Author's Note: This story answers the October 2002 List Challenge, to write a hurt/comfort story that includes the following items:
1. Drum
2. A soft blanket
3. A trip to the healers
4. Haggis
As always, I don't claim ownership of any of the characters below, and I am definitely not profiting from this little tale.
Hercules stood on the hill looking down into the valley below, the setting sun casting a rosy hue over the peaceful town. He’d pushed himself hard that day, but it had been worth it. There was always an air of comfort to coming home, but Thebes just seemed extra welcoming bathed in the final brilliance of Apollo’s descending sun. The demigod took a deep breath in, and with the lightness in his heart giving strength to his tired muscles, he began to lope down the hill, his journey at an end.
He went straight to his mother’s house, pausing outside the door to inhale the sweet scent of her roses drifting from the garden she so diligently tended. Hercules grinned, growing excited as he imagined his mother’s reaction to seeing him. His visits had unfortunately grown infrequent, and he loved being able to surprise her now and then. Eagerly, he pushed the door open and let himself inside the house. Alcmene was stirring something over the fire, and as she looked up and identified her visitor, her eyes grew wide and she dropped her spoon, immediately rushing to greet her son. But her other visitor beat her to it. Hercules found himself almost knocked over as the small woman threw herself into his arms.
“Hercules, thank the gods you’re home!”
The demigod embraced the girl, his heart freezing in fear as she began to sob.
“What is it?” he demanded in a tight voice, looking to his mother. “What’s happened?”
“Come in, dear,” Alcmene said calmly, kissing her son on the cheek and gently disengaging him from the distraught woman. Putting an arm around the girl, she led her over to the table, with Hercules close behind them. “I’m glad you’re home. Maybe you can help me convince Ania that there’s nothing to worry about.”
“Why?” the demigod asked, sitting down at the table next to the brunette. He relaxed a bit, since his mother was far from hysterical. But his anxiety level refused to come down. “Where is Iolaus?”
“He went hunting,” Ania told him, managing to get herself under control. “He promised me that he was only going to be gone for three days, but its already been five.”
“I’ve tried to tell her that while Iolaus is hunting, he’s likely to forget he even has a wife,” Alcmene interjected, setting three mugs of warm cider down on the table.
Hercules absently agreed with her, but he noticed all too well that despite all her reassurances, there was worry in her eyes. They both knew that no matter how much Iolaus enjoyed the hunt and no matter how focused he might become, it wasn’t enough to take his lovesick mind away from his beautiful wife. And she obviously knew it too, as she shook her head sadly at their words as her eyes filled with tears once again.
“Something’s happened to him. I just know it,” she whispered. Ania looked up at the one person who could help, her dark eyes begging him to believe her. “Please, Hercules, you have to go after him.”
“All right,” he promised quickly, lest she start sobbing again. “I’ll leave at first light.”
Ania was still quite worried and upset, but she sagged in relief against the demigod. If anyone could find her beloved husband, it would be the great Hercules. And she knew that he wouldn’t rest until he’d returned Iolaus home safe and sound, for he loved the irrepressible hunter every bit as much as she did.
Alcmene insisted that Ania spend the night with them, since darkness had rapidly fallen over the land. She fussed over the girl, doing her best to make her comfortable and trying to take her mind off her missing husband. When she finally gave in to Morpheus’ call and fell into an exhausted slumber, Alcmene went to her son, seeing him staring sightlessly out into the black night.
“You can’t track him in the dark,” she reminded him softly, reaching up a hand to brush his hair back from his face. Hercules caught her hand in his, squeezing it gently.
“I know, Mother,” he sighed. “But I can’t stop thinking about Iolaus. What if Ania’s right, and something did happen? What if he’s hurt? I can’t stand the thought of him lying all alone out there all night, needing help.”
“I’m worried about him, too,” Alcmene murmured. “But the simple fact is that you’ll never find his trail in the dark. You could end up covering his tracks, or getting hurt yourself. Then where will you be?”
“You’re right, as always.” Hercules sighed again. “I just hate this waiting and not being able to do anything. Not knowing if he’s all right, or...”
“Why don’t you try and get some sleep?” she suggested. “You’ve had a long journey, and you should rest. Iolaus may need your strength, when you find him.”
The demigod obediently bid his mother goodnight and retired to his room, but he didn’t sleep. Instead, he spent a long, endless night stretched across his bed, wondering what had happened to his friend and trying not to envision the worst. Finally, when the shadows began dimming from black to grey, he rose and dressed. Alcmene was already up and putting together a pack of supplies and food for him.
“Try not to worry, Ania,” Hercules advised, glancing at the drawn, silent face of the girl as he sat to pull on his boots. “Iolaus probably just got on the trail of something, lost track of time, and ended up farther than he meant to.” His words were not consoling her, anymore than he was consoling himself. The demigod stood up, running a hand through his hair. “Which direction did he take?”
“East,” she replied. “I walked with him to the edge of the forest.”
“Thank you, Mother.” Hercules took the pack Alcmene offered, smiling fondly at her as he kissed her goodbye. He pulled Ania into his arms for a hug, leaning down to whisper into her ear. “I’ll find him. I promise.”
Of that, she had no doubts. But would Hercules find her husband dead or alive? Ania bit her lip nervously, trying not to dwell on the negative. Her husband was strong, and he never gave up. If something had happened, there was a good chance he was still alive. And if he was, then Hercules would find him. She just needed to have faith.
The demigod left the house, striding up the path purposefully. Once he reached the road, he turned back to wave at the two women watching him from the door, then continued on his way. He passed through Thebes quickly, the town just beginning to stir. The sun was up by the time he reached the spot where Iolaus had entered the woods, and Hercules walked into the cool forest, grateful for the illumination which would, he hoped, help him track down his missing friend.
