Author's Note: This story involves the death of a major character. If you are sensitive to or offended by these types of plotlines, turn back now. As always, just borrowing the characters not owned by me for a little non-profit entertainment. No copyright infringement intended.
“It’s been too long, brother.”
Iphicles’ words were heartfelt as he gazed across the table at Hercules. Once consumed by jealousy and feelings of inadequacy, he had despised his half-god brother in his youth. But time healed, and the bitterness faded as Iphicles came to terms with who he was and made peace with his destiny in life. He might not have been the son of Zeus, but reigning as the king of Corinth was a close second. Iphicles was comfortable with himself, and he and Hercules had been reforming their relationship over the past few years. They were finally able to call each other “brother” and mean it, sincerely and affectionately.
“I was just thinking the same thing.” Hercules sighed contentedly. For once, no one was pleading for his help. There were no wars to stop, no warlords to overthrow, and no monsters to kill. Just peace and quiet. Time to recuperate, relax, and rest up until the next call for help came.
Iphicles grinned at his brother, before glancing over to include Iolaus in his warm smile. He had also grown to care very much for the man that was Hercules’ best friend. Although he had been jealous of the hunter as well, envious of the close bond that he shared with Hercules and knowing that no matter how much their relationship progressed, Hercules would never love him as much as he did Iolaus, his “brother of the heart”. But in the end, that didn’t matter. Iolaus was much too charming to dislike for long, having a way of winning over virtually every person he met. Not to mention the fact that he had once saved Iphicles’ life, years ago. Iolaus was brave and selfless, and it was impossible not to be drawn into his bright energy. And, as the partners both seemed to have given up on domestic family life, Iphicles was glad that they had each other to rely on. They were an unbeatable team, and he worried less about the dangers they encountered if he knew they were together, guarding each other’s backs.
As for himself, Iphicles had definitely voted in favor of the domestic family life. Rising from his chair, he hurried over to help Evadne up. Their first child was expected any day now, and her swollen girth made it difficult for her to accomplish such tasks gracefully. Evadne smiled lovingly at her husband, then made an apology to their guests as she excused herself to go lie down. Iphicles watched her leave the room, his heart skipping a beat as he drank in her radiant beauty. After his beloved Rena had died, he didn’t think he’d ever love anyone again. But then, he had met Princess Evadne at a royal function, and she had immediately stolen his heart. She was the daughter of Creon, King of Cadmeia, who was known to be a bit of a hard-edged rogue. But Evadne was nothing like her father. She was sweet and kind and gentle, and breathtakingly beautiful. Iphicles had fallen madly in love with her, and it seemed like too much to hope for that she could feel the same way about him. But, Aphrodite had smiled upon them, and they were married within the year.
“I’m really happy for you, Iphicles,” Hercules said softly. He knew how devastated his brother had been once Rena passed away, and it filled his heart with joy to see him find love once again. The demigod had convinced himself over the last few years that having a family just wasn’t in the fates’ plan for him. He treasured his memories of Deianeira and the kids, and of Serena, but he didn’t think he could do it again. It wasn’t fair to the family that he left behind when he went off helping people. Neglecting work at home to go off and help total strangers. And to be honest with himself, Hercules was afraid to risk it. He was afraid to let himself become that vulnerable again, not sure he could take the pain if he had to face the loss of someone he had allowed himself to care deeply about. No, it was better to leave things as they were. Just him and Iolaus.
Iphicles suggested that they adjourn to his study, which they did. Hercules and Iolaus made themselves comfortable in the soft chairs next to the roaring fire as Iphicles filled the wine goblets and handed them out. They spent a pleasant evening talking and reliving past adventures. But soon, Iolaus found himself stifling yawns. The demigod and his brother were in the middle of a good natured argument over who had broken Alcmene’s favorite clay bowl when they were children as the hunter bid them good night and headed up the grand staircase to his room. It had been a long day’s walk to Corinth, and he was exhausted.
Sighing, Iolaus entered his room and looked around appreciatively. He always used the same one every time they stayed at the castle. It was big and airy, and very pretty, but was not as adorned as some of the other guest rooms. He appreciated the creature comforts and the luxuries just like anyone else, but the hunter didn’t really care for all the hoopla and finery that some of Iphicles’ royal guests were accustomed to. And after all the time he and Hercules spent camping in the woods, a warm, dry room with a soft, clean bed was all the luxury he needed.
