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, all of two years old but tall and sturdy for his age, ran after the small blond who still managed to stay ahead of him in a game of chase. Iolaus turned to beckon to Hercules.
“Come on, Herc! Let’s hurry! Your mother won’t like it if I don’t get you home when I said I would.” Now almost five, Iolaus had long ago chosen friendship with Hercules over that with Iphicles. Even at such a young age, Iolaus natural instincts told him that Iphicles harbored feelings of jealousy and envy against Hercules. It broke Iolaus’ heart to watch Hercules try so hard to please Iphicles and win his love only to be rebuffed time after time. Hercules grinned as he caught up with Iolaus.
“Mother! Go home?”
“Yes, Herc. Go home. I said I’d have you back before dark and the sun’s already setting!”
Hercules caught the urgency in Iolaus’ voice.
“We go,” he said, “Hercules likes playing with Iolaus. Not make Mother angry.”
Iolaus ruffled Hercules’ mop of sun-bleached brown hair. Although as tall as Iolaus, and already larger, Hercules always let Iolaus lead. Iolaus still marveled at Hercules. He was an extraordinary child, so strong and agile. Already he showed signs of the valiant heart that would lead him in years to come. It didn’t bother Iolaus that the other village children made fun of him because of his friendship with Hercules. Already, he felt a connection with him that he felt with no other, not even his own mother, Erythia.
They got to the farmhouse just as the last rays of sunlight disappeared over the horizon. Alcmene was waiting on the porch, a small oil torch in her hand. Iolaus scanned her face for signs of anger and found none.
“Come inside, you two. Your supper’s waiting. Iolaus , your mother sent word for you to stay here tonight. Your father’s home.”
Iolaus cringed at the words Alcmene had spoken. Already, he had a hearty fear of General Skorous and tended to try to stay out of his way when he was home. Alcmene patted the blond gently on the back.
“It’s alright, Iolaus. You can stay here as long as you want.”
Iolaus smiled up at Alcmene, grateful to have found a safe haven and someone to care about him.
“Iolaus?” Alcmene added as they entered the house, “Take Hercules to the sink and help him wash up, will you?”
“Sure,” he answered, taking Hercules’ hand and leading him toward the basin in the sink.
Hercules pouted. “I not dirty.” Hold his hands up as proof.
“Oh yeah, big fella. Then what’s all that brown stuff on your fingers and your cheeks, even in your ears? We’re both dirty, so just take it like a man.”
Hercules stood stiffly upright, his full height making him at least two inches taller than Iolaus.
“Like a man. I can do that.”
Iolaus giggled as he washed Hercules’ face and hands.
“Yeah, big fella. Yeah, you can!”
Alcmene had prepared all Hercules’ favorite dishes and watched as he climbed up to the table.
“Where’s Iphicles, Alcmene?” Iolaus asked, for the first time noticing the absence of Hercules’ older brother. Hercules, who had already started digging into his supper, looked up. He saw the look of momentary distress in Alcmene’s eyes.
“Where’s Brother?”
Alcmene smiled gently at her youngest son.
“His grandparents came today. Iphicles is going to stay with them for awhile.”
“How long is awhile, Alcmene?” Iolaus asked, feeling the tense way Alcmene had answered.
“I don’t know, Iolaus. Hopefully, not too long.”
They went back to their meal, only Hercules eating with gusto. Sometimes, Iolaus thought ruefully, being two had its advantages.
As usual, when Iolaus stayed over, Hercules had gone to bed, leaving Alcmene to visit for awhile with Iolaus. She smiled at the small figure sitting beside her before the fire. For some reason she couldn’t understand and probably never would, she loved her “little warrior” as much as either of her own sons. She felt safe when he was in her house and she never worried for a moment when he and Hercules wandered beyond her sight on one of their adventures. She knew Iolaus would watch over her son and keep him safe. Iolaus was an “old soul”, mature beyond his years. She didn’t know why she called him her “little warrior”. It just seemed right. Somehow, she sensed he had the heart of a warrior.
“He’s not coming back, is he?” Iolaus finally asked.
Alcmene smiled sadly at Iolaus. Only five, yet she trusted him completely and knew she could tell him anything.
“I don’t know, Iolaus. I don’t think so.” A single tear ran down her cheek. Iolaus reached up and wiped it away.
“My father says things about you and Herc. He calls you names and says you’re not a fit mother. Is that why Iphicles had to leave?”
Alcmene shook her head.
“My little warrior. When did you become so wise?”
“I’ll be your son, Alcmene. I can’t replace Iphicles but I won’t leave, I promise.”
Alcmene put an arm around Iolaus, pulling him close.
“You are my son, not by birth but by choice. It’s a comfort knowing I still have you and Hercules.”
Later, Iolaus lay trying to sleep in the bed he shared with Hercules. He had decided to ask for a separate bed. Hercules liked to sprawl and Iolaus usually spent the biggest part of the night dodging arms and legs. He usually had the bruises to prove it the next morning.
Tonight, though, Hercules was quiet and still. Iolaus knew he wasn’t asleep. Hercules always waited for him to come to bed so they could talk before Hercules finally settled down for the night. Hercules may be only two, but his mind worked on a higher plane. So much so that Iolaus was always perfectly honest with him.
“Iolaus, was I bad?” There was a hint of pain in the question.
Iolaus turned toward Hercules, seeing the tears in the younger boy’s eyes. He reached out and touched his cheek.
“No, Herc. You were not bad. Why?”
“Because,” Hercules sniffled. “Iphicles’ grandparents don’t like me. They call me names and they call Mother names and say she’s not fit to raise Brother. It’s all my fault!”
“Come here, Herc.” Iolaus opened his arms to let Hercules snuggle close to him. Hercules found comfort in the small, sturdy frame of his friend. Iolaus found comfort in the fact that Hercules trusted him to have the right answers.
“Listen to me, Herc. What happened today had nothing to do with who you are. It has to do with stupid people with stupid ideas acting stupid. Do you understand?”
“I guess. I’m not stupid, am I?”
“No... No, my friend. Far from it. Would you ever take a child from his mother?”
“No.”
“Would you ever call an innocent child names, or his mother?”
“No.”
“Then you’re not stupid. So there.”
Hercules snuggled closer to Iolaus.
“Will Brother be back?”
Iolaus hesitated. Finally, with a catch in his throat, he told Hercules the truth.
“Maybe, but not for awhile. But he’s your brother. Nothing can change that.”
Hercules put his thumb in his mouth, something he’d not done for a long time. Slowly, he drifted off to sleep, cradled in Iolaus’ small but protective arms. Iolaus crooned to the sleeping boy, really just a baby.
“I’ll never leave you, Herc. If Iphicles can, his loss. I never will. Sleep well, my friend.”
Closing his eyes, Iolaus drifted off to join Hercules in heroic battles and legendary journeys.
finis
Melinda is not online at this time, but if you would like to give her feedback on this story, email it to me, Quiet Wolf, and I will pass it on to her.
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