Giving It All Away

August 2001 Challenge: Write a story in which Hercules and Iolaus encounter a situation where they find widows and orphans and discover that they were the cause of the loss of the husbands and fathers.

Author’s Note: I do not own the characters below. Just borrowed them for a little non-profit fun, and am returning them slightly used, but generally good as new. Comments and criticisms welcome.

“Well,” Iolaus commented cheerfully as he followed his partner out of the dark depths of Echidna and Typhon’s cave. “Not really my idea of a swinging party, but that was nice.”

Hercules nodded his agreement, knowing exactly what his partner was talking about. Even by his much more reserved standards, attending Obie’s first birthday party had made for a rather tame afternoon. But in some ways, that was good. For once, the warriors were able to relax for awhile, with no urgent threats to Greece calling them away from their lives.

“Hey, Herc,” the hunter began excitedly as an idea struck him. “Why don’t we stop at Plinth before we head to Mycenae?”

“Because its in the opposite direction?” the demigod reminded him.

“Oh, come on. Its just over the hill there. We could get some of that boar stew that you liked so much at the tavern. We hardly ever come this way, so why pass up this chance to visit with some old friends?”

“Visit with Breanna, you mean,” Hercules teased, knowing his partner’s mind all too well, and not bothering to point out that it was the hunter who had the fondness for the boar stew.

“Sure, my old friend Breanna,” Iolaus said innocently, but the demigod wasn’t about to let him get away with it.

“If she’s just a friend, then what was with that kiss you laid on her before we left last time?” he accused.

“That.... Well, that was just a friendly goodbye kiss,” the hunter decreed.

“Yeah, right,” Hercules muttered, rolling his eyes. “Let me give you a little friendly warning. Next time we say goodbye, you’d better not try to suck my tonsils out.”

“Very funny. What do you say, Herc? You know, we did promise the villagers that we’d come back. You don’t want them thinking that the heroic son of Zeus doesn’t keep his word, now do you?”

“No, we can’t have them thinking that.” The demigod slung a companionable arm around his friend’s shoulder. “Ok, let’s go to Plinth.”

“What is it?” Ares growled impudently. “I was right in the middle of something.”

“Whatever it is can wait.” The goddess’ tone was cold, as usual, but there was a gleam of satisfaction detectable in the depths of her iridescent eyes. “Hercules has gone to Plinth. Undoubtedly, he will feel obligated to help those pathetic mortals, and I need to you steer him in the right direction.”

A slow, predatory grin began to creep over the god of war’s face. It was almost too much to hope for that Hera’s long awaited plan to destroy Hercules was finally taking shape. He’d had his doubts about this scheme, largely because of its elaborateness and subtlety. Everything would have to fall into place perfectly, but if Hercules had indeed started down that road, his very nature would ensure that the end result would play out.

“Is Iolaus with him?”

“Of course.”

Ares’ grin got larger. Normally, he couldn’t stand his half-brother’s annoying pet mortal, but in this case, the runt would be needed for a bargaining chip.

“Don’t worry, Mother. I know what to do. And when this is over, we’ll both be rid of Hercules forever.”

Hercules and Iolaus exchanged a confused look. As they had entered the small village, their arrival had been greeted with gasps of astonishment, which had quickly turned into hushed whispers. Moving into the center of town, the partners were followed by stares and comments that were, though inaudible, obviously derisive. A group of women followed them, gesturing and chattering under their breath.

“Herc, what is going on?” the hunter whispered to his friend, unnerved by the hostility he could feel all around them.

Before the demigod could answer, an older woman appeared and approached the duo.

“You are not welcome here,” she told them angrily. “Either of you.”

“Why?” Hercules stammered. “What have we done to upset you? Where is Septus?”

“Dead,” the woman informed them. “Along with the rest of our men.”

“Dead?” Iolaus echoed. “How?”

“It’s your fault!” The outburst came from one of the younger women in the crowd. “This never would have happened if it hadn’t been for you, Hercules!”

“I don’t understand...” The demigod was aghast at the accusations.

“An emissary of Hera appeared to us right after you left last year,” the older woman, who was apparently in command, explained. “He told us Hera was angry with us for siding with you instead of her. Because we followed your encouragement and turned against her, we were to be punished. The very next day, all of the men in the village began falling ill with a mysterious fever. In a week’s time, none of them were left, not even the children and infants.”

“You can’t blame Hercules for that...” Iolaus protested, but he was interrupted.

“Hera didn’t stop there,” the woman continued with a bitter laugh. “To make things even worse, she placed some sort of barrier around Plinth. She decreed that none of us could leave and that no one would ever enter the town, except for the two that had caused this to happen. And now, here you are.”

“We didn’t know...” Hercules was in a state of shock. He was used to having the gods’ wrath targeted on him, and from time to time the occasional innocent person had gotten caught in the crossfire. But never had he even dreamed that a god could be so petty as to cause so many innocents so much suffering.

“How could you know?” the woman lashed out. “You saunter in and out, preaching your defiance of the gods and never stopping to think about the consequences for those that can’t fight back. Those that aren’t under Zeus’ protection. We believed you, and look what happened to us.”

“I’m going to fix this,” the demigod vowed.

“Don’t do us any favors,” the woman sneered over her shoulder. “We don’t want your kind of help.”

Following her lead, the women slowly began to move away, dispersing through the street to return to the tasks they’d been busy with before the commotion had started. Iolaus saw a familiar face glancing back at him through the crowd, and he took an eager step forward.

“Breanna!”

The girl hesitated briefly, but turned her back on the hunter and began quickly walking away.

“What have I done?” Hercules whispered to himself, but his friend heard.

“Herc, you didn’t do anything. Hera is responsible for this.”

“But I triggered it,” the demigod insisted. “I urged these people to resist her, and look at what she did to them.”

“Whatever you said to them, they acted on it of their own free will,” Iolaus tried to reassure his friend. “You didn’t force them to go against Hera, and they are wrong for laying the blame with you.”

Hercules ran a hand through his hair and sighed. His partner’s words were not making him feel better. There was no way of getting around the fact that if they had never come to Plinth, the village wouldn’t have suffered Hera’s curse. The demigod knew that the queen of the gods wasn’t really that upset with the town. She had just done this to punish him, knowing the effect all of this innocent suffering would have on him. Which only served to enforce his point. If it wasn’t for his constant war with Hera, then Plinth wouldn’t have been inflicted with this fate.

“I’m going to make this right,” the demigod declared, sighing again.

“What do you want to do?” Breanna’s snub had been like a knife in the heart for Iolaus, but he pushed those feelings away and forced himself to concentrate on the task at hand.

“Let’s go back to Arcadia,” Hercules said. “Zeus has a temple there, and if anyone knows how to reverse this, it’s him.”

