The Road Ahead

Standard disclaimer applies – I don't own them and the BBC does.

A/N – This is a sequel to Fortune's Fool. Thank you so much to those who reviewed the last chapter and who have supported the story! And to sachi and Angel, who I couldn't reply to personally – thanks for your reviews! I really hope you enjoy the next step of the journey. I have to warn people, this one's set to be a bit of a slow-burner as we explore Jason's life in his rather different settings. I hope you'll be willing to give it a try and see if you like it. :-) Please enjoy!

Chapter 1

There were two cockerels somewhere on the palace grounds. Jason had never been a country boy but he had always been led to believe that they were meant to crow in the morning. These little buggers crowed every minute of the damned day and apparently, right outside his window. There were peacocks, too in a small part of the grounds called Hera's Garden and they made just as much of a racket.

He sat on his bed and listened to the cockerels' screeching wail yet again and his hands reflexively clenched into fists. Those blasted birds would drive him to distraction and he'd only been at the palace for three days. The palace gardens were one of the few places that Jason had been granted unrestricted access to, but after hours of futile searching, he still couldn't work out where the birds were.

The young man rose and went to look out of his large, airy window. It led out onto a small balcony, overlooking an orchard but Pasiphae had kept the doors locked. She apparently had heard of his talent and propensity for leaping from daring heights. The locks could be easily broken, but Jason didn't see the point. Not yet. The sun rose higher in the sky, inching closer to midday when Pasiphae would come and find him to confirm that he was finally being released.

His mind wandered away, far from ornately carved marble walls and silk hangings to a comfy, modest little dwelling in a crowded, dusty street where his two friends would, he could only hope, be waiting for him. The thought of returning home again was one of the only things that had helped him to keep a grip on his temper, his sanity and the sense of being utterly overwhelmed - swallowed up by his new experiences.

Of course, if Hercules and Pythagoras were the hope that kept him looking forward, then Ariadne was the reality that kept him rooted to the present. Jason allowed himself a rare, easy smile as he thought of the companionship they had shared since his arrival at the palace. True, it was supervised and they were both under the strictest of instructions that neither was to be found in the other's room, no matter how innocent the circumstances.

But that did not mean they could not steal innocent conversations while walking the palace corridors, or sit on little white stone benches in the courtyards without fear of guards or prosecution or damning eyes. It was heaven – it was more than Jason could have ever hoped for. He learned so much about her, about her life, her little personality traits, the way her eyes lit up with her smile. He of course, had to be more guarded with the truth but he told her what he could, a version of reality. The two of them had sat and talked for hours until Ariadne's duties had called her away.

Jason had no duties. He had no job, no friends, no purpose. It was like he was newly arrived in Atlantis again and once more had to forge a path for himself through bracken and thorns. On his arrival at the palace, Pasiphae had made it clear that things would be revealed to him as and when she saw fit. He had been led to his bedroom – large and beautifully decorated, both by his standards in his old life and compared to Hercules' flat.

Jason got the impression he would be spending a lot of time here, sometimes voluntarily, sometimes not so it was just as well that it was as comfortable as it was. A large bed stood near the window with a sturdy wooden trunk at the foot of the bed. Near a fireplace were two chairs and a small table and various jugs of water and other items lined the shelf spaces around the room. A large modesty screen sectioned off an area for washing and where servants would bring in hot water and a small bath. It was almost like having running water again though Jason felt uncomfortable with the idea that it was somebody's job to provide this for him.

With a reluctant sigh, Jason pushed away from the window and went back to flop down on his bed. His eyes fell upon his rather crumpled light red tunic that lay on the trunk at the end of his bed. He was back in his ordinary clothes and briefly wondered if that would earn him yet another reproach even though he had been assured that he may wear them when returning to the city. It had been made clear to him on his first day, as Pasiphae had brought him to his room that his clothing would have to change while staying at the palace.

For now, he just needed Pasiphae to come and sign his release papers, so to speak so that he could finally be free of the madness. There was a sound at Jason's door. He immediately tensed and turned his head but the scuffling footsteps just kept walking past. The boy sighed again, irritation playing at his frazzled nerves. The whole three days had felt like walking on eggshells – navigating one landmine after the next. Wherever possible, he had made it a point to keep to his own company, when not with Ariadne.