It was a task that proved to be much more difficult than he’d anticipated. Iolaus was a consummate hunter and skilled woodsman, and never left much of a trail to begin with. But whatever signs he might have left had been erased by a storm that had passed over the area two nights prior. Pounding rains had washed any footprints away, and the winds had tossed the bushes wildly, eliminating any evidence that Iolaus had passed through them. For a moment Hercules was discouraged, but then he strengthened his resolve and realized that he just needed to use what he knew about his friend to find him.
After all, he’d grown up chasing through these woods with Iolaus. As boys, they’d roamed the forests all around Thebes, and the young demigod had eagerly listened to all his friend had to teach him. The eastern woods were dense at first, but opened up after a few miles into a more mountainous region, covered by an ancient forest. It was excellent stag country, and Hercules had once known it well. He only hoped that not a lot had changed over the years.
He pushed his way through the underbrush, cursing it as it slowed him down. But finally he made his way through it, breaking out into the older part of the forest. The trees were tall and towering, blocking out the sun and hindering the growth of anything on the ground. It helped in traveling, but didn’t leave much to aid in his search for Iolaus. Hercules paused, trying to remember hunting the area with his friend years ago, hoping to come up with an educated guess as to which direction to take. He hit upon a likely route the hunter could have taken, and began following it, walking quickly, but scanning the area with sharp eyes for any signs of his friend, calling out his name every so often.
Mid-afternoon, he came upon the remains of a campsite. He couldn’t be absolutely sure, but instinctively, Hercules knew it was the work of Iolaus. But just as quickly as it had come, his elation over finding a sign of his friend faded. He may have camped there, but not for a couple of days. The site was abandoned, the remains of the fire indicating it had not recently burned. Hercules sat back on his heels after poking through the ashes and ran a hand wearily over his face.
“What’s happened to you, my friend?” he whispered to himself. If the forest around him knew, it was not spilling its secrets. The demigod rose and continued on, fervently hoping he was heading in the right direction. Several miles later, Hercules was about to turn around, retrace his steps and try another trail, but he began noticing the increased debris on the ground. Broken tree limbs, leaves and pine cones were strewn haphazardly over the woodland floor, indicating heavy storm damage. The demigod paused for a moment of thoughtful reflection. If Iolaus had been in the area when the storm had broken, he naturally would have sought shelter. Hercules was sure he remembered a large cave not far from the spot where he stood, just over the ridge. With a glance through the treetops at the sinking sun, he headed toward the cave.
Hercules groaned at the sight that greeted his eyes as he approached his destination. The storm had apparently triggered a rockslide, and a wall of stone filled the valley for quite a stretch, burying any caves that may have existed. He bit back a curse of frustration, and drew in several deep breaths. The demigod knew he was running out of daylight, and running out of time. In desperation, he closed his eyes and whispered a prayer. Not to any of the gods, but to the one person he could truly count on. The one that would hear his soul’s cry with his own.
“Iolaus, I need your help,” he whispered. “You have to give me sign. Show me where you are.”
After a moment, Hercules opened his eyes. Nothing had changed around him, save for the sun dipping farther down into the horizon. This time the demigod did curse. But he had little recourse but to abandon his search and try to pick it up in the morning. He turned to go back the way he’d come to find a suitable place to camp, but then something caught his eye. Hercules turned back toward the wall of stone, his sharp gaze desperately trying to detect a sign from his friend. He didn’t see anything, but he quickly approached the spot where he thought he’d seen a slight flutter. At first, nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. The demigod ran his hands over the rocks, disappointment flooding through him. But then the sun fell a little more, sending a fading, golden ray to wash over him, and the breeze lifted gently. In the beam of light, he saw it. A tiny scrap of purple fabric dancing in the soft wind.
Hercules snatched it up, his heart pounding like a drum in his ears. His initial jubilation at finding a sign of his missing partner immediately evaporated as he realized what his discovery meant. Iolaus was trapped under the mountain of stone. In a panic, the demigod began pulling the heavy rocks away. Any doubts he may have had were immediately dispelled as he uncovered his partner’s knife. Fear flooded through him, but he also felt a sliver of hope. His crafty friend had used his blade to poke a piece of his vest through his rocky prison, leaving the only signal he could. Which meant the hunter had survived the initial rockslide. But had he survived his subsequent entombment?
The demigod began heaving rocks from the pile, calling out his friend’s name as he did so. Periodically, he stopped to listen desperately for an answering response, hearing only his own labored breathing. Finally, after removing a large boulder with a hearty grunt, he called out for his partner and was rewarded with the welcoming reply.
“Herc?” The voice was faint, muffled, and tinged with uncertainty. Hoping that his rescue had come, but afraid he was having delusions.
“It’s me, Iolaus,” the demigod confirmed, almost sagging with relief. “Hang on, buddy. I’m getting you out of there.”
He worked feverishly, and after a few minutes he found himself looking into a pair of deep blue eyes. The tousled curls were layered with dust, but still shone in a halo of gold as the last, final rays of the setting sun illuminated them. And the familiar grin that greeted him was enough to melt his heart.
“Hey, Herc,” the hunter said hoarsely. “Pardon the mess, but I wasn’t expecting company.”
“Very cosy,” the demigod remarked wryly, peering down through the rocks. Miraculously, his partner had seemingly managed to land in a pocket among the boulders, the enormous rocks on all sides shielding him from the rest of the deadly onslaught. “But a bit cramped for my tastes. How about coming out of there?”
“I can’t.” The grin faded quickly. “My leg’s trapped.”