Iolaus sat down on the edge of the bed and rubbed his hands wearily over his face. As much as he hated to admit it to himself, he had to face the truth. He was getting older, and he was starting to slow down. His reflexes were still quick and he was still a formidable opponent in battle, but he was starting to notice little things. After a day of traveling, he was completely beat. And the restless energy that he’d possessed all his life was diminishing. His usual bouncing walk was gradually being replaced by a steady gait. It wasn’t really anything to worry about yet, but the hunter knew it was the beginning of the end. In a few years, he knew a lot of his speed and strength would be gone. And when that happened, he knew his adventuring days by Hercules’ side would be over. Thanks to a stubborn streak a mile wide, the hunter had always refused to acknowledge that he couldn’t do something or needed help. But, he promised himself that when the time came where he wasn’t up to the physical challenges anymore, he would step down as Hercules’ partner. They depended on each other so much, and trusted each other with their lives. Iolaus knew that his friend would always trust him implicitly, and he would never willingly put them in a position where he might not be able to guard the demigod’s back. He simply would not risk Hercules’ life with an act of such stupidity.
But, hopefully that day was still a ways off. For now, Iolaus was still enjoying life on the road and all it had to offer. Enjoying it more than ever, because he could see now that it wouldn’t last forever. He was determined to make the most out of whatever adventures they had left together. Right after their quiet vacation in Corinth. Iolaus grinned as he sunk down into the softness of the bed. Sometimes, royalty definitely had its perks.
“I’ve missed Corinth,” Iolaus declared, inhaling the air appreciatively as he walked through the marketplace with Hercules. He took in the scent of exotic spices, fresh baked breads, boar stew wafting across the breeze from the nearby inn, rich ale, heady perfumes, all mixed together with the dust of the road and the people that traversed it.
Hercules didn’t answer, but he inwardly agreed. They had been coming to Corinth ever since they had been kids at the Academy, and it felt like home. Iphicles had taken care to continue the benevolent rule Jason had started. As a result, the city was clean and bright, orderly without being repressive. The people were treated fairly, and were generally a happy, friendly group. Along with his partner, the demigod did feel a sense of peace upon returning to Corinth after they had been away too long. He was content to spend the morning wandering through the marketplace, browsing the wares and just watching the people going on with their lives. Finally, when the sun hit its noon position, he stopped walking in front of the inn and turned to Iolaus.
“Do you want to get something to eat?”
“Sure,” the hunter murmured. Hercules immediately saw that his partner was distracted by something, and didn’t even bother to follow his gaze to see what it was. There was only one thing that could tear Iolaus’ attention away from his stomach: a pretty girl.
“I’ll go in and get a table. You can join me when you’re done.” The demigod’s words weren’t irritated, rather they were spoken with patient resignation. He was used to Iolaus’ constant infatuations.
The hunter nodded and began making his way across the busy street toward the lovely blond woman who was selling flowers from behind a small stall. Hercules just shook his head and entered the inn, finding a table and ordering a mug of mead. He didn’t think Iolaus would be long. Either the girl would give him the brush off, or else she would succumb to his charms and agree to meet him later that night. If the demigod was inclined to bet, he would have put all his dinars on the latter choice. There weren’t many women that could resist his partner’s blinding smile and twinkling blue eyes.
Hercules craned his neck as the serving girl passed his table with two bowls of the boar stew. It looked pretty good, and the smell of it was an indication that it might be edible. There was nothing more disappointing than slogging through the elements all day, in anticipation of a hot meal, and being served an overpriced bowl of greasy, rancid tasting slop. Unfortunately, it happened more often than not, which was one of the reasons they relied so heavily on a fish and rabbit diet while traveling. True, they hadn’t been walking all day, and there was a castle full of servants just up the hill waiting to cater to their every craving. But, that castle started becoming claustrophobic after awhile. Sometimes it was nice just to go out and mingle with other people. And besides, he was hungry. No matter how you worked up an appetite, bad food was still a let down.
Deciding that the stew looked good and figuring that Iolaus wouldn’t be long in joining him, Hercules caught the girl on her return trip past his table and ordered two servings, along with a loaf of bread and a plate of fruit. He knew that Iolaus and his never-ending appetite would probably want a double serving, but it was a good start. Picking up his mead, the demigod sipped it thoughtfully as he glanced around the room, looking to see if he recognized anyone.