“What if he won’t answer you?” The hunter was deservedly skeptic, as the king of the gods was hardly a reliable presence.

“Oh, he’ll answer.” There was steel in the demigod’s voice. He was not about to accept the brush off for this one. “And this time, that miserable bitch is going to get what she deserves.”

The partners set off, but had not gone far before Iolaus stopped in his tracks and called out his friend’s name. Hercules, who had been lost in thought and hadn’t seen him stop, had kept walking, but turned as he heard the hunter’s shout. Iolaus was standing in the road, looking around him with an expression of grave concern.

“What is it?” Hercules asked him, but it seemed as if his friend hadn’t heard him. The hunter called out the demigod’s name again, reaching in front of him tentatively.

“Iolaus, are you alright?” Hercules went back to his partner, and as he stepped beside him Iolaus visibly jumped.

“What happened?” the hunter demanded. “Where were you?”

“What do you mean?” the demigod asked in confusion. “I was right there in front of you on the road.”

“You disappeared,” Iolaus said slowly. “One moment you were there, and the next...”

“Let’s try this again,” Hercules suggested, a terrible feeling coming over him. “Start walking, and keep going even if I disappear.”

The hunter looked at his friend strangely, but agreed. They began walking once more, but Hercules was soon ahead of his partner. Looking back, he saw Iolaus was still walking, but he didn’t appear to be moving. Shaking his head, the demigod returned to his friend’s side.

“Gods, that’s creepy,” Iolaus declared. “Where do you go when that happens?”

“Through the barrier,” Hercules reasoned. “Hera’s curse is stopping you from leaving Plinth. For some reason, you were allowed in, but you can’t go any further than this spot.”

“That’s ridiculous,” the hunter scoffed. “I’m walking down the road. You’re the one that keeps disappearing.”

“You only think you’re going down the road,” Hercules told him. “But when I pass through, I can see you behind me. You’re walking, but not getting anywhere.”

Iolaus wanted to argue that bit of illogic, but he knew that his partner wouldn’t joke about something like that.

“I guess since you’re half god, you can go through.”

“Looks that way,” the demigod sighed. “And it also looks like I’m on my own to find Zeus. You going to be ok here until I get back?”

“Sure,” the hunter answered, trying to keep the frustration from his voice. “It’s been a dream of mine to have a whole village of women all to myself. Too bad they all hate me.”

Hercules grinned and they exchanged a warrior’s shake. The demigod resumed the journey alone, and he immediately disappeared from the hunter’s sight. Iolaus hated being left behind, but there was nothing he could do but sit and wait, and hope that his friend could find some way of undoing the damage Hera had done to this poor village. In both their names.

Hercules paced restlessly around his father’s temple. He had arrived and had about shouted himself hoarse, calling for the king of the gods to appear, with no answer. But he resolved that he wasn’t going to leave until Zeus faced him.

“Zeus is busy.” The voice startled the demigod, and he whirled around to see Hermes behind him.

“Busy with who?” Hercules asked, voice dripping with contempt.

“He knows what you want though,” the messenger told him. “So he sent me to let you know that nothing can be done. There isn’t a way to overturn Hera’s curse on Plinth.”

“There has to be,” the demigod insisted.

“Sorry,” Hermes shrugged. “But only Hera can undo what she’s done.”

Iolaus squinted as he looked up at the sky to judge the position of the sun., the day appearing to have grown hazy. The hunter sighed, absently trying to massage away the ache that had developed in his temples. He hated waiting, but he didn’t have a choice. Even though the late afternoon sun still shone down on the world, a chill seemed to have developed in the air. Shivering, Iolaus pulled himself up, somewhat wearily, and began to gather kindling for a fire.

Hercules was in a very dark mood as he left his father’s temple. He was angry that Zeus hadn’t come to face him, and he was upset that he didn’t get the answers he was seeking. But his resolve was still strong. If the king of the gods truly didn’t know any way to help Plinth, then he would just have to find one himself.

“Believe me, Ares,” the demigod growled as his half brother materialized before him. “You don’t want to start this with me today.”

“Start what?” the god of war scoffed with an injured air. “I’m just here to help you.”

“That will be the day.”

“Zeus lied to you,” Ares called out, stopping Hercules in his tracks. “There is a way to reverse Hera’s curse. I assume you are familiar with the golden spring that flows beneath the earth? It surfaces in a cave in Mount Taygetus near Plinth. There’s a round stone at the bottom of the well in the center of the village that bears the mark of Hera. All you have to do is retrieve it and throw it into the spring. The water will wash Hera’s curse from the town. Can’t bring back all those men that died, but at least people will be able to come and go again.”

“What’s the catch?” Hercules asked suspiciously.

“Ah, yes. There always is one, isn’t there?” A smile came over the dark god’s face. “The catch is that no god can enter the cave. If you passed through the opening, you would lose your immortal blood. Full mortals can enter with no problem, but I don’t think you want to send one, as they would undoubtedly fall victim to all the traps inside.”

“The spring comes to the surface in other places,” the demigod said defiantly. “In fact, there was one in Bacchus’ cave near the Academy.”

“Well then, I guess you have it all figured out.” The grin on Ares’ face grew broader. “But I doubt you’d make it there in time to save your little friend.”

“What are you talking about?” Hercules’ voice was cold and the look on his face was deadly serious.

“Hera’s curse,” the god told him smugly. “Poor Iolaus, being a mortal and a man, has fallen victim to it. Even as we speak, he is ravaged by fever, counting the hours he has left to live. The only thing that can save him is you. So, how about it, Hercules? You gave up your strength once for Serena. Would you do it again for your partner?”

“Gladly.” The demigod locked eyes with his half brother for a moment before turning and heading in the direction of Plinth at a dead run. Ares’ laughter echoed behind him, and he instinctively knew that the god of war was telling the truth. A cold fist of fear clenched around his heart, his worry for his friend spurring him to go faster. He could only hope that he wouldn’t be too late. Iolaus’ life depended on it.

“It’s done,” Ares reported triumphantly to his mother. “Once Hercules returns to Plinth and sees that his little pal is dying, nothing will keep him from entering that cave.”

“And once he does,” Hera gloated, a smug smile of satisfaction twitching about her lips. “His godhood will be lost forever. If the trials of the cave don’t finish him off, then I’m sure we can arrange a little surprise for him that will do the trick.”

Mother and son shared an evil laugh, neither noticing the solemn figure that was eavesdropping on their plans. Zeus stroked his beard thoughtfully, trying to think of a way to help his son without breaking the very rules that he, himself, had initiated. Finally, he decided on a course of action. The king of the gods doubted that his son would appreciate it much, but at least he would stand a chance of staying alive, regardless of what Ares and Hera threw at him.