“Don’t worry,” the demigod was quick to reassure his friend. “I’ll get you loose.” He reached a hand into the small space to give his partner’s shoulder a comforting squeeze, frowning as he felt the cold chill to the hunter’s skin. Hurriedly, he began working at the landslide once more, pulling rocks aside, working his way toward freeing Iolaus. Dusk had settled over the land, reducing visibility, but Hercules knew when he had found the culprit holding his friend hostage. As he lifted the large, heavy stone, the hunter could not hold back a sharp cry as pain surged through his injured limb.
“Are you all right?” Hercules asked anxiously, scrambling around to face his partner.
“Yeah,” Iolaus gasped, a tremor in his voice. “It just hurt for a minute.”
“It’s going to hurt a lot more,” the demigod told him sympathetically, handing him a waterskin. “We’ve got to get you out of there.”
Iolaus clasped the waterskin in his shaking hands, gratefully taking a few sips. The dry, rasping soreness in his throat made him want to down the whole thing in one gulp, but he knew he’d only serve to make himself sick. He took one more drink, then passed the waterskin back to his friend.
“I’m ready,” he said determinedly, reaching out to the demigod and gritting his teeth in anticipation.
Hercules took his partner’s offered hand and reached down to wrap an arm around the hunter’s waist. As gently as he could, he lifted and pulled and Iolaus slid from his rocky prison with a groan of agony. The demigod’s heart sank as he saw a bit of bone, gleaming in the soft moonlight as it protruded grotesquely from his friend’s leg.
“Well,” Iolaus murmured, getting his first look at the injury he’d suspected he’d sustained. “That’s going to make the walk home a bit uncomfortable.”
“You’re not walking home,” Hercules snapped at his friend, in no mood to deal with his perpetual stubbornness and independence. “In the morning I’ll build a litter for you, and you are going to sit there and let me carry you and keep your mouth shut about it.”
“Morning?”the hunter asked, shrinking back a little at the unexpected outburst. “But, Ania...?”
“She’s worried about you,” the demigod sighed, running a hand through his hair. He hadn’t meant to sound so testy. It was just born of the fear he felt over his friend’s condition. “But she’s with my mother, and she’ll be fine. The moon will help with some light, but its not going to be enough to let us travel through the woods. And we need to take care of that leg, and get some food into you. You should rest a little and try to build up some strength for the journey.”
Iolaus nodded in resignation, knowing his partner was right. Though he probably would have tried, he knew he was in no shape to walk all the way back to Thebes and that Hercules was going to have to haul him back. The hunter realized that Ania had probably sent Hercules after him the minute he arrived at home, and on top of searching for him all day and moving a mountain of rock to free him, Iolaus couldn’t ask his friend to give up a well-deserved night’s rest to risk his neck blundering around in the dark woods. Although he hated to cause his wife any distress or worry, as she could be a bit delicate, the hunter knew his partner was also right on that count. Ania would be fine, especially if she were with Alcmene.
“Just stay here for a minute,” Hercules told him. “I’m going to head over to that stream that’s south of here and see if I can find somewhere to camp. I’ll be right back.”
The hunter obediently remained where he was, enjoying the night sounds and the moonlit sky and just generally relieved to be out of his cramped tomb. He took several deep, calming breaths, staying very still in an effort to dull the blinding pain in his leg that the movement had caused. It began to slowly fade into a manageable throbbing ache, but then Hercules returned to take him to the campsite he’d set up.
Iolaus didn’t even attempt to fight it when the demigod gathered him up in his arms and lifted him as if he were a child. He was too focused on staying conscious and stopping the screams that hovered in his throat. The pain was encompassing, radiating through him in great, white-hot waves. Iolaus turned his head against his partner’s shoulder, pressing his face into the softness of his friend’s shirt with a small moan.
“We’re almost there,” Hercules reassured him, feeling the hunter’s hand on his other shoulder, squeezing it with a crushing grip. His heart ached for his friend’s suffering, knowing he was adding to it, even if he was only doing what had to be done. And knowing that the pain was far from over, for he was going to have to inflict a great deal more in treating that terrible injury. But, it had waited this long, and the demigod determined it could wait a little bit longer. As he approached the camp he’d hastily built, Hercules decided his first order of business would be to make his partner comfortable and get him warm.
A fire was already burning, for the chill of his friend’s body had concerned him. Iolaus had apparently grown numb to it during his imprisonment, but as Hercules had carried him tightly against his chest, some of his warmth had seeped into the hunter’s cold skin, and he began to shiver uncontrollably. The demigod gently laid him onto the soft blanket he’d spread next to the fire, and pulled another blanket out of the pack his mother had given him, tucking it around his friend securely. He dumped the rest of the pack onto the ground, pawing through the contents and arranging them quickly before folding up the carry sack and sliding it under his partner’s head and shoulders, raising him up a bit.
Hercules borrowed his friend’s knife, using it to deftly cut and notch a few stout sticks, digging a hole on either side of the fire and arranging them so that he was able to hang a small pot of water over the flames. Thankfully, his mother had packed him an assortment of herbs, so when the water was boiling, the demigod had a parcel of vervain all ready to stir in. And, knowing all too well the hunter’s distaste of the bitter medicine, the wise Alcmene had also included a clay jar of honey. Hercules smiled as he added a bit of the golden liquid to the mug in his hands, thinking that his mother and Iolaus were the only two people in the world that would count honey as “the bare essentials”.