Jason had tentatively wandered the palace but even when using caution, was still rebuked for trespassing in forbidden areas. He had tried to avoid seeing both Pasiphae and Minos and mealtimes were the only real obstacles. Breakfast could be avoided by sleeping late and the evening meal could sometimes be circumvented by taking himself away to a hidden corner of the palace gardens.

Only the midday meal was unavoidable but he was usually excused as soon as he had wolfed down a few bites, sitting as far away from the others as he could humanly manage without appearing rude. He would stare at his plate while conversations passed around him on topics that Jason had no clue about or opinion on. He had tried not to squirm under his perceived scrutiny. He was like the beggar at the feast. The painfully obvious,

elephant in the room, breaking all of their delicate tableware. He would catch Pasiphae staring, pointedly at him but the boy could never work out if he was doing something wrong or whether she simply wanted to look at him. Minos seemed to pay him no attention and Jason was glad that he could almost slip away without notice.

Finally, he heard a light knock on his door. He hadn't a chance to reply before it was pushed open and Pasiphae entered the room. He stood to face her.

"So I can go now?" he asked, immediately, arms crossed over his abdomen. She paused and raised an eyebrow at his greeting and suddenly, unexpectedly, Jason felt a little embarrassed, perhaps even a little guilty. He couldn't be certain, but Jason fancied he could see a flash of hurt pass across his mother's features before she reigned it back in.

But only the impassive mask greeted him now and Jason inwardly sighed. He still half-expected her to draw her dagger and plunge it into his chest when she looked at him like that. Hell, whenever he passed her in the hallway for that matter! The impulse to run the other way from her was still one he fought each and every time he saw her.

"I see you are packed and ready to leave," the queen remarked, smoothly. Her eyes travelled down to his small leather satchel, resting on his bed and Jason felt himself faintly blush, though he wasn't sure why. Then her eyes moved over to the haphazardly discarded clothing he had been presented with on his arrival and his blush deepened a little more. He had more of an idea about that one.

Jason gave a one-shouldered shrug and tried to meet her eyes. He was getting better at it but it was still hard. "We agreed midday," he said. "It's almost time."

"Indeed it is." Then she smiled at him, warmly. Jason's insides flopped over. He wanted nothing to do with this woman, with this monster. So why did a sign of affection do this to him? Inwardly, the boy cursed his own weakness. "You have done well on your first visit, Jason."

At that, the young man snorted. "Really? Because from where I was standing, it looked like I was in the way wherever I went, I was never in the right place, or wearing the right clothes or saying the right things and, oh yes, Minos hates me." He paused and shot her a hard glance. "I don't even think you like me and you're the only one who wants me here." He didn't mention Ariadne. Speaking about his relationship with her, in front of the queen, just seemed wrong.

Pasiphae sighed. "Minos does not hate you. He will take some time to adjust but so must we all. And I am most glad to have you here, Jason." She hesitated, her voice catching a little. "I realise I may not express my intentions clearly and I shall have high expectations of you, but you must never doubt that you are wanted here." Pasiphae stepped closer to him and rested a palm against his cheek. Jason tried not to flinch but fortunately, she broke the connection quickly.

"However," Her voice was hard again, like iron. "These first few days I have allowed you to merely settle in." Jason resisted the urge to point out that he was anything but settled. "When you return, we shall begin your routines." Jason's stomach tightened.

"What kind of routine?" he demanded, his muscles tensing as his jaw tightened. He felt his pulse quicken and his heart thud heavily. Pasiphae simply treated him to a curious look.

"Nothing that we have not discussed before, I assure you." She looked at the boy, meaningfully. "It was a clear expectation that you would begin to learn about your family, about your heritage." Pasiphae raised her chin and pinned him down with steely blue eyes. "Do you not remember the document?" It was clearly a challenge and one she knew he could not deny. Jason's sense of justice, of right and wrong would not allow the boy to deny that which he knew to be true.