Hercules screeched to a halt as he passed the barrier of Plinth where he’d left Iolaus. He found evidence of a recent campfire, but no hunter nearby. Rationalizing that his friend must have headed back toward the village, the demigod began loping down the road, his eyes peeled for any signs of his partner. He hadn’t gone far when he spied a familiar figure, lying as still as death by the side of the road.

“Iolaus?” he whispered, heart pounding as he carefully rolled his friend over onto his back. A sense of relief washed over him as he ascertained that the hunter was still alive. But that relief immediately turned to fear as felt the fiery heat radiating from his partner. Hercules quickly gathered the limp form in his arms and sped toward the village, not having any time to lose if he was going to save his best friend.

The hostile stares that had greeted his initial arrival were still present as he re-entered the village, but this time they were punctuated with alternating looks of curiosity, and in some cases, vindication, at the sight of the hunter in his arms. One look of sympathy came his way as Hercules stood before the crowd of women, begging for someone to help him. A bit hesitantly, Breanna stepped out of the crowd.

“Bring him to my house, Hercules,” she said softly, turning to lead the way, ignoring the traitorous looks her neighbors were giving her. With a grateful nod, the demigod followed her, cradling his precious bundle protectively to his chest.

“I know of a way to lift the curse,” he told her as he followed her inside her home. “I can remove the barrier from Plinth, but I need to be sure that Iolaus will be all right while I’m gone.”

“Do what you need to do,” the girl told him, showing him where he could lay the hunter down. “I’ll take care of Iolaus. He’ll be safe with me, I promise.”

“There’s no time to explain all this,” Hercules said harriedly. “I need to go and get something, but I’ll stop back here before I leave.”

Not waiting for Breanna’s reply, if she had one, the demigod rushed out of the house and back to the center of the village. Taking a deep breath, realizing that he probably shouldn’t stop and think about what he was doing, Hercules grabbed the rope that was fastened to the windlass and leapt into the well. It was dark and the water was freezing, but the demigod groped around persistently until his hand closed around a smooth, hard, round object. Instinctively, he knew it was the item he sought. Pulling himself up, hand over hand, he managed to climb out of the well, popping over the edge of the stone wall to be greeted by many strange looks from women who assumed he had lost his mind. In the fading light of the sun, Hercules examined the stone, and saw that it indeed bore the evil mark of his cruel stepmother.

As he returned to Breanna’s home, she met him at the door.

“He’s awake,” the girl told him. “And he’s been asking for you.”

Pausing only to quickly towel off his dripping hair and clothing, Hercules went to his friend. He sat down on the bed next to him, seeing a faint grin creep over the hunter’s face as he saw the demigod.

“Hey,” he whispered.

“Hey yourself.” Hercules spied a bowl of water on the bedside table and reached for it, wringing the excess liquid out of the cloth inside and using it to wipe the sweat from his friend’s fevered brow. “I have to go, Iolaus. I found a way to reverse this curse, but I have to leave now. You’re going to be all right, buddy. Just hang on for me, ok?”

“You want your friendly goodbye kiss now?” Iolaus joked weakly.

“This isn’t goodbye,” Hercules insisted vehemently, brushing back the damp curls from his partner’s flushed face. “It’s just... See you later. Got it?”

If he hadn’t been so ill, Iolaus would have seen the troubled look in the depths of his friend’s blue eyes. He would have seen that something was wrong, and would have known that this cure was going to come at a high price. But, the fever raging through him was making everything fuzzy. All he knew for sure was that he was in trouble, and Hercules was going to fix it, like he always did.

“See you later,” the hunter murmured, reaching out a trembling hand to his friend. The demigod took his partner’s hand, clasping it warmly between his large palms. “Be careful, Herc.”

“Don’t worry about a thing. You’re going to be fine,” Hercules promised. “Just hold on, Iolaus. You just fight to hold on, ok? It will be over soon, and everything will be all right.”

The hunter nodded slightly, eyelids drooping. Giving the hand in his a final squeeze, Hercules reluctantly let his partner go and stood up, moving to where Breanna was watching from the doorway.

“Take care of him,” he whispered helplessly to the girl. “Breanna, please take care of him.”

“I will,” she assured him. “Hercules, you have a little time, but not much. Hurry, all right?”

The demigod nodded, turning to take one last look at his stricken friend before striding out of the house into the darkening night. It was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do, abandoning his friend when the hunter needed him the most. But he had to, in order to save his life. And if it cost him his own in the process, then so be it.

Hercules traveled hard through the night, worry for Iolaus giving him speed he didn’t know he possessed. As the morning sun dawned, it found him staring into the black, gaping depths of the cave in the base of Mount Taygetus, gathering his courage to enter.

“I don’t suppose I can talk you out of this?”

The demigod turned to face his father, setting his shoulders in a determined stance.

“You can, by telling me that you’ve put a stop to Hera’s curse.”

“Son,” Zeus said patiently. “You know that I can’t interfere with another god. It’s against the rules for me to meddle with the happenings that Hera has caused in Plinth, whether I agree with them or not.”

“Then we don’t have anything else to talk about,” Hercules stated defiantly.

“You know you’ll be giving up your strength,” the king of the gods cautioned.

“I’ve been informed,” the demigod said sarcastically. “But if that’s what it takes to save Iolaus, then it’s a small price to pay.”

“Then do what you will,” Zeus sighed, knowing that his headstrong son would do just that. “But don’t surrender your godly blood to the enchantments of this cave. It’s a painful process, and it will impede your task. Let me take it from you, instead.”

Hercules stared at his father with outright mistrust and suspicion.

“All right,” he said finally. “Since I’m going to give it up regardless, go ahead and take it.”

With a look of sadness in his eyes, Zeus stepped forward and placed his hands on his son. Closing his eyes, he began drawing the semi-divinity out of his favorite child. Hercules gasped at the sensations, falling to his knees as he felt his heritage being ripped from him. The torment was excruciating, both physically and mentally, as a large portion of his identity was severed from his being. But fortunately, it only lasted a moment, and Zeus stepped back, looking at the panting mortal at his feet.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” the god asked him. “I can give you back your strength. It isn’t too late to change your mind, but once you enter that cave, your divinity is lost forever.”

Hercules struggled to his feet, a bit disheartened at the feeling of weakness that had replaced his usual feelings of strength and power. But he refused to even answer his father. Taking a deep breath, he turned his back on the king of the gods and entered the cave.

Zeus watched his son disappear into the darkness. He could only hope that he could survive the perils of the cave without his godly strength. But the old god knew that if he did, it would only be the first battle. Hercules’ war with mortality was far from won.

True to her word, Breanna watched over the ill man in her care devotedly. She made soothing teas for him and bathed him with cold water, even though she knew her attempts at fighting the fever were futile. She’d watched, helpless, as the men in her village all died from the illness, including her own father. There was nothing she could do for any of them, and there was nothing she could do now, apart from trying to make the hunter comfortable. Hercules was the only one who could stop the death encroaching upon Iolaus, and the girl could only pray that he’d be able to hold on long enough to see the curse lifted.