It hadn’t been much of a strain for one with the strength of the gods to tote the heavy pack through his woodland trek, but Hercules decided that the effort had all been worth it when Iolaus gave him a weak grin as he sipped the sweet brew. His best friend was in rocky shape, but at least he had all the supplies and comforts at hand to care for him. Bandages, blankets, medicine, food, utensils, and even a fishing line, although he didn’t plan on hanging around long enough to need it. While he waited for the vervain to take the edge off the pain, Hercules heated another pot of water and brought it to his friend with a strip of one of the cloth bandages so that he could at least rinse off some of the dust and dirt showered over him during the rockslide. Iolaus propped himself up on his elbow to swab at his face and arms and chest, far from clean but feeling much less gritty. The warm water drove off the last remnants of cold that the fire and the blankets and the hot tea had mostly alleviated, and the hunter lay back down with a sigh of almost contentment as he watched his partner do his best to stall the inevitable.
Hercules made several trips into the forest, bringing back armfuls of wood for the fire, until he had a huge stack stockpiled. He went to the stream and drew up all the water he could. The demigod stirred up the fire, adding sticks with meticulous concentration and focused attention in order to build it up just so. But when he turned to rearrange the supplies for the third time, the amused hunter knew he was going to have to get things started.
“Herc, I’m ready.”
The demigod looked up, startled by the quiet, but confident voice of his friend. Realizing he could put off the grisly task no longer, he nodded, gathered up what he needed, and knelt down at his partner’s feet. He pulled the blanket up over the injured leg, wincing at the bone jutting up through the tender flesh. Hercules’ eased the hunter’s boot off, and used his knife to cut a slit along his pants. He faltered, finding that the material was stuck to the wound, cemented with dried blood.
“Hercules.” Iolaus sensed his friend’s hesitation, and he pulled himself up to a sitting position. “Hercules, look at me.”
Not wanting his partner to see the horror in his eyes, the demigod refused. But when the hunter repeated his request, Hercules could not deny him. He lifted eyes glinting with tears of worry, guilt, and regret up to meet the glowing intensity of his friend’s own gaze.
“It’s ok, Herc,” Iolaus told him. “I know you have to do this. And you *can* do it. Don’t think about me. Don’t worry about hurting me. Just block me out of your mind all together and do what needs to be done. I’ll be all right. Just go ahead, and don’t think about it.”
Like he would ever be able to do that, block out his friend’s suffering. But Hercules knew that he needed to treat the hunter’s injury, cause him pain to ultimately end his pain. And he knew he’d never get through this ordeal if he kept dwelling on the agony he was inflicting on his partner. Taking a deep breath, the demigod did his best to clear his head and focus his concentration on his task, pushing everything else into the back of his mind.
Hercules soaked a few bandages in water, using them to try and soften the crust of blood around the wound so that he could pull the stuck material away. It finally came loose, and he exposed the wound, getting his first real look at it, although he wished he had more than the moon and the fire to go by. He soaked some clean bandages in a bowl of warm water and crushed yarrow leaves and washed the injury thoroughly, until he was sure he had gotten every last speck of dirt. The demigod then began the process of trying to manipulate the broken bone back into place. It was not an easy task, given the amount of time that had passed since the injury had first occurred. But he worked patiently and steadily, and finally felt confident that he had managed to align the two shattered ends. Hercules tied three straight sticks tightly to his friend’s leg, to keep it straight and still in order to heal, but he was careful to leave the wound open and accessible. He washed it once more, then took the knife from where he’d placed it in the fire and pressed it against the wound, cauterizing it and sealing it. Covering it with more crushed yarrow leaves, he bandaged it quickly.
His work finished, Hercules let out a long, shaky breath and allowed himself to lose his intense focus that blinded him to all but his task. Immediately, the demigod crawled around to his friend’s head and pulled the hunter into his lap, hugging him tightly. Tears began to drop from his own eyes as Iolaus slumped against his chest with a choked sob.
“I know, buddy,” he whispered helplessly, rocking his partner gently in his arms. “But it’s all over now. I’m right here with you. You’ll be all right, I promise.”
Hercules held his friend until the worst of the agonizing pain his ministrations caused began to subside. And then he only let go long enough to brew up another mug of the vervain tea. When it was ready, the demigod once again eased Iolaus into his lap and coaxed the medicine into him, little by little until he had taken it all. But Hercules knew that the herb would only help to take the edge off the pain, and his heart ached with regret that he couldn’t do more to help his friend.
“How bad is it?” he asked quietly, thinking in the back of his mind that if his partner was suffering unbearably, he had the option of knocking him out.
“Bad,” Iolaus admitted with a quavery sigh. But then he looked up at his friend and smiled with a hint of his usual sunny charm. “So why don’t you entertain me? Take my mind off it?”
“And how do you propose I do that?” Hercules demanded, grinning in spite of himself.
“Tell me a story,” the hunter murmured, shifting slightly to make himself more comfortable. “Tell me all about the great Hercules’ latest adventure. And try not to suck every last ounce of excitement from it, either.”
So the demigod began talking, telling his friend all about his quest to get the eternal torch to help the frozen Prometheus and return the gift of fire to the land. And while he tried to make his tale as exciting as his humble nature would allow, he felt the tenseness leave the hunter’s body as he relaxed into sleep. Hercules breathed a sigh of relief, grateful that his partner was able to rest and enjoy a short respite from his pain. But the demigod did not choose to rest himself, preferring to stay on alert in case Iolaus awoke and needed anything, and to monitor the precious fire burning beside them, which the world had very recently learned not to take for granted, courtesy of his spiteful stepmother.
Iolaus slept through most of the night, but when he awoke in the morning he was still in a good bit of pain. He wouldn’t admit to it, but Hercules could see it clouding the normally bright blue eyes.
“Are you up for the trip home?” the demigod asked him in concern. “I’m almost done with the litter, but we can definitely stay here awhile if you think the journey will be too hard.”