A commotion coming from outside made him start. There was a rumbling and a lot of yelling, and Hercules immediately forgot about his lunch as he dashed outside to see what was going on. A crowd of people had gathered in the street. Using his height to his advantage, Hercules strained to see over the heads that were mostly below his eye level. A wagon had apparently lost control and had crashed into the fountain in the middle of the road. Several people were trying to calm the panicked horses as they reared and whinnied in fright, while others were helping the driver stumble out of the wreckage. But another crowd was gathered around something else in the road a few hundred yards away. They were packed tightly, making it impossible for Hercules to see what they were surrounding. Suddenly going deaf to the chaos around him, the demigod began pushing his way through the onlookers, a sudden jolt of fear stopping his heart.
Iolaus was crumpled on the ground. The people were hovering nervously around him, wanting to help but afraid to touch him, not wanting to injure him further. The only exception was a beautiful woman, who was kneeling beside him and holding his hand. Instantly, Hercules was beside his friend.
“What happened?” he demanded in horror.
“Iolaus and I were talking by my stand,” the girl whispered in a tight voice. “That wagon just came barreling through the street. People were diving to get out of the way, but there was a little girl...” Her voice broke, and she cleared her throat before continuing. “I was sure she was going to be struck down right before my eyes. But Iolaus dove in front of the wagon and pushed her out of the way. He saved her life, but he couldn’t get out of the way in time. The wheels went right over him...” She trailed off, not able to stop the tears that had been threatening to fall.
“Herc?”
“I’m here, buddy.” As carefully as he could, the demigod lifted his partner’s head and rested it in his lap. “Just hang on. You’re going to be all right.”
His pulse was faint, pain glazed his eyes, and he was gasping for breath, but Iolaus smiled. It was a brilliant, golden smile that nobody else ever got to see, full of love for the one person for which it was reserved. Everything he was and everything he had was contained in that smile. For a moment, his cerulean eyes cleared, and Hercules read all that was still unsaid between them.
“Iolaus, hang on!” he ordered desperately. “You can’t leave me like this!”
But with a last, painful gasp, the hunter jerked once and stilled, the light rapidly fading from the depths of his eyes. Iolaus of Thebes, partner to Hercules, had died the hero that he was, trading his life for the life of a child.
“Iolaus,” Hercules whispered hoarsely. He gave the limp body a small shake. “Iolaus, you can’t leave me. Don’t do this. Please, you have to fight.”
But the battle was lost. After several minutes of pleading with the man that had meant more to him than any other ever could, Hercules finally realized that his friend was gone. The brother of his heart was gone, his life snuffed out in an instant. Huge sobs overtook the demigod as he pulled the lifeless body into his arms, rocking him gently as he buried his face into the golden curls. The onlookers all turned away in tears. For those that had known Iolaus, they were mourning the loss of a great man. And for those that were strangers, they also mourned this brave warrior who had given his life in a selfless act, and also for the man in torment who held him like he would never let him go.
As Iphicles entered the marketplace, his own heart constricted in pain. One of his guards had summoned him from the castle, offering a brief explanation. At first, the king hadn’t wanted to believe him. But there it was, before his eyes. Hercules, crouched in the street, clinging to the body of Iolaus.
“He won’t let anyone near him, Highness,” the guard told him worriedly. “I’m afraid he’s gone mad.”
“Let me try and talk to him.” Iphicles waved away the crowd of guards that had accompanied him and cautiously moved forward.
“Get away.” The words had come out of Hercules’ throat in an angry growl, and the tone chilled the king’s heart. But he took another few steps and knelt down in front of his brother.
“Hercules, its me.” There was no response, the demigod’s eyes fixed on his friend’s face as he silently rocked him. “Hercules, can you hear me?” He reached out a hand to touch his brother, and instantly Hercules had his wrist in a crushing grip. “Hercules, what are you doing? Stop it! It’s me!”
“Iphicles?” Something snapped in the demigod as he finally recognized the man before him. Instantly he let go. The king cradled his sore wrist against his chest and held up his other hand to stop the horde of guards that had started to charge forward in his defense.
“It’s me,” he confirmed. “I’m here to help you.”
“There was an accident,” Hercules whispered. “Iolaus is hurt.”
“Hercules.” Iphicles had to force the words past the lump in his throat. He hadn’t had time to register yet that Iolaus was dead. There would be time to deal with his own grief later, once the awful fact had truly sunk in. But for now, he had to take care of his brother, and seeing the raw pain on the demigod’s face was killing him. “We have to go back to the castle.”
Hercules didn’t respond, but kept rocking the lifeless body.
“Come on, Hercules.” Iphicles reached out a tentative hand to rest on his brother’s shoulder. The demigod flinched, but allowed the gesture. “You can’t stay out here in the street.”