“I’m sorry, Breanna.”

“For what?” she asked, looking down into the hunter’s glazed eyes.

“For all this trouble we caused,” he began. “Hera did this to you because of us. It’s my fault that you’re an orphan.”

“I think I’m too old to technically be considered an orphan,” Breanna remarked with a faint smile. “And anyway, this isn’t your fault. You and Hercules tried to help us. You couldn’t have known what Hera would do.”

“Everyone else is blaming us,” Iolaus said wearily, closing his eyes.

“They’re wrong,” she stated with conviction. “I was wrong.”

Watching the hunter lose the battle to stay awake, Breanna felt guilty that she had listened to the other women in the village. Losing all the men that they loved in such a heartless manner had deeply affected all of them, and had made most of them bitter. Having learned their lesson the first time, they didn’t dare blame the one responsible. So Hercules and Iolaus became the scapegoats. But Breanna well remembered how the two heroes had risked their lives for Plinth, asking nothing in return. They were not to blame, and anything that she could now do for Iolaus, she did gladly to try and make it up to him.

“I’m the one who’s sorry, Iolaus,” she whispered to the unconscious man. “I’m sorry for tuning on you when all you ever did was try and help.” Tears stung her eyes as she bit back the prayers forming at her lips, convinced that there were no gods that would care enough to answer them. She had put her faith in Hercules once, and it was now time to do so again. To Hades with the consequences.

Hercules stumbled out of the cave in a daze, collapsing in a heap into the cool grass. He’d been through enough booby-trapped caves, castles, tunnels, and fortresses in his life to know how to avoid many of the pitfalls that had been waiting for him. The unavoidable ones had been the standard walls closing in, hidden arrows launching, roof collapsing, and bottomless holes in the floor. However, without the godly strength that was natural and instinctual to him, passing through the cave had not been easy, to say the least. With every step, he’d had to remind himself that he was no longer able to handle these situations in the manner to which he was accustomed. But he’d made it. Bruised, battered, and thoroughly exhausted, but he’d done it.

He caught his breath and rested for awhile, listening to the birds singing the praises of the early morning. Being mortal was coming back to him now. The sharpness of hunger and thirst, the shock of the temperatures against his skin, and the nagging pain of every little bump and cut. As a demigod, he’d felt those things, but to a less severe degree. Hercules admitted to himself that he hadn’t missed them. But, he had done it to save Iolaus, and though he was tired and longing to curl up and sleep, he picked himself up and headed to Plinth. Mortality was more than worth it as long as he wasn’t too late to spare his best friend.

As Hercules walked, he was acutely aware of his muscles and joints, feeling the exertion like he’d never had when he was half god. It wasn’t unpleasant, just strange, and was going to take some getting used to. What bothered him more was the feeling of weakness he had. He tried to argue with himself, saying that even without his divine blood, he was still a healthy, strong mortal, and not weak by any means. But that extra boost of power was gone, and even though he’d cursed his heritage many times, he missed it now. Putting those feelings out of his mind, he began to walk faster. It had taken him longer than he’d expected to get through the cave, and his concern was starting to mount that he may not have been in time. He just didn’t know what he’d do if he lost Iolaus. That possibility was almost unthinkable.

Entering the village, Hercules was a little surprised to find it so deserted. He spotted one or two women milling about, but the streets were largely empty and quiet. Not knowing what to think, he headed directly for Breanna’s house, where he had left his partner. As he approached, Hercules heard hammering and his heart leapt. Somehow, it knew it was Iolaus. This feeling was confirmed as he walked up to the house and saw his friend up on the roof, intently patching away.

“You must be feeling better,” he called out. Hercules had been going for casual wryness, but the joy he felt at seeing Iolaus alive shone through his voice.

“Herc!” The hunter immediately scrambled down the ladder at the side of the house and rushed to greet his friend. “How are you? Are you ok?”

“I should be asking you that question,” Hercules told him. But he didn’t need ask. His partner looked great. They grinned at each other and shared a quick hug.

“You did it, Herc,” Iolaus beamed. “The barrier’s gone from around the village. A lot of the women left this morning. Some went to visit their families. Others just left. Too many bad memories, I guess. But they were very grateful to you, and asked me to thank you for lifting the curse.”

“About that,” Hercules sighed. “There’s something I have to tell you. In order to revoke the curse, I had to give up my strength.”

“I know,” the hunter said quietly.

“You do?” Hercules wrinkled his brow at his partner. “How?”

“Because.” Iolaus turned his blue eyes onto his friend, meeting him with a steady gaze. “Zeus told me that he had to take it from you. Just before he gave it to me.”

Hercules stood , resting his back against a tree, as he watched the shadows lengthening. Normally, the quiet of the forest and the gentle gurgling of a stream always helped to relax him. But now he was too full of questions, and too full of conflicting emotions to be comforted by simple pleasures. Only the man approaching him from behind could do that.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Iolaus answered, a bit uneasily. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah, fine.”

The hunter stood silently, studying the profile of his friend.

“Are you mad at me, Herc?”

“No,” Hercules sighed, turning to face him. “I’m not mad. I just don’t understand.”

“Look, I didn’t ask for this,” Iolaus quickly assured him. “But Zeus came to me and explained what you were doing. He said he was worried for you, since last time you gave up your strength you almost died. He said that he knew that Ares or Hera would be coming after you and he asked me if I would look out for you. Well, I said yes, and the next thing I knew, he had zapped me.”

“Are you sure that he gave you my strength?”

Iolaus raised his eyebrows at his partner. Turning around, he bent down and wrapped his arms around a huge rock. With a grunt, he heaved the stone effortlessly over his head.

“Answer your question?” he asked, throwing the stone off to the side and dusting off his hands.

“Meddling old goat,” Hercules grumbled. “He thinks because he has power he can interfere in people’s lives however he sees fit. Obviously, he doesn’t believe in free will and giving people the right to chose for themselves. He also apparently has no faith in me whatsoever.”

“Maybe he was just concerned for you,” Iolaus suggested.

“What do you know about it?” Hercules snapped. “You’ve had my strength for two days and now you think you know everything about my life?”

“Herc, take it easy.” The surprise was evident in the hunter’s voice.

“I’m sorry, Iolaus.” Hercules was instantly contrite. “This whole thing’s got my head turned around, and it’s just going to take a little getting used to.”

“Breanna’s invited us to stay for as long as we want,” Iolaus told him. “I think maybe it would be a good idea to spend a few days here. Give us both a chance to adjust to this.”

“No.” The former demigod shook his head. “We’re expected in Mycenae. I’d rather just get back on the road and try to go on with our lives.”

