Old Friends

This story received an Iolausian Library 2001 Gold Apple Award for Outstanding Story

This story is not intended to violate any copyrights held by MCA, Universal Studios, or Renaissance Pictures concerning Hercules: The Legendary Journeys. This story is for fun and no money was made from it.

Hercules stood before the fireplace, watching the flames spark and dance. He studied the flames intently, seeing so much there. It was almost over. His heart ached already with the loss.

He ran his hand gently across the mantelpiece, admiring the simple beauty of the sturdy structure. So much like the man who had helped him build it all those years ago. The man who had been, and still was, his family, his center, his brother by choice. He bent and picked up the poker lying on the hearth and stoked the fire, adding a fresh log. The room was warm, but the man asleep in the bed across the room was frail now and needed the extra warmth.

So many years ago. He sighed when he thought about how long it had been, really. How it was, perhaps, the saddest day of his life when Iolaus had come to him and told him it was time that he go back to Thebes to take up his former occupation of blacksmith.

While hearing Iolaus say the words hadn’t come as a surprise, it had been a shock. But, in hindsight, he had seen it coming for a long time. He remembered that, years before Iolaus had decided to go home, it had become obvious to them both that Hercules was no longer aging and Iolaus was.

So Iolaus had returned to Thebes and opened his forge again. Hercules had helped him with the repairs needed from the years of neglect. They had rebuilt the small cottage attached to the forge, adding a second bedroom for Hercules when he came home, and the fireplace. Iolaus explained that Ania had always wanted a fireplace, so they worked long and hard on it, making it not only functional but beautiful in her memory.

Iolaus had missed his travels with Hercules desperately, but he knew that physically, he was more of a liability than an asset and he refused to put Hercules at risk. He knew that, in battle, Hercules would be torn between fighting and keeping him safe.

Hercules, who had made rare trips home since his mother, Alcmene, had died, began to look forward once again to going back to Thebes. He no longer felt that his mother’s house was his home. There were too many memories there, both good and bad. He always checked the house when he went back but there was no need, really. Iolaus had taken to making regular trips to the only real home he had known as a child. He kept the house up and tended Alcmene’s garden. He had a natural green thumb and the gardens around the house once again thrived. He’d even planted flowers on and around Alcmene’s grave. A small evergreen tree stood proudly beside the marker Hercules had placed there, years before.

But, as always, when his visit to the house and his mother’s grave was over, he headed home to the cottage that belonged to his best friend. His bedroom there was his haven, the one place he could truly call his own.

Iolaus had told him that it was a sanctuary, only meant for him. It would always be his private place, with the comforting presence of Iolaus in the next room or the forge.

So, all that Hercules needed or wanted centered in that room in the house of the one person who truly knew him. It became his haven, a place to heal his wounds, both physical and emotional. A place of good cheer and laughter. It was home.

A sound from the bed brought Hercules back to the present, back to this place where he was yet to face his greatest challenge. The voice called to him, weakly.

“Hercules?”

Hercules went to the bed and sat down in the chair next to it, pulling it closer so Iolaus could see him.

“I’m here, my friend. I’m not going anywhere.”

Iolaus smiled and answered, his voice stronger.

“I know. I just woke up and didn’t see you. I guess I was just uneasy.”

Hercules took Iolaus’ hand in his own.

“I know. I’m sorry. I just wanted to build the fire up a little. Are you warm enough?”

“Yes, thanks. Could I have some water? I’m really thirsty.”

Hercules reached for the pitcher beside the bed and poured Iolaus a glass of water. He watched as Iolaus slowly pulled himself up and reached for the glass. He was weak but Hercules refused to take away the dignity Iolaus had always held so dear. He let Iolaus help himself, mightily resisting the urge to help him. Lying back, Iolaus looked at Hercules, blue eyes meeting blue eyes.

“I’m tired, Herc. I’m ready to go.”

“I know, my brother. I’ve dreaded this day since the moment we met. I will miss you.”

“I’ll miss you, too. We’ve had a good life. We’ve fought good and right battles, most of the dreams we had as children came true. We’ve lost a lot, but we’ve gained a lot and I believe we made a difference. I have no regrets. I’ve made peace with everything I’ve done in my life.”

Hercules brushed a stray lock of the still golden hair from Iolaus’ brow.

“Do you remember what Zarathustra said when he came to take you into the Light, Iolaus?”

Iolaus let his thoughts go back to a time he tried for a long, long time to forget.

“Yes,” he answered finally. “That the impulse to create does have a name. Is that what you mean?”

“Yes,” Hercules answered, his voice cracking slightly. He swallowed hard, steadying himself, willing himself to continue. “I know now that that name is love. I’ve never said those words to you, as you have to me. But I do love you, Iolaus. You are and always will be my family, my center, the one who has guided me through the good and the bad and the one who preserved my sanity. I’m not sure I can do this without you, but in honor of all we’ve been through together and of all you’ve given me, I will try, my friend. I swear to you, I will try.”