Hercules still refused to acknowledge him. Iphicles could see by his pallor and his enlarged pupils that his brother was in shock. He needed to get him back to the castle to the healer.
“Hercules,” he said in desperation. “We have to get Iolaus back to the castle so that we can take care of him.” That did it. The demigod rose to his feet, but still held tightly to the body of his partner, refusing to relinquish him to anyone. Sighing, Iphicles led him back towards the castle. He’d deal with making Hercules confront the fact that Iolaus was dead and sooner or later he’d have to let him go once they got there. And he also wanted to get his brother off the street as quickly as possible. He could only imagine the blind grief that Hercules would be feeling over his best friend’s death, and if that was going to trigger a breakdown, Iphicles wanted it to happen in the privacy of the castle, away from prying eyes.
Once they had returned, Iphicles shut himself up alone with Hercules in his room. He spent a long time talking softly with his brother while making him sip the herbal tea that the healer had made for him. Eventually, he began to get through. When he finally left the room in the darkness of night, Hercules was curled in a tight ball on his bed, eyes staring blankly ahead. But at least he had relinquished his protective hold on Iolaus. And as the night wore on, Hercules finally succumbed to the exhaustion of grief and the sedative in the tea and lost himself to oblivion.
Dawn’s early rays were streaming in through the window when Hercules awoke. For a moment, he had an odd, unsettling feeling that something was wrong. Then suddenly the events of the previous day all came flooding back to him. Iolaus was dead. Throwing off the blanket covering him, Hercules leapt off the bed, doing a double take as he saw his father sitting in the chair across the room.
“Zeus?” he asked, blinking hard and wondering if he was still dreaming. “What are you doing here?”
“Hades asked me to come,” the king of the gods told his son. “As soon as Iolaus crossed to the other side, he contacted me, sure that you’d be following on his heels.”
“And he was right,” Hercules said stubbornly, bending over to pull on his boots. “I’m going to get him back.”
“Son,” Zeus said softly, coming forward and putting a hand on the demigod’s shoulder. “Iolaus is dead.”
“I don’t care,” Hercules burst out. “I can’t lose him, don’t you understand that? I can’t go on without Iolaus. I’ve gotten him back before, and I can do it again.”
“No, you can’t. Please, Hercules, just listen to me.” The god’s tone was gentle and sympathetic, one that Hercules had never heard him use before. It was enough to make him pause and listen to what his father had to say. “I’ve watched the two of you together for the course of your entire lives. If anyone can understand how you felt about him, its me. You’ve been through some rough times together. And through it all, Iolaus was always there. Supporting you, inspiring you, even guiding you at times. He was your anchor, keeping you focused when the rest of the world was trying to break you down. Iolaus was there through the good and the bad. He was there for you when I never was.”
Hercules looked at his father evenly. Zeus gave him a sad smile and squeezed the shoulder beneath his hand as he continued.
“Iolaus was special. But ultimately, he was a mortal. And mortals grow older and mortals die. Its just a part of life. Iolaus has been granted a few second chances over the years, but this time I’m afraid its permanent. He had a good, full life, and he also had a good death. He died a hero, and I know I don’t have to tell you that he’d say it was worth the price of his life to save that little girl.”
The demigod nodded his agreement, eyes starting to fill with tears.
“I know how hard its going to be for you to go on without him. But you have to let him go, son, and you have to carry on with your life. Iolaus would never want you to give up on life just because he could no longer be a part of it. Let him go, and do your best to honor his memory.”
“I don’t know if I can,” Hercules whispered.
“You have to. Hercules, if you go down to the underworld to attempt to get him back, you will never leave there. This isn’t an idle threat. I’ve given you a lot of leniency in the past, but not this time. Iolaus is dead, and you are going to have to find a way to accept that.”
“I loved him,” the demigod choked out, just barely keeping control of himself. “And if you really cared anything for me at all, even a little, you’d give him back to me.”
“You have to remember something, Hercules. You and Iolaus shared an unbreakable bond, stronger than anything I’ve ever seen before. If you have faith in that, then you will never be alone. He will always be with you.” And with that, Zeus was gone.
Hercules overturned the table in the middle of his room in a fit of rage. Once again, his father had denied his pleas for help and had turned away from him. The demigod sunk to the floor, his rising emotions getting the better of him. He let the grief overtake him, and when he had no tears left, he rose wearily and went to the window. With a flick of his wrist, he slid the heavy drapes across the bar to block out the sun. Apollo’s golden orb only reminded him of golden curls, and a light in blue eyes that he would never see again.