“Ok,” the hunter agreed. “We can leave for Mycenae in the morning. But why don’t you come back to the village with me? Breanna made dinner.”

Hercules nodded his agreement and followed his friend out of the woods.

“Well,” Iolaus drawled. “That sure didn’t take Ares long.”

The two warriors stared down the bunch of motley mercenaries that had appeared in the road before them.

“How do you know Hera didn’t send them?” Hercules asked innocently.

“Too ugly,” the hunter announced loudly. “Hera likes her boys pretty. But when you see a face that not even a mother could love, you know it’s a genuine Ares patsy.”

As intended, Iolaus’ words incensed the mob. They charged, and the partners flashed each other a quick grin before taking up a back to back stance. As the first man approached Iolaus, the hunter sparred with him briefly before sending his sword clattering across the ground. Iolaus balled his fist and drew back, but as he connected with the man’s jaw he was amazed to see the thug go sailing through the air, landing heavily across a tree branch.

“Cool,” he breathed, having forgotten for a moment that he currently had the strength of the gods. “Guess I better learn to pull my punches.”

By the end of the fight, he had gotten the hang of it, using enough force to knock them senseless, but not so much as to shatter skulls. When the last mercenary was vanquished, the hunter turned to Hercules, ready to celebrate their victory. But he was surprised to see his friend glaring at him.

“What?”

“Look,” Hercules said irritably. “I may not have my strength, but I’m not helpless and I don’t appreciate you treating me like I am.”

“I don’t understand,” Iolaus protested. “What did I do?”

“Showing off your strength, shielding me, pulling that guy off of me.”

“Herc, he was beating on you. I was just trying to help.”

“Well, I don’t need your help. I can take care of myself, with or without the strength of the gods.”

“All right, just calm down.”

“And stop telling me to calm down,” Hercules exploded angrily. “You know, you get a new perk and everything’s great for you. Well, it’s not that easy for me, so I’m sorry if I can’t sit back and take it all calmly.”

“Hercules, what is wrong with you?” Iolaus demanded, getting impatient. “I know that this is going to take getting used to, for both of us. But nothing’s changed, really. I’m still me, and you’re still you.”

“How can you say that?” Hercules asked. “Nothing is the same. My whole identity is gone, don’t you understand? I was Hercules, son of Zeus, the hero of Greece with the strength of the gods. I didn’t always like it, but that’s who I was. Now all that’s been taken away from me and given to you, and where does that leave me? Who am I now?”

“So,” Iolaus stated quietly. “Are you upset that you’ve lost your strength, or are you really upset that its been given to me?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Hercules muttered.

“That’s it, isn’t it? You resent me. You gave up everything to save me, and now you can’t stand seeing me with what you’ve lost. You hate me for it. Where in Tartarus are you going?”

“Into the woods,” Hercules told him. “We can continue this eloquent discussion on the way to Mycenae, but I have to piss first. If that’s all right with you.” The demigod was boiling with anger, and he wanted a few moments to get himself under control, before he said anything that he would later regret.

Iolaus sat down by the edge of the road as his partner stomped off into the forest. He was shaking, and trying to catch his breath through the tightness in his chest. Hercules had avoided his question, thereby confirming it in the hunter’s mind. His best friend hated him. Regretted the fact that he had given up so much to save him. Resented him for having the power that he no longer possessed himself. Without a doubt, Iolaus would have preferred death to this.

A sudden, panicked shout drew him out of his thoughts. Immediately, the hunter was on his feet, tearing through the woods after his partner. He found Hercules backed up against a tree, trying to fend off a wicked looking monster. The creature was thick-bodied with wrinkled gray skin and the standard sharp claws and lethal fangs. Hercules was just barely keeping it at bay, and as the jaws snapped an inch from his face, Iolaus went into action. Grabbing the beast by it’s long tail, he dug his heels into the ground and pulled.

The creature slid back enough to allow Hercules the chance to dart out of reach. It hissed, prepared to follow before realizing that it first would have to deal with the annoyance behind it. A quick sweep of the heavy tail sent Iolaus flying through the air to land against a solid tree trunk with an “oof”. He sat up, trying to shake the cobwebs from his head. While he had definitely felt the impact, the hunter realized that his new godly strength had shielded him from injury. He recovered from the shock almost instantly and rushed to Hercules’ side. They stood, tensed and poised, as the monster eyed them critically.

“Now, THAT’s Hera,” Iolaus said confidently.

“Yeah,” Hercules agreed. “She likes her boys pretty, but her monsters downright repulsive.”

“What do you expect?” the hunter asked, getting a firmer grip on his sword. “She molds them in her own image.”

With a snarl, the monster charged them. The partners each dove out of the way, the flash of Iolaus’ sword catching the glinting sunlight as he launched himself to safety. Hercules guessed that his friend had hit his mark as he heard a load roar rattling out of the beast’s massive chest. A quick glance back confirmed his assumptions as he saw blood leaking from a gash in the creature’s side.

“I think I made him mad,” Iolaus shouted, running for cover behind an overturned log.

The beast seemed to concur, as it bore down on the hunter with a newfound fury. Iolaus turned to meet it, getting in another gash with his sword before a heavy paw sent the weapon skidding out of sight. As the monster lunged, the hunter caught each of the front paws in his hands and pushed back with all of his might, trying to keep the snapping jaws away from him. Hercules came running to help, launching himself through the air and landing on the monster’s back. He had hoped that his weight would be enough to throw the creature off-balance, but it was too powerful. It backed off of Iolaus for a moment and bucked once, sending Hercules tumbling to the ground.

They both ran in opposite directions. Iolaus had caught sight of his sword lying a few feet away, and dashed toward it. Hercules had just been concentrating on getting out of range, but he was not quick enough. The thick tail lashed out, catching him across his legs. As he fell, he felt his ankle wrench under him and searing pain shot up his right leg. Hercules tried to struggle to his feet, but razor sharp teeth sunk deep into his shoulder. He cried out, slamming his fist against the monster’s head, but his blows were ineffectual.

Suddenly the creature released him, raising up with a bellow. Hercules scooted along the ground, pushing himself away from the beast, but its attentions had been diverted. Iolaus leapt from behind its form, his sword wet with blood. With a roar that must have shaken the very ground in Hades, the monster attacked. The hunter stood calmly, letting it come. A split second before he was mowed down, Iolaus dropped to one knee, ducking the lethal claws slashing toward him, and drove his sword with one powerful stroke deeply into the beast’s chest. It fell over, twitched a few times, and was forever stilled.

“Nice work,” Hercules panted, pulling himself to a sitting position.

“Thanks,” Iolaus grinned. He skirted the fallen creature and knelt by his partner’s side. “Are you all right?”

“I think so,” he replied, even though he didn’t feel all right.