Iolaus reached out, taking Hercules’ hand in his own. He smiled faintly, well aware that they were saying their goodbyes.

“Then, in the name of all we were, promise me you’ll let me go this time. My life has been long and full. I’ve been blessed with good friends and many loves. But my time here is over. I’m tired. I need to rest now. You’re stronger than you know, Hercules. I’ll always be with you, in your heart. If you need me, look there. I will always be there.”

Hercules gripped Iolaus’ hand, tears rolling freely down his cheeks.

Iolaus returned the grip, drawing in a breath to continue.

“An you will always be in my heart, Hercules. You’ve always been my guiding star, the one who gave my life meaning and direction. Eternity cannot take away what you’ve given me. I will always hold you in my heart.”

It took a few moments for Hercules to trust himself to speak. What he said surprised even him.

“It’s a beautiful night out, Iolaus. Would you like to see the stars, feel the night breeze?”

Iolaus smiled broadly. How he longed to leave this life out in the open, under the stars.

“I’d like that. I’d like to sleep on the ground, smell the earth. Just like when we were young, Herc.”

Hercules decided suddenly that this was the way it should be. Carefully, he picked up his best friend, cradling the frail body close to his own. He wrapped him in a blanket from the bed and carried him out into the yard, sitting him against the ancient oak tree that stood proudly in its center.

Iolaus watched as Hercules went about building a fire. Then Hercules disappeared into the house, emerging with a small wine skin and two cups. He sat down beside Iolaus and poured a cup of wine, handing it to him. Then he poured himself the second cup. Laying the wineskin aside, he raised his cup in salute.

“To old friends.”

Iolaus raised his cup in equal salute.

“To old friends,” he repeated. And they drank, Hercules putting a protective arm around Iolaus. The hunter leaned against the warmth of his heart’s brother, listening to the strong, steady beating of Hercules’ heart against his cheek.

Iolaus died quietly, cradled in the arms of his best friend. Hercules sat holding him until the moon was high overhead, rocking him gently.

“Hercules!” Hercules looked up to see the aristocratic features of Michael, Guardian of the Light.

“Michael. He’s gone. Have you come to judge him a second time, as you once promised?”

Michael stepped forward, touching the warrior’s body. Looking down, Hercules saw that he no longer held the body of an aged man but the body of Iolaus as he was when he was young and strong.

“There is no need, Hercules. Iolaus has proven himself time and time again to be worthy of his place in the Light. He will find peace there, I promise.”

Michael made a gesture toward Iolaus’ body.

“This is for you, Hercules. You, too, are a servant of the Light and you have a place waiting for you when you decide to lay down your yoke of immortality. Iolaus wanted your last memory of him to be as he was when you fought, back to back. It was the least I could do for you both.”

As he had so long ago, Hercules looked at Michael and said, simply, “Thank you” as he gently caressed the golden hair of his golden hunter.

Epilogue

Immortality was a long and sometimes arduous journey, sometimes filled with the greatest of joys and triumphs, sometimes with the greatest of sorrows and failures. But, always, lonely. He had had many friends and lovers, many wives and children in the course of his long, endless life. But always there was that place in his heart and by his side that was empty in a way that could not be filled. Only one could fill that void, the one he longed to be with again.

For all his long, full life one thing had eluded him, one thing that only the one who had caused the void could bring him. Peace.

It was dawn. The turn of a new century. The start of the new millennium when he made his decision. The longing to be complete again was becoming more than he could bear. The world was so different now. He no longer made a difference and he no longer had the heart to try. He was tired of the struggle, he was tired of fighting alone.

He moved to the open window and looked out at the street below, the cars rushing by , the noise, the people who were afraid to care anymore. Sighing, he turned his eyes toward the sky, somehow knowing that was where the one he sought dwelled.

“Michael, I call on you to keep your promise to me. I seek peace. Please, if you hear me, answer. I am tired and long to come home.”

There was silence then, but an unnatural silence as the man waited, hoping. Then there was a burst of light. A golden energy appeared at his side. A hand touched his shoulder, a familiar hand who’s touch he thought he would never feel again.

“I’ve come, Hercules. I’ve been waiting for you.”

Hercules turned toward the man standing next to him, tears once again rolling freely down his face.

“Iolaus, I’m glad you’re the one who’s come. I’m ready. I’ve missed you.”

Iolaus smiled that brilliant smile of his, his eyes lighting with a contented glow.

“To Old Friends, Herc. And new adventures.”

“To Old Friends and having you at my side again. Whatever awaits me, I go willingly. I trust you, and know it will be glorious.”

Old Friends together again. Guardians and warriors once more

Note: Melinda is not online at this time, but if you would like to give her feedback on this story, email Quiet Wolf, and I will pass it along to her.

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