As the evening shadows began to settle over the land, Hercules silently left his room and joined Iphicles in the courtyard of the palace. They stood beside the funeral pyre, just the two of them. Hercules hadn’t wanted a crowd. Iphicles had already commissioned Corinth’s best sculptor to create a monument in Iolaus’ memory, and the demigod figured that anyone wanting to pay their respects could do it there. He wanted this to be a private goodbye.
“Tonight we gather to say farewell to Iolaus,” Iphicles began. He wasn’t using his “royal” voice, as he usually did during such ceremonies. Instead, he spoke softly, the respect and sadness evident in his tone. “He was a great warrior and an honorable man who gave up his life for another. He died a true hero.” Glancing over at his brother, Iphicles knew that Hercules didn’t care about any of that. In a gentle voice, he continued. “But more than that, he was a great friend. Iolaus had a kind heart, an unselfish nature, and he was loyal to the death to all he cared about. May he be at peace in the Elysian Fields, and know how much he’ll be loved and missed.”
Hercules stepped forward to the form on the pyre. Pulling the white linen sheet back, he gazed one last time upon the beloved face of his heart’s brother. Brushing back a stray golden curl from the cold forehead, he forced himself to smile through his tears.
“Goodbye, my friend,” he whispered. Iphicles handed him the torch, and after a moment of hesitation, Hercules touched the flame to the wood, watching as it became consumed in fire. He refused to move until the last ember had died, watching as the speck of glowing red ash burnt out, leaving the night to its blackness. Iphicles had remained silently beside him the entire time. He was hoping to be a comfort to his brother, but Hercules had no grief left. All that remained was hollowness, and a dull ache where his heart used to be. Nothing mattered to him anymore. A part of him, the best part, had died along with Iolaus.
Iphicles knocked on the heavy door, but was not surprised that he received no response. It was late, but he knew his brother wasn’t sleeping. Hercules had barely slept at all since Iolaus had been taken from him. He’d stopped eating, and he refused to leave his room or to see anyone else, even close friends that had come to Corinth as news of the tragedy had spread. The king was really starting to worry about him.
Sighing heavily, Iphicles pushed the door open and entered the room. Hercules was in his usual spot, sitting in the chair in the corner where he could watch the door. He spent hour after hour sitting there, staring at the door as if he expected that any minute Iolaus was going to come bursting through. Even as Iphicles entered, the demigod’s face took on a brief look of hopeful expectation, which quickly faded as he identified his visitor.
“Hercules,” Iphicles said, pulling up the chair next to his brother. “I have something to tell you. Evadne had the baby! I have a son! And you have a brand new nephew.”
“That’s... great.” The voice was flat and cold. Hercules knew he should be happy for his brother, but he could feel nothing. He was an emotionless void, empty and aching.
“Evadne and I were wondering,” Iphicles began slowly, trying to hide his disappointment. He was so excited, and he’d been hoping this bit of news would garner a reaction from his brother. It was very disheartening not to have Hercules sharing in that excitement. “We wanted to honor Iolaus’ memory, and we wondered how you’d feel if we named the baby after him.”
“He would have loved that,” Hercules said finally. It was true, Iolaus would have been tickled to death. But the demigod wasn’t happy about it. There was only one Iolaus, and there could never be another like him. In his mind, there was nobody deserving enough to carry his name, even if it was his own nephew.
“Little Iolaus it is, then,” Iphicles declared. Putting a hand on his brother’s arm, he twisted to look into Hercules’ eyes. “Will you come and see him?”
“Maybe later.” The demigod’s voice made it clear that he didn’t care if he ever saw the baby. Nodding, biting back his frustration, Iphicles stood up and left his brother alone. He couldn’t find it in his heart to be angry with him, though. Without Iolaus, Hercules was lost, and Iphicles was starting to doubt that he’d ever find his way back.
Hercules saw the wagon coming. The little girl in its path was frozen in terror. Just before she was hit, Iolaus pushed her out of the way. The heavy wheels crushed Iolaus beneath them as Hercules screamed. He rushed over to his fallen friend, staring down at the lifeless body. A hand touched his shoulder. He turned to look at Iolaus, smiling at him.
“Have faith in us, Hercules, and I’ll always be with you.”