“You’re bleeding pretty good,” the hunter noticed. “Take your shirt off and let me look at that.”

Hercules did as he was told, wincing a little at the pain the small movement caused. Iolaus pulled a few supplies out of his bag, and with the skill born of years of practice, he quickly cleaned the wounds.

“The punctures must be deep,” he remarked to his friend. “I had a hard time slowing the bleeding, but I think its pretty much stopped now. I’m going to go ahead and bandage it and then we can get out of here. This thing reeks like Hera.”

He deftly wound a strip of clean cloth around Hercules’ shoulder, tying it off neatly. Iolaus extended his hand, helping his partner to his feet. Hercules rose, only to sink back down to the ground with a grimace of pain as he tried to take a step.

“What’s wrong?” Iolaus asked in concern.

“My ankle,” Hercules told him through gritted teeth, clutching his leg in his hands. “I twisted it when I fell.”

“Let me look.”

Iolaus knelt and began unlacing his friend’s boot.

“Don’t take it off,” Hercules protested. “I might not be able to get it back on.”

“But if its broken, it needs to be set,” the hunter reasoned. “It’s ok, Herc.”

He finished undoing the laces, sliding the boot from his partner’s foot as carefully as he could. Gently, his slender fingers probed the ankle, which was already swelling.

“I don’t think its broken,” he announced finally “But it looks like a pretty nasty sprain. And you were right. We aren’t gong to get this boot back on.” The hunter smile sympathetically at his friend, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Why don’t we go back to Plinth? It’s not very far, and we can stay with Breanna until you’re up to traveling.”

“All right,” Hercules agreed with a heavy sigh.

“Just sit here a minute,” Iolaus said. “I’ll go find something you can use for a crutch to lean on.” He jumped up and scampered off through the woods, looking for a suitable aid for his partner.

Hercules sighed again and pulled his shirt back on. The pain was acute and very real in his mortal form, but that wasn’t what was bothering him. Numbness was shooting down his arm into his hand, and the small wounds in his shoulder were burning, like each tooth mark was filled with a tiny flame of fire. It wasn’t the ache of a normal wound, but rather the fiery pain of something much more insidious. Hercules was afraid, but when Iolaus returned with a stout stick, he let himself be helped up and steadied and they began their journey without a word.

As they walked, Iolaus kept a close eye on his partner. Hercules hobbled along doggedly, supporting himself with the walking stick as he took one step after another. But he was pale and sweating, and they had not gone far before his steps began to falter. The hunter figured that his friend was in more pain than he was letting on.

“Hey, Herc,” he began casually. “Why don’t we head toward that stream over there and take a breather? My water skin is almost empty, and my stomach definitely IS empty.”

Hercules saw through his friend, but he couldn’t deny that he needed a break. With a nod of consent, he veered off the road behind the hunter and followed him over to the gurgling stream.

“Guess we aren’t going to find any dinner here,” Iolaus remarked, looking into the shallow water. “Unless you’re in the mood for minnows.”

Hercules didn’t answer, but plopped himself down on the bank with a groan. Reaching down, he undid the tight bandage that his partner had wrapped around his ankle and plunged his foot into the icy stream. The chill of the water was painful at first, but then it numbed him and eased the persistent throbbing. Iolaus held out his hand, and Hercules understandingly tossed his water skin to his friend. Kneeling on the bank, the hunter leaned over the water to fill it before handing it back.

Iolaus’s eyes narrowed as Hercules reached out with his right hand and took the water skin. The hunter noticed it had been shaking, and as his partner took a long drink of the cold water, Iolaus’ gaze darted to his left arm, hanging limply by his side, before focusing back on his face. Hercules looked sick, and it wasn’t a twisted-ankle-shoulder-wound-pain look.

“Is there something you want to tell me?” he asked quietly.

“What do you mean?”

Iolaus reached out and slid the shirt away from his friend’s shoulder. The bandages around the wounds were wet with blood, and as he began to unwrap them, the hunter felt the heat radiating from his partner’s skin.

“Were you just planning on waiting until you collapsed from fever before you bothered to tell me about that thing we fought having a poisoned bite?”

“There’s nothing you can do,” Hercules muttered, staring at the ground. “I didn’t want to worry you, and besides, I knew you’d just try and stop me from traveling back to Plinth.”

“Of course I would have,” Iolaus said in exasperation, pressing a clean cloth against the seeping wounds. “Herc, until we know how bad this is, you shouldn’t be moved. Traveling just might make it that much worse.”

“But that’s why we need to get back to Plinth,” Hercules argued. “If its as bad as I fear, then I’m going to die out here. We need to get back to a place where we can find some help.”

“I really don’t think its a good idea,” the hunter protested.

“Well, its my life on the line, so its my decision. And I say we get back to the road.” Hercules tried to pull himself up, but Iolaus restrained him with a firm hand on his good shoulder.

“All right,” he sighed in resignation. “We’ll go. But you are not going anywhere until I get that bleeding stopped. So just sit here and rest for a minute while I see if I can find any herbs.”

Luckily, he was able to find some yarrow growing nearby, which Cheiron had always taught them was invaluable in the battlefield. Iolaus returned to his partner, pressing the fern-like leaves against the wounds which would not clot, thanks to the venom in the dead monster’s bite. Finally, the bleeding slowed enough to satisfy him, and against his better judgment, he helped his friend up, supporting him as they began their journey once more.

“What happened?” Breanna cried, opening her door to find an unconscious Hercules draped over the shoulder of Iolaus.

“Long story,” the hunter told her, moving through the doorway as she stepped back to admit them. He approached the bed where he, himself, had lain ill not long before and carefully deposited his partner. Iolaus stretched his back briefly and rolled his shoulders a few times to try and work out the cramps. Even with the aid of godly strength on his side, Hercules was still a heavy load to carry.

“Did the gods do this?” Breanna asked, bringing a pitcher of water.

“It was one of their toys,” Iolaus said with contempt. “They weren’t satisfied with taking his godhood away from him. They wanted to see him suffer.”

“He’ll be all right though, won’t he?”

“Breanna, could you make him some tea? He’s still losing blood, and he needs fluids to replace it.”

“Of course.” The girl looked sadly at the two warriors for a moment, aware that the hunter had avoided her question, and understanding why he had done so. He didn’t want to face the likely possibility that things wouldn’t turn out all right. She touched him reassuringly on the shoulder, then went out to bring in some wood.

Iolaus sat down on the bed next to his partner, pouring some of the water from the pitcher into a small bowl. He dipped a cloth into the water and used it to bathe his friend’s face, the coolness of it seeming a weak force against the heat pouring out of his skin. But after a minute, Hercules groaned and his eyelids fluttered open as he regain consciousness.

“Iolaus?” he murmured, disoriented eyes darting around the room. “Where are we?”