The hunter glanced over at the structure that was nearly complete. Obviously, Hercules had been busy during the night. Iolaus frowned reproachfully at his friend, who looked tired and worried and more than a little haggard. But he also had the look of determination; a look that clearly stated his intentions to be back in Thebes well before nightfall and absolutely nothing was going to change his mind.
“I can make it,” Iolaus finally replied, deciding it wasn’t worth wasting his breath lecturing his partner. He knew that the trip was going to be pure Tartarus, and he certainly was not looking forward to the journey. But, he desperately wanted to go home, where it was warm and comfortable and he could be with his beautiful wife and put an end to the fears he knew she would be having, fears that he was dead.
“I’ll give you as smooth a ride as I can,” Hercules promised, stirring up the flagging fire and hanging the small pot over the blaze. “But how about something to eat first? Do you think you can handle a little food?”
“Maybe a little,” the hunter answered. He wasn’t hungry, but it had been a long time since his last meal and he knew he needed to start building his strength back up.
“Well,” the demigod said, ducking his head to hide his grin as he rummaged through the supplies. “I have some haggis here.”
“She DIDN’T!” Iolaus yelped in feigned horror.
“I think Mother was trying to distract Ania. Stop her from worrying herself sick about you. But I could have thought of a few other suggestions that didn’t involve her cooking...”
“And here I always thought Alcmene loved you,” the hunter declared piteously.
“Maybe that was my punishment for staying away too long,” Hercules chuckled. He pulled out a parcel of chopped vegetables and dried meat and added it to the water over the fire. “But, since I just went through all of the trouble to save your sorry hide, you can understand why I’d be reluctant to lose you to death-by-haggis. So I think we’ll just stick to the basics, just to be safe.”
“It’s an old family recipe,” Iolaus explained. “And the really scary thing is, you can’t blame it on Ania’s cooking. That’s actually how its supposed to taste.”
“That is a scary thought,” the demigod agreed. “But not as scary as the thought of having to eat the leftovers. Once was enough. I think I’d rather face Anteus again.”
“I’ll bet he wasn’t that bad. He just seemed tough because you had to tackle him all alone, without your able-bodied partner backing you up,” the hunter joked.
“Actually, I wasn’t alone,” Hercules confessed. “And the reason I finally did defeat Anteus was because I had a partner watching my back.”
“Oh?” Iolaus looked away, certain that the crushing heartbreak that swelled up inside of him was reflected in his eyes. Even though they no longer traveled together like they used to, the demigod and the hunter had still considered themselves partners. It was a bond that had forged itself between them a long time ago. But now, it appeared that his greatest fear and heaviest sorrow had been realized. Hercules had replaced him. Iolaus swallowed hard and prayed that his voice would be steady. “Who is this new partner of yours?”
“Deianeira.”
“Deianeira?” The hunter saw a glimmer of hope through the black cloud that had descended over him.
“Deianeira,” Hercules repeated with a dreamy smile. “She insisted on coming with me to see Prometheus, and to retrieve the torch. I didn’t want her to come, but she wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. One thing led to another, and we ended up falling in love.”
“That’s great, Herc,” Iolaus enthused, vastly relieved. “Wonderful in fact. Tell me more. What’s she like?”
“Well, she’s just as stubborn as you are,” the demigod teased. “And she’s also every bit as brave. Very strong and independent, but she’s also very gentle and compassionate. And smart, and fun, and...”
“Pretty?” the hunter prompted.
“She’s beautiful, Iolaus,” Hercules murmured rapturously. “The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
“I’m happy for you, Herc,” Iolaus said quietly, but with conviction. “She sounds great. I can’t wait to meet her.”
“You will, soon.” The demigod removed the pot from the fire and stirred the contents carefully. “She’s getting her affairs in order, and then she’s coming here to Thebes.”
“Affairs?”
“We spent some time together after we took care of Prometheus,” Hercules revealed. “You were right, Iolaus. You told me that one day I would meet a woman who I would love like no other. A woman I would want to spend the rest of my life with.”
“Are you trying to tell me..?”
“I asked her to marry me, and thank the fates, she said ‘yes’!”
“Hercules, that is incredible!” Iolaus cried, ignoring the pain shooting through his injured leg as he pushed himself up to a sitting position. “I can’t believe it. You’re getting married! And you’re going to live here, in Thebes?”
“We are,” the demigod confirmed, moving forward into his friend’s congratulatory embrace, hugging him back tightly.
“Did you tell Alcmene?”
“Not yet.” Hercules moved away and picked up the pot he’d set down, resuming stirring. He couldn’t help noticing how hot his friend had been when he’d hugged him, new worry blotting out the joy of his impending nuptials. “I’m counting on you to help me break it to her.”
“She’ll be thrilled,” Iolaus promised, settling back down. “Especially since you’ll be so close by so she’ll have lots of chances to spoil her grandchildren. And, I’m thrilled, too. This is just fantastic, Herc. If we weren’t out in the middle of the woods, I’d say we should celebrate at the inn with a bottle of wine.”
“Here, try some of this,” the demigod told him, handing him the pot of improvised stew. “And then we can get out of here and celebrate with a trip to the healer.”
“Hope Deianeira knows what kind of party animal she’s getting saddled with,” the hunter jibbed, taking up a spoonful of the weak broth. He really tried to eat it, but his stomach felt queasy, so after a few bites he set the pot down and watched Hercules finish the litter. When he was finished, the demigod quickly broke down their campsite, packed up their supplies and doused the fire.
“Ready?”
“Yeah,” Iolaus replied, taking a deep breath and trying to steel himself for the agony ahead. “Let’s do it.” He grit his teeth as Hercules lifted him and quickly transferred him to the litter, which he’d lined with one of the blankets. Closing his eyes and biting back any verbal expression of the pain ripping through him, the hunter held himself rigidly, letting his partner settle him in for the ride as he waited for the throbbing waves to cease.
