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.
Iolaus held Hercules in his arms, every fiber in his body screaming denial.
It was a bloody battlefield. So many dead, so many dying. The stench of blood filled the air, the moans of the dying on the wind.
But Iolaus had eyes only for the man he held across his lap. He watched as Hercules’ life’s blood ran like a torrent across his chest and into the ground. He couldn’t stop it and he knew it.
It wasn’t supposed to end like this. Hercules was immortal. He was going to live forever. Iolaus was the mortal, the one with the life of a mayfly in comparison to Hercules’ endless youth. How could someone who was immortal die? From a wound in battle?
Hercules looked up at Iolaus and raised a shaking hand to the wet cheek.
“Don’t Iolaus. It’s alright. You’ve made my life full. You’ve been my friend and brother.”
Iolaus put his hand in Hercules’ upraised one.
“I won’t ask you not to leave. I won’t let you go, thinking you failed me because you couldn’t stay. I love you, Herc. You’ll live forever in my heart. I promise you.”
Hercules smiled faintly, the focus already fading from his blue eyes.
“I’ll remember, always.” He said in the slightest of whispers before the spark of life left his eyes.
Iolaus sat on the battlefield for hours, just holding Hercules, unsure what to do next. It was almost dark when he became aware of someone standing next to him, silently watching. Without looking, he knew who it was.
“What do you want, Ares? Have you come to gloat, to make some glib remark?”
Squatting, the god of war only shook his head.
“No, Iolaus. I’ve come to help. It was decided long ago that should Hercules die before you, we would help you.”
“Why?” Iolaus spit out, the bitterness seething from him. “You spent your life tormenting him. Your own mother murdered his family. Your nephew murdered Serena. Why help me?”
“Because, no matter what we did, no matter the danger, you never abandoned him. You never lost faith in him. I never cared for Hercules. Before he was born, I was Zeus’ favorite. But even I had to admire his tenacity. And I’ve always admired you as a warrior and as his friend. Let me help. Whatever you want, that’s what we’ll do. Before you ask, I can’t bring him back. His mortal half is gone, as his godly half decided to go with him.”
Iolaus looked down at Hercules, already growing cold in his arms.
“There’s a meadow, where we played as children.”
“Where your marker is, the one he put there after Dahok?”
“Yes. I want a funeral pyre. I want to take his ashes there. I want to put him beyond the reach of man or god.”
Ares nodded.
They stood before the marker, Ares and Iolaus. Mortal enemies bound by a mutual respect for Hercules. Iolaus took the earthen jar from Ares and spread the contents at the base of the marker.
“Rest, my friend. Be at peace. Your battle is over. Mine is just beginning.”
Ares stepped forward.
“Brother, I swear by the Styx, Iolaus need fear no more about the gods. He was a true and loyal friend to you. You were blessed. We had no love lost between us, but I never wanted it to end like this.”
Ares watched as Iolaus sat beside the stone. He had never realized how deeply death could affect mortals. He had never experienced grief and had no idea what it felt like. But Iolaus was in pain, he knew. He could help, if the hunter would let him.
“Iolaus?”
“Why are you still here?” Iolaus didn’t look up. He wanted to be alone and he wanted Ares to go.
“I can help take your pain away.”
Iolaus looked up. “What? Take my pain away?”
“Yes. Hercules cared for you. I don’t think he would want you to be in such pain.”
Iolaus drew a deep breath. His heart ached, his soul felt torn and raw. It was such a tempting offer.
“No. I need to feel pain. I need to feel sorrow. Sorrow is truth, Ares. The truth is the best part of me is gone. But I’ll go on. In his honor and for his sake, I’ll go on.”
Ares smiled.
“So be it. I’ll go now, but first,” he waved slightly as a small campfire appeared with a soft, fur covering on the ground beside it and a thick blanket on top of that. A platter of meat, cheese and fruit and a jug of wine sat beside the fire. “Perhaps, one day, you’ll tell me how that moralizing, prim brother of mine could attract a friend with so much fire in his soul.” Ares said as he disappeared into the night.
“Maybe I will, Ares. But I doubt you’d understand.”
He poured a cup of wine and lifted it skyward.
“To you, Herc. I’ll hold you in my heart forever and I’ll never let your dream die.”
He watched as a lone star shot across the sky and was oddly comforted.
Ares appeared later in the night as Iolaus tossed in uneasy sleep. Touching a finger to the blond’s forehead, he watched as Iolaus quieted and fell into a deep sleep. He saw Hercules’ godly half standing across the fire.
“Take his pain, Ares, but leave his memories. My last gift.”
“As you wish, brother. He will be pissed when he wakes up.”
“For awhile, but he’ll get over it. I want him to be at peace. I don’t want him to go through what I did when I lost him to Dahok.”
Hercules watched as Ares again touched Iolaus’ forehead. The blond’s face relaxed, even in sleep. It was done. Hercules could feel it.
“Thanks, Ares. I have to go now.”
Ares shook his head. “I’ll keep an eye on him. He won’t come to any harm if I can help it.”
Hercules nodded. He took one last look at Iolaus, turned and was gone.
“Remember, Iolaus.” The words hung in the air for a short second and, they, too, were gone.
“He will, brother. I promise that to you.”
Ares sat down to watch over the warrior, making sure his healing sleep lasted through the night.
Tomorrow, Ares thought as he finally left camp for his temple. We’ll begin your journey tomorrow.
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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