“In Plinth,” the hunter told him. “At Breanna’s.”

“How did we get here? Last thing I remember....”

“Is falling on your face in the road?” Iolaus asked him with a teasing grin. “You passed out a few miles from here, and I carried you the rest of the way. Hercules, you promised me that you would tell me before you reached the point of collapse!”

“You carried me?” Hercules asked disbelievingly, ignoring the accusation.

“Yep. Isn’t that a switch? Here...”

Iolaus slipped his hand behind his friend’s head, raising him up while he put a mug of water to his lips. Hercules drank thirstily, the cool water sliding down his throat a momentarily relief from the incessant heat of fever burning him from the inside. But as the hunter eased him back down against the pillow, Hercules felt the fever flare again, strong and relentless, and he knew he was dying.

“Iolaus, I have to tell you something.”

The hunter nodded at his partner, encouraging him to continue, as he dipped the cloth back into the bowl of water and wrung it out.

“Before this happened, what I said to you on the road... I didn’t mean it.”

“We don’t have to do this now,” Iolaus told him, bathing his flushed face with the cool water.

“Yes, we do,” Hercules insisted. “I was upset, and I was angry at the gods, especially my father. I took it out on you, Iolaus, and I’m sorry. I was never mad at you, or resentful of you for having my strength. I don’t regret giving it up for you, and I’d do it again in a heartbeat. I’d give up my life for you.”

“I know, Herc,” the hunter whispered, looking away as his eyes filled with tears. Hercules reached up a shaking hand, and Iolaus caught it, squeezing it tightly “I know.”

“How’s he doing?”

Iolaus looked up as Breanna entered the room, carrying a mug of warm broth.

“He’s slipping away from me,” the hunter said woodenly, looking back down at his stricken partner. “This fever’s killing him, and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

Breanna sat the mug down on the table near the bed and slipped her arms around Iolaus, but he refused to let himself be comforted.

“Is this what it’s like to be Hercules?” he asked in a strained whisper. “Having the strength of the gods but feeling so completely helpless? All this power, and it’s useless. I can’t do anything to help him. Is this what he goes through, every time something happens to me?”

“Sometimes there’s nothing you can do,” Breanna told him. “Sometimes you just have to step back and leave it up to the fates.”

“No,” the hunter protested, jumping up to pace angrily around the small room. “I should have been able to prevent this. I have the strength of the gods! I should have been able to protect him. I promised Zeus I would, and then the first obstacle that comes our way, I let Hercules get hurt. I should have done something to save him!”

“Not your fault.”

Iolaus jumped slightly at the soft voice, not having realized his partner had awakened. Hercules had been floating in and out of delirium for the past few hours, but now the blue eyes that met the hunter’s were clear, if a bit unfocused.

“Ok, buddy,” Iolaus said softly, resuming his place on the edge of his friend’s bed. “Everything’s all right.”

“Listen to me,” Hercules commanded, trying to make his weak whisper sound forceful. “You can’t blame yourself for what happened to me, Iolaus. We both fought that monster and we both knew the risk we were taking. You did everything you could, and that creature is dead now. It can’t hurt anyone ever again, and if my life was the price to pay for that, then so be it. You know you’d feel the same.”

“That’s not much of a comfort,” the hunter murmured, his voice tight with sorrow.

Breanna suddenly felt like an intruder. Instinctively, she knew that Hercules did not have much time left so she rose and gracefully let herself out of the room, leaving the two warriors alone. There would be no fanfare to mark the passing of Greece’s greatest hero, but Breanna knew this was how Hercules preferred it. Living out his last moments quietly, in the company of his best friend, the man that was brother of his heart.

“Promise me something,” Hercules gasped. Heat was pouring out of him, and he was starting to have trouble catching his breath, feeling like he was suffocating.

“Anything,” the hunter vowed. Iolaus took his partner’s hand in his own once more, grateful for the small blessing that his friend did not seem to be in an intolerable amount of pain.

“Promise that you’ll keep going,” Hercules pleaded. “That you’ll keep on helping those that need it. You have the strength of the gods now. You can do it alone.”

“I don’t want the strength of the gods,” the hunter told him, his cerulean eyes brimming with tears. “It doesn’t mean anything to me without you here, Herc.”

“Well, well,” came a low voice from the corner. “That sounds like the testament of a man ready to bargain.”

Iolaus immediately leapt to his feet, standing protectively in front of his partner as he glared at the god of war. Hercules looked at his friend’s back in confusion.

“What’s going on?”

“Ares,” the hunter hissed. “Stay away from him.”

“Ares?” Hercules blinked and looked around the room. His vision was hazy from the fever, but even so, he failed to locate his half brother. Then he remembered. He was a mortal, unable to see gods unless they wanted him to. And for now, Ares only seemed to want an audience with the hunter.

“What is it with you two?” the god of war demanded, stepping out of the shadows to face Iolaus. “Every time I try and help, I meet with such hostility. If I were more sensitive, I think I’d be offended.”

“Stay away from him,” Iolaus repeated. “We don’t need your help.”

“You could have fooled me.” Ares looked past the hunter to where his half brother lay. “It looks like our dear Hercules has one foot in Charon’s boat already. I can help him, you know.”

“At what cost?”

“Well, naturally there is a price. But I’m feeling generous today, so it’s a rather small one. You give up your strength, I make him better.”

“And then when we’re both mortal, you kill us,” Iolaus finished for him.

“I’m a fair god. I’d give you a sporting chance. Of course, if you decline my offer, I doubt my noble brother will last the night. Think about it. The strength of the gods was a gift for you, but you haven’t had it that long. You wouldn’t miss it once its gone. So really, isn’t it a small price to pay to save Hercules?”

“What is he saying?” Hercules asked, knowing that the god of war was up to something. “Whatever he wants, don’t give in, Iolaus.” He struggled to sit up, but the small effort was too much exertion and he collapsed, unconscious, back against the pillows.

“Give me your word that you’ll help him if I do this,” the hunter demanded, throwing a desperate look behind him at the pallored face of his friend.

“You have my word,” Ares promised with a grand bow. “Now, about your end of the deal...”

Iolaus stepped forward, wincing slightly as the god reached out for him. The hunter dropped to the floor, momentarily weakened as the godly strength was ripped from his body. He recovered quickly, staggering to his feet to face Ares.

“I did what you wanted,” he panted. “Now keep your end of the bargain.”

The god of war grinned cruelly and folded his arms across his chest.

“Why bother? I mean, you were right. I am just going to kill him.”

“You gave me your word!” Iolaus growled in a threatening voice.

“I’m the god of war,” Ares laughed. “I don’t have to keep my word to mortals.”

“Ares, how many times do I have to tell you to fight fair?”

A bright glow filled the room as the regal figure of Zeus materialized before them.