The demigod jerked awake quickly, the intensity of the dream leaving him trembling and breathless. Shaking his head slightly to clear away the cobwebs, he rose somewhat stiffly out of the chair and went to the window, drawing back the drapes to look out into the black night. The words that Iolaus had said to him in the dream haunted him. They were essentially the same thing that Zeus had told him, and as he thought back on it, Hercules realized that there had been something cryptic in his father’s advice. What had he meant by that?
Giving his head another shake, Hercules sighed as he realized that he had to get a grip on himself. He knew that everyone was worried about him, and he knew that if Iolaus could see how he’d been acting, the hunter would ream him out good. The demigod knew he was betraying all that they had believed in, and all that they had fought for. But how could he go on helping people when he no longer could feel any compassion? How could he fight against the gods when he no longer cared what havoc they wrecked? How could he go on with his life when he no longer had the desire to do so? He HAD lost his faith. But, how was he expected to keep it alive when the one that sustained it was gone?
Idly, he wondered if he would have fallen apart so quickly if he’d had an outlet to channel his emotions. But there was nothing. There was no god or bandit or warlord from which to extract vengeance. He couldn’t take the satisfaction of killing a monster. There wasn’t even anyone to be angry with. The accident that had taken his friend’s life had been tragic, but that’s all it had been. There was no one to blame, no one to fault, and worst of all, no one to explain just why Iolaus had died.
Hercules’ gaze began to shift from the starry sky above him down to the blackness below. It would be so easy for him to end his pain, and also the pain of his friends who were watching him suffer. But not that way. Turning away from the window, the demigod dressed quickly. Zeus had warned him that if he went to the underworld in search of Iolaus, he’d never leave. But Hercules didn’t care. Over the past few years, Iolaus had become his whole world, and he knew he simply could not face life without his partner by his side. If he could somehow succeed in bringing Iolaus back with him, then that would be wonderful. But if he couldn’t, then he had no desire to return to the living anyway. Sure, Iolaus would be mad at him for awhile, but he’d get over it. After all, they had vowed to go out back to back.
Hercules slipped out of his room, leaving it for the first time since he had laid his friend to rest. Quietly, he crept along the darkened hallways of the castle, feeling weak and a bit lightheaded from not eating or sleeping in days, but he was firmly convinced he’d made the right decision. Holding on tightly to the railing, the demigod carefully made his way down the grand staircase. As he neared the bottom, an infuriated wail assaulted his ears.
Iphicles stepped out of his study, bouncing his infant son gently in his arms as he tried to soothe him. He walked the baby across the great hallway once and was turning to go back when he caught sight of his brother lingering on the stairway.
“Hercules,” he said in surprise, shifting the baby to his other arm. “What are you doing down here so late?”
The demigod could hear the note of excitement in his brother’s voice, and he knew that Iphicles was taking it as a positive sign that he had finally left his self-imposed exile. But if he only knew....
“Just getting some air,” he muttered, his eyes riveted on the small bundle that was putting up such a fuss in the king’s arms.
“Hope we didn’t wake you,” Iphicles continued. “Little Iolaus just seems to be inconsolable tonight.”
‘I know how you feel,’ Hercules thought to himself, hoping that his brother didn’t see him cringe as he’d heard the baby’s name. But something made the demigod pause, a brief feeling of guilt rushing through him. This child, his own nephew, was already a week old and he hadn’t even made the slightest attempt to see him. Since this would probably be his last chance, Hercules decided to seize the opportunity.
“Can I hold him?” he asked, a bit hesitantly. Iphicles grinned and immediately handed over the squirming bundle to his brother. As Hercules cradled the baby to his chest, the child’s anguished wails began to subside. In moments, he had fallen silent, lulled by the strong arms that rocked him gently.
“I guess he just wanted his Uncle Hercules,” Iphicles said softly.
The demigod moved the blanket away from the baby’s face, moving closer to the torch on the wall to get a good look at his nephew. He looked strikingly like Iphicles, but there was a hint of Evadne’s gentle features as well. All in all, he was a beautiful baby. The child stirred slightly, giving a big yawn before opening his eyes and looking straight up in the demigod’s face.
“Iolaus.” The word came out in a strangled whisper as Hercules’ heart leapt into his throat. He knew those eyes anywhere, and they were not the eyes of an infant. The blue depths held wisdom, kindness, love, and a hint of mischief. They were not the eyes of his brother by blood. They were the eyes of the brother of his heart.
“Hercules, are you all right?” Iphicles had seen the change come over his brother’s face, but he had been unable to identify it.