Hercules gave him a few minutes, then he grasped the handles of the litter and set off, walking quickly but carefully. He’d taken great pains during construction to make the litter sturdy and strong to keep his friend’s leg stabilized. But invariably, in the hilly, wooded terrain, it was impossible for even a demigod to completely avoid jarring his passenger. Iolaus took the bumps with a stifled groan and a faint smile, encouraging his partner to keep going. Hercules pressed on, not stopping for more than a moment or two until early afternoon. And then the break was more for his partner’s benefit then his own.
“How are you doing?” he asked, after setting the litter down and going around to take in his friend’s drawn, pallored face.
“I’m ok,” Iolaus lied. “How about you?”
“I’m fine,” the demigod replied with mild amusement. “I just thought we’d stop and take a break for a few minutes. Are you hungry?”
He wasn’t, but he gratefully accepted the waterskin that Hercules refilled at the nearby spring, gulping the fresh, cold water thirstily. The demigod filled his own, then wrung a strip of cloth out in the cold water and handed it to his friend. Iolaus wiped his face and neck off, wondering why he ever thought that his keenly observant partner wouldn’t notice that he’d developed a fever.
“It won’t be much longer,” Hercules pointed out, giving his friend’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “We’re over halfway there, and the rough part’s behind us. The rest will be a breeze.”
True to his word, the remainder of the journey was easier and a lot smoother. Once they had gotten out of the deep woods, there were less obstacles to worry about and Hercules was able to quicken his pace. Iolaus didn’t want Ania to have to see the demigod coming up the path hauling the litter behind him, so when they reached the border of Thebes, they decided to go straight to the hunter’s house instead of Alcmene’s. The demigod carried his friend inside and got him settled, then dashed to his mother’s home. Ania and Alcmene both came running out to meet him, obviously waiting and watching for his arrival. Hercules gave them a brief overview of Iolaus’ condition, and then he accompanied Ania home while his mother went for the healer.
During the short walk, Hercules kept up a steady stream of chatter, trying to prepare the girl for the state her husband was in, while at the same time, trying to reassure her that he would be all right. The demigod had envisioned a scene of hysteria when Ania flew into her bedroom to see Iolaus, but the girl surprised him. She shed a few tears at first, hugging him tightly, overjoyed that he was alive and home safely. But she only allowed the sweet reunion to last a few minutes. Then she was bustling about the house, gathering up supplies and giving orders to the demigod, who was stunned by her sudden efficiency. By the time Alcmene arrived with the healer, Ania had lit up the room with candles and had a table laid out with clean bandages and various medical necessities. A kettle of water was heating over the fire, and she stood calmly by her husband’s bedside, only her liquid eyes giving away her worry.
As the healer began to undo the bandages on the hunter’s leg, Hercules slipped out of the room. He did not want to be reminded of what he’d had to do to his friend, out in the cold, lonely woods. Certainly, he had no desire to relive it. So he paced out in the front room, straining to hear the quiet voices coming from the bedroom, until finally the door opened and the healer emerged.
“How is he?” the demigod demanded.
“I’m sure its not news to you that infection has set in,” the old man told the hero. “Not surprising, giving the conditions he was in. But, he’s young and he’s strong, and he has a good chance of fighting it off. I left some herbs that should help with Alcmene, and I’ll be back in the morning. We’ll see how he’s doing then.”
“Wait.” Hercules reached out and took the healer’s arm, restraining him as he tried to leave. “There’s something you aren’t telling me. What is it?”
“The infection is serious, but as I said, there’s a good chance he can survive that,” the healer explained, after a long moment of hesitation. “I’m more worried about the injury to his bone. How long was he trapped with that fracture until you reset it?”
“He wasn’t sure how long he was buried in the rocks,” the demigod replied, his throat going dry. “But it was probably two or three days.”
“I was afraid of that,” the old man said gravely. “You did a good job maneuvering the bone back into place, Hercules, but it may not have been in time. I’ve seen broken bones refuse to heal properly after just a few hours delay in treatment.”
“What are you saying?” Hercules whispered, knowing all too well what the healer was getting at.
“He may never have use of that leg again. Eventually, it may heal enough so that it will bear some weight, but frankly I’d be surprised if Iolaus was ever able to walk again without the use of a crutch. I’m sorry, Hercules.”
The demigod nodded absently as the old man patted him on the back and left the house. He was in shock, trying to absorb what he’d just been told. Hercules simply could not imagine his exuberant, energetic, whirlwind of a friend reduced to hobbling around on a crutch for the rest of his life. Iolaus was a hunter, a warrior, a soldier, a blacksmith, recently a farmer, and above all, he was fiercely independent. It would kill him not have use of his leg, denied the things he loved to do the most and forced to rely on others for help.
Hercules was startled by his mother bustling into the room. She shot him an odd glance, but he ran a hand through his hair and looked away, not wanting to meet her gaze for she surely would see the distress in his eyes. Alcmene knew something was wrong, but she could also see that her son did not want to talk about whatever had disturbed him so greatly. So, she turned her attentions to preparing the medicine that the healer had left, all of her motherly devotion concentrated on the man she had come to think of as her third son.
“Hercules, could you take this pot of water into Ania, please?”
The demigod did not want to face his friend, for Iolaus was just as good, if not better than, Alcmene when it came to reading his mind. He would have preferred to wait a bit, until he got himself under control and could better hide the devastation the healer’s predictions had wrought upon his soul. But he sighed and effortlessly lifted the heavy cauldron of water from the fire, taking it back to the bedroom.