“This isn’t your concern,” Ares snarled at his father.

“Anything involving one or more of my sons is certainly my concern,” the king of the gods told him with a somber look, daring him to argue. “Now, I believe a deal was made. Kindly keep your end of it.”

Ares stalled and grumbled, but not even he could refute the will of Zeus. With a stifled oath, he shot of bolt of light into his half brother. For a moment, Hercules’ body glowed brightly, then the light was absorbed inside of him, healing him instantly.

“You’re done here,” Zeus told his son firmly. “Go back home now.”

The god of war glared at Hercules, who was sitting up with the assistance of Iolaus.

“You can’t hide behind our father forever, Hercules,” he said in a low voice. “I’ll be waiting.” With a bright flash, he was gone, muttering under his breath at how he was never allowed to have any fun.

“I’m afraid he’s right,” Zeus sighed, facing his son. “You know he’ll try again before too long.”

“I know,” Hercules said evenly. “But that’s not going to stop me from doing what’s right.”

“I can’t give you back your strength, son. You forfeited it when you went into that cave.”

“Did I ask?” Hercules snapped, long since used to his father’s excuses.

“I can give it back to Iolaus, however,” the old god continued in a kinder voice. “And if he so desired, he could pass it on to you.”

“Wait a minute,” the hunter piped up. “You mean, you give the strength to me, and then I can give it back to Hercules?”

“If you chose,” Zeus confirmed. “Or you may keep it for yourself.”

Iolaus turned and looked at his partner, who met his questioning gaze with a soft smile.

“It’s your decision, Iolaus,” Hercules told him gently. “You deserve to have the strength of the gods. You’ve earned it. And if you want it for the next round, it’s all yours. No hard feelings.”

“No.” The hunter realized he didn’t need to think about it to come to a decision. “I wasn’t meant to be half god. You were, Herc. I want to get things back to normal.”

“Are you sure?” Hercules asked him. “You know what you’re giving up?”

“I’m not going to say it wasn’t cool thing to have,” Iolaus replied. “But this is the way it should be.”

“Then join hands and don’t let go until it’s over,” Zeus commanded.

Iolaus reached out, and Hercules somewhat hesitantly took his hand. The king of the gods gripped the hunter’s shoulder firmly and sent a bolt of power shooting into him. Iolaus felt the electric energy pulse through him, before flowing down his arm, through his hand, and into his best friend.

“I’m proud of you both,” Zeus rumbled, favoring them with a smile as his image began to fade. “Take care of each other.”

Hercules stretched his arms above his head, unable to hold back a grin as he felt his usual strength coursing through his limbs. Iolaus grinned back at him, clapping him on the back with a hearty thump.

“Good to have you back, Herc.”

The demigod pulled his partner into a crushing hug.

“Thank you, Iolaus. Thank you for helping me through everything, and for putting up with me while I was railing at you. Thank you for looking out for me, but mostly, thank you for this.”

“I didn’t do anything,” the hunter muttered, embarrassed.

“You gave it all away, for me,” Hercules said. “No one else would have done that.”

“Well, you gave it all away for me first,” Iolaus reminded him. “I was just returning the favor. And anyway, you can keep your strength. I don’t want it. Too much responsibility.”

“Not easy being me, is it?” the demigod teased, then he grew serious. “But then again, it’s not easy being you, either, is it?”

“Yeah, I guess we’ve kind of walked in each other’s boots a little over the last few days, haven’t we?”

“I’ll tell you what I’ve learned,” Hercules told his friend. “Being mortal has just made me realize how extraordinary you are, Iolaus.”

When the hunter tried to protest, the demigod interrupted him and kept going.

“You are, my friend. Your abilities go far beyond the limits of a normal man, and I’m sorry if sometimes I lose sight of that. I don’t mean to be condescending to you, and if I’m protective sometimes, well... It’s just because I care about you and I don’t want to see you get hurt. But I know you take those risks willingly, and I realize that I can’t stand in your way. From now on, I’m going to try and let you go and trust in your skills. I’ll always be at your back, but no more pushing you behind me.”

“I appreciate that,” Iolaus told him quietly. “And I suppose that I’ve learned when you have the weight of the world on your shoulders, you don’t need one more burden added on. I promise to try and remember that I am mortal, and I’ll try not to be so reckless.”

“Good luck with that one,” Hercules snorted derisively.

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve been promising me that since you were sixteen.”

“You think I can’t do it?” the hunter demanded. “You just wait and see. From now on, I’m going to be the most careful warrior there is, I promise you.”

“Iolaus, my friend,” the demigod said grandly, looping an arm around his partner’s shoulders. “Just promise me that you won’t ever change. Come on, let’s go find Breanna and let her know we want a celebration, instead of a funeral.”

The two warriors finally began their much maligned trip to Mycenae. After walking for most of the morning in silence, Iolaus finally turned to his companion.

“What are you brooding about?”

Hercules was a bit startled, but then he smiled. His partner always had the ability to read his mind.

“I guess I’m just thinking about Plinth. About all those poor people had to suffer, because of me.”

“Herc, those people had to suffer because Hera is an evil bitch. You can’t blame yourself.”

“How can I not? She cursed that village because they all believed in me and my lofty ideals. All those men died because of me.”

“I felt guilty about it too, but it all comes down to this. Hera is the one that had the temper tantrum. Hera is the one that cursed that village. Hera is the one that made those people suffer. And Hera is the only one responsible for what Hera does. She may have done this in your name, but she’s the one who did it. We tried to help, and we do the best we can to keep her in line. Nobody could ask any more than that.”

“I know you’re right,” Hercules sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I just can’t help feeling guilty.”

“That’s because of your heart,” Iolaus told him fondly. “You may have the blood of the gods in your veins, but your real strength comes from your heart. That’s what makes you the true hero, Hercules. You care about people and you try to help where you can. The fact that you’re the strongest man in Greece is completely irrelevant.”

“If that’s true,” the demigod whispered. “Then everything I know about being a hero, I learned from you, my friend. Thank you.”

He stepped forward, drawing his partner into a tight hug, which was enthusiastically returned. Their last adventure had almost held tragic consequences for both of them, and each man silently thanked the fates that the other had come through it all right.

“Did you hear that?” Iolaus quickly pulled away from the demigod, his eyes lighting up in anticipation of excitement as a scream echoed along the quiet road. “Bandits, probably. Or maybe a monster. Come on, Herc!”

Hercules sighed as he began to jog after the hunter, who was already tearing off down the road, his former promise to be more careful apparently utterly forgotten.

“Yep,” the demigod murmured, turning the corner to see Iolaus already brawling with a group of bandits. “Everything’s back to normal.”

finis

Disclaimer: No butt-ugly Hera monsters were harmed during the writing of this story.

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