She watched with grim satisfaction as a scowl spread over his youthful features and he glanced down at the ground. He gave one short, irritable nod but it was enough of a response for the queen. "Very well then," she continued, briskly. "When you return to us, we shall begin your education."

At that, Jason looked up, sharply. "I've been educated!" he insisted, hotly. God knows, school was painful enough the first time around and he'd be damned if he went through it again! "Where I come from, I've done years of school and university!" Pasiphae smiled at him appraisingly, tilting her head to one side.

"I am glad to hear it. Clearly, you are not stupid. This is most gratifying to hear and, I must confess, something of a relief." Jason bit his tongue to stop the retort from escaping. His mother danced around insults like a moth round a flame. "Unfortunately, this education seems to serve you very little purpose in Atlantis. You were raised in a very different place, I gather." She didn't wait for him to respond. "As such, you must be versed in our own history, our culture, our laws." She paused and almost smirked at him. "Our language." Jason bristled and she watched the boy's eyes darken, with faint amusement.

"A tutor will assess your current understanding and where there are gaps in your learning. You shall not be made to re-learn any skills you already possess. That would be pointless and a waste of your time. You will learn only what you need, to be both a functional member of the royal family and, for that matter, a citizen of Atlantis."

Her words bombarded his brain as torturous memories of study sessions and tutor-groups assaulted him all at once. Sitting indoors and learning was something Jason had loathed. He couldn't wait to be finished with schooling and out in the real world. The thought of being forced back in to it again made him seethe – or maybe want to cry. He wasn't sure which. But Pasiphae's expression was so calm, so unassuming that it was difficult to hold on to his righteous anger.

"It is reasonable, under the circumstances, is it not?" she asked.

And that's what really angered Jason: for as much as he wanted to pick apart every action of his mother's, to find the evil plan lurking behind it, in this instance, there was none. She was right, damn it! Expecting him to have a Greek education in order to function in Atlantis, was not an unreasonable demand. But that didn't mean he had to like it.

Again, he shrugged. "Fine," he muttered, looking down at his chest. A hand caught his chin and tilted his head upwards. Apparently, that wasn't enough of a response.

"Yes, that's fine," he tried again quietly, just one step above a mutter though his tone was noticeably more civilised. Pasiphae gave his chin a light squeeze before nodding and then releasing him.

"But I'm not going to be the son you want," he suddenly exclaimed. "No matter how much you have me tutored and trained."

Pasiphae had begun to turn away from him but now she paused and slowly turned back to face him. Her expression was guarded and hard. "You don't know what kind of son I want," she said quietly.

Jason nearly sneered before he realised that gesture was borne from his mother. "I can guess," he returned in a hard, cool voice. She raised an eyebrow: a challenge. Jason's anger blissfully ignored his thudding heart. "Obedient; mindless; ruthless. That's not going to be me. I'm never going to be your next lapdog: your next Heptarian."

Jason credited himself with fast reactions but even he did not see the slap coming until he registered the burning blow across his face. His head whipped round to the side and when he turned back to her, his mouth hanging open, her lips were tightly pressed together, her eyes were both blazing and shining with moisture and her hand was trembling where it still hovered in the air. Jason held her gaze for a moment longer before dropping his own down. He didn't care if he wounded the queen. But this was like wounding his mother.

But a second later, and Pasiphae returned. Jason watched her expression smooth out into one of casual regard and her hand dropped neatly to her side once more. Only her eyes were a little harder than before but Jason held her gaze, regardless. He wasn't ready to apologise: he didn't think he should. But there were limits, lines to cross and he was becoming more aware of them.

"Well then," she continued softly, as her gaze fixed with his, "it is a good thing that we understand each other." A look of regret briefly emerged from beneath the mask and Jason felt his guilt prickle in his chest to see it. The queen cleared her throat. "But yes. It is time for you to leave us." She finally broke his gaze and flicked her eyes towards the door. "Make good use of your three days and…" she hesitated a moment, "take care on the journey to your father."