Iolaus was recounting his tale for his wife, carefully skipping around the more intense parts so as not to upset her. Hercules poured some of the heated water into a large basin, and Ania began to bathe the dirt and grit from her husband’s fevered body as she listened intently to his story.
“I guess we can thank the fates that you survived at all,” she murmured when he had finished. “I can’t even imagine being trapped under all those rocks, not having any hope of getting out. It must have been so awful for you.”
“It wasn’t exactly a picnic,” the hunter agreed, thinking back to the long, lonely hours he’d spent pinned under a mountain of rock. Not able to move. Not knowing if it was day or night. The stark realization that he had just finished the last few drops in his waterskin. Shivering as the cold rocks pulled the heat from his body. And the constant, throbbing pain in his leg, from an injury he couldn’t see. Not knowing if he would bleed to death before he had the chance to die of thirst. Iolaus shook his head slightly, as if to brush away the memories, before he sought out his friend, hovering in the corner of the room. “But I wasn’t afraid. I knew Hercules would come for me.”
“And just how did you know that?” Ania asked affectionately, quite used to her husband’s wild claims.
“Yeah. How did you know?” The demigod’s head had jerked up as he heard his partner’s words. He’d been trying to avoid Iolaus’ eyes, but now he searched the blue depths, stunned by the quiet conviction he’d heard in his friend’s voice.
“Because,” the hunter replied, turning back to his wife after holding his friend’s gaze for long moments. “He’s always come before. Hercules has always been there when I needed him, and somehow I just knew that he would find me.”
“Sometimes I think that’s the only reason I was put on this earth,” the demigod teased. “To bail you out of the trouble you get yourself into.” His tone had been light, but heavy sorrow shone from his eyes, a fact that did not go unnoticed by his partner.
“Well then, I guess I should thank the fates for you, Hercules.” Ania rose from the bed and made her way over to the demigod, rising up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “Thank you for bringing him home to me.”
“Oh, don’t listen to him,” Iolaus scoffed. “Half the trouble I get into is because he got me into it in the first place.”
“Hercules might point you in the right direction,” Ania admonished him with a gentle smile. “But I have the feeling that you don’t need any help in sniffing out that trouble.”
“Please,” the demigod interjected. “That’s putting it mildly. Its more like I can’t hold him back once he starts down that trail.”
“Ok,” the hunter grumbled good naturedly. “I think that’s enough picking on the injured guy for one evening.”
“I suppose, after all you’ve been through,” Ania told him with a feigned sigh of disappointment. She took her husband’s hand, squeezing it tightly to reassure him and herself that he was alive and home. Iolaus returned the squeeze, favoring his beloved wife with a golden smile. “I’m going to go see if Alcmene needs any help. I’ll be back in a minute.”
Iolaus watched her leave the room, sagging back against his pillows, dropping the “I’m fine” front he’d been keeping up to help ease her worry. Taking advantage of the minute they had alone, he turned back to his friend.
“What is it?”
“What do you mean?”
“Come on, Hercules,” the hunter said wearily. “I’m not up for playing these games right now. You’ve got that look on your face, so just tell me what the problem is.”
“There’s no problem,” the demigod replied, looking away once more. “I’m just tired, that’s all.”
“Do you think I don’t realize there’s a good chance that my leg will never heal?” Iolaus asked softly.
Hercules turned stricken blue eyes on his friend.
“I’m not stupid,” the hunter continued. “I know that it was a long time between the break and when you set it. Maybe too long. And I know that there’s a possibility that this leg will be useless for the rest of my life. But until we know that for sure, I’m just not going to think about it.”
“How can you not?” the demigod asked in a whisper.
“Because when I think about it, I start to panic. The walls close in and I can’t breathe,” Iolaus admitted. “Its not a good feeling, so I’d just rather think about the chance that it could heal just fine. There is that hope, and until I’m proven wrong, I’m going to keep believing that. It’s the only thing that can get me through it without losing my mind.”
Hercules moved forward, sitting on the edge of his friend’s bed and bending low to look him square in the eye.
“Iolaus, you were right before,” he said fiercely. “I will always be there for you. Whenever you need me. And nothing is ever going to change that. Whatever happens, you will always be the best friend I’ll ever have, and the only one I trust to be at my side. And whatever obstacles pop up, we’ll find a way around them together. I promise you.”
“Thanks, Herc,” Iolaus murmured, his eyes shining with love and appreciation for the reassurance his friend had given him.
“No thanks needed,” the demigod told him fondly. “That’s what partners do for each other.”
Ania returned to the bedroom, bearing a steaming mug of medicinal tea. Iolaus sniffed it gingerly, his grimace of disgust relaying just what he thought of it. But Hercules was not about to let him get away with any of his usual tricks.
“Just spare us the theatrics and drink up,” he commanded in a no-nonsense voice. “You have to hurry up and get well. For I fully intend to carry on with my wedding, and I can’t get married without my best man standing beside me.”
“Married?” Ania exclaimed, turning away from the supplies on the table she’d been fussing with. “Hercules, you’re getting married?”
“You’re what?”
The demigod looked up with a guilty start to see his mother standing in the doorway.
“Look’s like the cat’s out of the bag,” Iolaus giggled. The ensuing chaos was a perfect opportunity for him to discreetly do away with the bitter tea, but he decided he couldn’t deprive Hercules of a best man for his wedding. Taking a deep breath and hoping that his friend knew the sacrifice he was making on his behalf, the hunter gulped down the strong medicine.