“I...don’t know,” the demigod choked out. Quickly, he handed the baby back to his father and began sprinting towards the door to the palace.
“Where are you going?” The king called out after him.
“There’s something I have to do.” Hercules paused in the doorway for a moment, looking back at his brother briefly before disappearing out into the night. His mind was spinning in confusion as he passed through the castle grounds and out the gate, past all the guards, barely registering their presence. As those oh so familiar blue eyes had looked up at him, a massive wave of emotions had surged through him. Hercules had grown used to the emptiness inside, and he wasn’t sure how to deal with all the conflicting feelings swirling in his heart. The only thing he could be sure of was that he needed an explanation.
Without even really knowing where he was going, the demigod headed east through the quiet streets of Corinth, walking with an instinctual purpose until he found himself at the doors of Zeus’ temple. Taking a deep breath, he stepped inside, breathing in the heavy incense and listening to his footsteps echo through the great chamber as he made his way to the altar. Hercules slumped to the floor, resting his back against the cool marble of the altar, and finding that he just couldn’t call out for his father’s help. But he didn’t need to, for in the end, Zeus came to him.
“It’s him, isn’t it?” Hercules whispered as a bright light appeared in the gloom of the temple. “I know it’s him. But how...?”
“I told you,” Zeus chided gently. “You and Iolaus are bonded at the soul. Not even death can keep you apart for long. I don’t really understand it myself, but somehow, he’s found his way back to you.”
Hercules felt hot tears stinging his eyes. Iolaus. He never quit, not even after he was dead. If the demigod couldn’t come get him, then naturally he’d find his own way back. Hercules had lost his faith, but it didn’t matter. Iolaus had found a way to bring it back to him.
“It won’t be the same,” Zeus continued. “He won’t be the same person that he was, and he’ll remember nothing of his former life. But the bond that you shared and the love you had for one another will still be there. Nothing can ever come between that.”
The demigod ran a hand through his tangled chestnut locks. He didn’t know what to think, but through the confusion and his rampant emotions, a tiny flame of hope had begun to burn. Hercules had always known that Iolaus possessed an inner strength that surpassed even his own. But he was finally starting to get a glimpse of just how deep that strength ran, and just how powerful it could be.
“You’re a mess, boy,” Zeus said fondly, taking in his son’s neglected appearance. “It will be morning soon. Stay here for the rest of the night, and clean up a little before you leave.”
“Thank you,” Hercules whispered as his father vanished. But he didn’t know why he was thanking the king of the gods. Zeus had nothing to do with this. This one was all Iolaus...
The demigod suddenly realized how exhausted he was. Curling up on the hard floor next to the altar, he allowed himself to relax for the first time in days and drifted off into a deep, dreamless sleep. As morning dawned, he was awakened by the arrival of the temple priestesses. They greeted him warmly, and saw to it that he was properly bathed and attended to before serving him a lavish meal. Hercules’ appetite had returned, and he ate vigorously. Thanking the women, the demigod took his leave and stepped out of the temple into the bright streets of Corinth.
Walking slowly back to the castle, Hercules felt the warmth of the sun on his face and took a deep breath of the morning air. He felt distinctly better, full of optimism and feeling like he could once again face the world. Indeed, he felt like he had come alive once more. Iolaus had returned to him. Maybe he wouldn’t be exactly the same, but nothing could ever change the power of his heart and the strength of his soul. And though it would be a few years before he could recapture his place at Hercules’ side, the demigod knew it would be worth the wait. All that really mattered was that Iolaus was back to fill up the emptiness inside of his heart.
As he passed through the marketplace, something caught the demigod’s eye. The girl that Iolaus had been flirting with right before his death was putting the finishing touches on her stand. Hercules hesitated a moment, then stepped up and cleared his throat gently.
“Hercules,” she said softly, searching his face. “How are you?”
“I’m going to be all right.” He smiled slightly, feeling conviction behind his words. “But I would like your best bouquet, please.”
The lovely young lady smiled back at him and began picking out her best flowers for an arrangement. She was relieved to see the demigod out, for there were rumors flying around the city that the legendary hero had gone mad and Iphicles had locked him in the castle dungeon to stop him from hurting anyone. Although she hadn’t wanted to believe such wild stories, the last time anyone had seen Hercules was when he was in the street sobbing over the lifeless body of his friend. He’d certainly been close to madness at that point. But now he was before her, looking well under the circumstances, and he seemed to have made peace with what had happened. Gathering up her flowers, the girl tied them carefully with a bright red ribbon and handed them to the waiting demigod.