It had a decided soporific effect, and within minutes he felt the sedatives tugging at his eyelids. Giving in, Iolaus closed his eyes and let the drug ease him into Morpheus’ embrace. He thought that the rest would do him good, but when he awoke hours later, the hunter felt worse than before. His leg ached almost unbearably, and he felt sick all over, burning with fever. He fumbled in the dark, reaching beside him on the table and finding a mug of water. But he lacked the strength to pick it up, his fingers clumsily failing to get a good hold. So when a soft glow of light heralded the arrival of a divine immortal, he immediately assumed that Celesta had come to take him to the other side. He certainly never expected a visit from the god that materialized before him.
“Zeus,” he croaked weakly. “What are you doing here?”
“I was in the neighborhood,” the god replied distractedly, taking in the sight of the dying man before him. “Why didn’t you tell Hercules the truth about what happened?”
“What good would that have done?” Iolaus asked, rubbing a restless hand over his forehead. “When all of the fires went out, everyone knew it was the work of the gods. But when the fire came back, I knew that was the work of Hercules. So when that peacock feather landed at my feet about two seconds before the whole ridge came crashing down on my head, it really didn’t take too much imagination to see what was going on. Herc thwarted Hera, and you wouldn’t let her hurt him directly, so she came after me. She tried to kill me, knowing that she could still hurt him that way.”
The hunter fell silent for a moment, reliving that moment of pure dread when those baleful eyes had appeared in the sky, staring down at him with unadulterated, malicious hatred. And that spiteful, triumphant laughter, echoed in his ears long after the thunder of the rockslide had receded.
“When Hercules dug me out, I could already see the guilt in his eyes,” Iolaus continued. “He blamed himself for not finding me sooner, and he felt guilty over what he had to do to treat my leg. I couldn’t tell him that this happened because Hera had been using me to get to him. It would have eaten him up inside, and he never would have been able to forgive himself.”
“I couldn’t stop her from doing this,” Zeus confessed. “And she’ll be madder than a whole flock of hydras for an intervention on my part. But I suppose I owe it to you to heal you now.”
“Does it have to be all at once, or could we do it gradually?” the hunter asked.
“You’re enjoying the experience?” The king of the gods raised an eyebrow at the mortal. “I never pegged you as a masochist.”
“Far from it,” Iolaus assured him, managing a tiny grin. “But if I’m suddenly and miraculously healed, Hercules is going to demand answers. And then the truth will have to come out.”
“You’re willing to endue a long, painful recovery, just so my son doesn’t have to hear about how Hera attacked you?”
“Yes,” the hunter said firmly. “Because I know how Hercules is. If he ever thought that his war with Hera hurt me or someone else he loved, that would be a scar he’d carry on his soul forever. I can’t do that to him, cause him that pain. Especially if everything’s going to work out in the long run.”
“Then I’d say you’ve earned a favor,” Zeus decreed. “For your loyalty and dedication in protecting my son, your reward shall be the healing of your injuries. Your way.” The god winked at the scrappy mortal before he vanished from the room.
Iolaus was left in the dark, taking stock of his condition. He didn’t feel any different; the pain was still razor sharp and the fever still burned fiercely inside him. But he was able to endure it all much easier, since he had been given the hope that he would come out of this as good as new.
The hunter had started to drift back asleep, but the creaking of the door roused him. Through slitted eyes, he saw Ania enter the room and sit carefully beside him. Her delicate hand gently lifted his head up as she placed a mug of water to his lips. Iolaus drank gratefully, the cool water easing the burning in his parched throat. Ania eased him back down against the pillow and began to bathe his fevered skin.
A shadow blocked the light that was shining in from the open doorway.
“You should get some rest.”
Iolaus recognized the hushed whisper of his partner.
“You need it more than I do,” Ania whispered back.
Hercules didn’t argue, but he had no intentions of complying. Instead, he came into the room, pulling up a chair to the opposite side of the bed to keep the worried girl company during her vigil. Iolaus wanted to reassure them that he was all right, but he was suddenly too exhausted to form the words, and he let sleep claim him, feeling safe with the two people he loved most in the world watching over him.
It was a long night, and more than once Hercules found himself wondering if his friend would make it to morning as the fever raged within him. But just as the first faint light of dawn started to drive back the oppressive darkness, the hunter’s fever broke and he relaxed into a peaceful, natural slumber.
“I knew you could pull through it, buddy,” the demigod whispered into his sleeping friend’s ear. He looked across the bed, smiling at Ania. “He’s always been there when I’ve needed him, too. I knew he’d come back to us.”
Hercules momentarily forgot his nervousness as he fixed his gaze on the man by his side. Iolaus was proudly standing next him on two legs that were both straight and strong. He caught the demigod’s eye and flashed him a brilliant grin.
“Herc, I just want you to know that I’m honored to be here with you today.”
“Iolaus, my friend,” the demigod grinned back, slinging an arm around his partner’s shoulders. “There is no one else that I’d ever have here.”
A rustling in the crowd announced the arrival of the bride to be, and the start of the ceremony. Hercules briefly started to panic, but when he saw the beautiful redhead walking toward him, her eyes glowing with love and her smile radiating happiness, he immediately calmed, secure in the knowledge that it was right.
As Deianeira took her place next to the demigod, he began thinking that he was entering a new phase in his life. One that Iolaus had already settled into. He was about to become a husband, a farmer, and if the fates were kind, a father. A far cry from the life which he’d envisioned during his Academy days. A life of adventure on the open road, with his partner by his side.
Hercules didn’t know where this new path would lead him. But of one thing he was sure. The hunter would be with him every step of the way. For no matter what the future held and no matter where their destinies would take them, they would always ultimately be there for each other. They were friends, they were brothers, and they were partners. And that’s just what partners did.
Finis
Disclaimer: While the author lost several brain cells to sleep deprivation, no one else was harmed during the writing of this story.
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