“How much do I owe you?”
“Forget it,” she said, giving him another beautiful smile. “These are on the house.”
Hercules tried to protest, but she refused to take even one dinar from him. Thanking her, he continued on his way, but his attentions were soon captured by another stand. Brightly painted toys were on display, and Hercules critically looked over the dolls, the toy soldiers, and the carved animals. He picked up a toy bow and arrow set, but quickly put it down as something else caught his eye. It was a toy chariot that a child could ride in, pulled along by a handle. The demigod knelt down and examined it. It was solidly made, painted bright blue with the elaborately etched sides detailed in gold. Truly it was a beautiful piece, and seemed somehow perfect.
“How much is this?” he asked, afraid that it would be far out of his price range.
The toy maker hesitated. He had worked long and hard on the exquisite chariot, and he’d been hoping to get a good price for it. But he recognized Hercules, who was the brother of the king of Corinth. Giving him a deal might serve him well down the line, and undoubtedly this was meant to be a gift for the new prince. Besides, there was an urgent longing in the demigod’s eyes. For whatever reason, he needed this toy.
Finally, they agreed on a price. It was less than the chariot was worth, but the toy maker did not feel cheated in the slightest. He was an old man that took pride in his craft, and he knew that his creation would be going into good hands, where it would be appreciated and taken care of. That was more important to him than a few dinars.
Hercules made his way through the marketplace with no more stops. He knew that the people were all staring at him, but out of respect and sympathy, no one bothered him. Actually, he preferred it that way. He was in a hurry to return to the palace, wanting to reassure Iphicles that, contrary to the way he‘d run out into the darkness the night before, he really hadn‘t lost his mind. And of course, to properly welcome his new nephew, also his oldest friend, back into the world.
“Hercules. Are you all right? We were starting to worry about you.”
“I’m ok,” the demigod told his brother, who had met him as he’d come into the castle. Iphicles couldn’t get over the change in Hercules. The day before he’d been lost in grief, but now he seemed like his old self.
“What happened to you?” he asked softly.
“A realization,” Hercules answered. “I can’t really explain, but I realized that one way or another, Iolaus will always be with me. I can’t betray him by giving up on everything we believed in. And I can’t keep his memory alive if I give up on life.”
“I’m glad, I guess.” The king was still confused over Hercules’ sudden change of heart. “If you’re sure you’re ok.”
“I’ll be fine,” he assured his brother. “But it sounds like little Iolaus isn’t having a good morning.”
The baby’s angry cries could be heard from where they stood. Hercules grinned at his brother and followed the sound into the dining room. With a guilty start, he realized he hadn’t even thought to ask how Evadne had come through the labor. She looked well, but tired, as she tried to soothe her baby as her breakfast grew cold on the table before her.
“Congratulations, Evadne,” Hercules told her, kissing her cheek as he handed her the flowers. “I’m sorry its so long overdue.” She gave him a grateful smile as he took the wailing baby from her and cradled the infant to his broad chest.
“Now then, Iolaus,” he crooned in the baby’s ear. “What’s with all this noise?”
The child snuffled a bit but quieted, as Iphicles looked on in wonder.
“Seems like Uncle Hercules has the magic touch,” he grinned. “Maybe you wouldn’t mind coming back for a little babysitting in between saving the world.”
Hercules smiled and moved over to the window as Iphicles sat down at the table next to his queen and showed her the toy chariot. The demigod bent his head down to his nephew, inhaling the sweet scent of the infant as he kissed the sparse hair.
“I don’t think they need to worry about that,” he whispered conspiratorially to the baby. “You and I are going to be together for a long time, aren’t we buddy?”
“Hercules, this is adorable,” Evadne gushed, running a delicate hand over the chariot’s glossy side.
“My little charioteer,” Iphicles said proudly, beaming at his son as Hercules came back over to the table to join them for breakfast. The baby lay contentedly in his uncle’s arms for some time, gazing up at him with those clear blue eyes, but eventually he began to fuss.
“He’s probably hungry again,” Evadne sighed, taking the child from the demigod. “Our little Iolaus seems to have an appetite big enough for two babies.” The queen excused herself and left the room to feed her son.
“What are you laughing about?” Iphicles asked, catching the smirk that his brother had tried, but failed, to hide.
“Nothing,” Hercules replied with a broad grin. “It’s just that some things never change.”
The End
Disclaimer: Iolaus’ soul was not harmed during the writing of this story. Hades kept it safe and sound until it could be reincarnated.
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