Jason watched her turn away from him, with a slightly puzzled frown. She had clearly said her piece but benign words from this woman were still a confusing incongruence. But as Pasiphae made to go, Jason's own sense of propriety could not leave the exchange there. "Thank you," he mumbled. She paused a moment and turned to him with the slightest of smiles, curling up one corner of her mouth. Her eyes still held the edge of flint in them, though. And then she was gone, leaving him blissfully alone once more.

Jason waited a minute until he was sure enough time had passed for her to safely be out of the way and then he swiped up his bag from the bed and made sure everything he had packed from home was returning with him. He didn't want to leave anything behind. Like him, nothing from Hercules' house belonged in this place and besides, if he unpacked, if he left his items here then didn't this become his room? And didn't that mean that he was really living there? Jason shook his head, quickly and hurried out of the room.

He gave the wooden door a mighty heave to close it and winced as it clattered shut with a resounding bang that echoed down the hallway. Clearly, the gesture did not require as much force as he had anticipated. Hastily, Jason sprinted off down the hallway only to pull up short with a startled yelp.

Coming around the corner, was Minos, dressed in his more casual robes and clearly most surprised to encounter the whirlwind of Jason, hurtling towards him. His eyebrows raised in a silent question as Jason all but screeched to a halt, his expression horrified. Immediately, the boy stood back against the wall, his head bowed.

"I'm sorry, Your Majesty," he said quietly. Pasiphae, he would push the boundaries with. But Minos was different. The man terrified him on a good day but perhaps more than that, Jason found he had an inkling of respect for the man. His heart beat hard in his chest as he waited to be thrown in the dungeons or made to leap the bulls again.

But the king simply stood, silently regarding the boy, this newest addition to his household. Jason began to squirm, ever so slightly, where he stood. Finally, just when he thought he actually might have turned invisible and Minos was just staring intently at a crack in the wall, the king addressed him.

"We only run in this palace, if we are being chased." His voice was quiet and measured, almost as if speaking to a particularly dense or stubborn child.

Jason gulped, his face burning. "Yes, Sire," he mumbled. Minos gave an almost imperceptible nod. Then his steely eyes seemed to fix upon Jason's attire. Pasiphae had immediately christened them his street clothes. The boy was aware that Minos tolerated them less than she did. Jason resisted the urge to lick his dry lips.

"The queen said that I could wear this. That it would be alright."

The lad almost held his breath as he watched the king narrow his eyes for a moment. "You are returning to your friend's house in the city?" he clarified. "The man, Hercules?"

Jason nodded. "Yes."

Minos thought for a second and then gave a brief nod of acknowledgement. "Very well. See to it that the first thing you do when you return here is to come straight to your chambers and change." Jason nodded once more, itching to be away.

"I will, Your Majesty." He held his breath, willing the king to dismiss him. With every moment he was delayed, Jason irrationally feared never being allowed to leave, to return home to his welcoming friends. But Minos took one step to the side and gestured with his hand for Jason to continue on his way. With a great effort, Jason suppressed his sigh of relief and pushed away from the wall, passing the king with a nod of his head.

But he got no more than a few steps when the king's voice stopped him in his tracks, once more. "And Jason?"

The boy's pulse quickened as he turned to face Minos.

"See to it that not only are you dressed appropriately but that you do not flatten yourself against a wall when I walk by." Again, Jason felt his face flush scarlet as he looked down at his hands. Minos' expression was suddenly harder to read. "I shall not have my stepson mistaken for a servant." Apparently, the king did not expect an answer to this: he continued on his way, leaving Jason to finally let out his sigh of relief.

At a calmer, but no less purposeful pace, Jason made his way out of the palace and back towards the city where his home awaited him.

Pythagoras gave the small cooking pot another stir and inhaled the rich aromas, with deep satisfaction. The young man let out a contented sigh. The stew would be a good one, even if he did say so himself. It was one of Jason's favourite meals. As midday approached, it was almost ready which was a small mercy as he had been salivating at the mere thought of it for some time now.

The blonde mathematician also considered it a blessing that Hercules was currently out – fending off the bigger man's attacks, where food was concerned was not a task for the faint of heart.

Suddenly, the front door burst open and the man himself strode through, a grin beaming across his ruddy face. Pythagoras glanced up from his cooking, tapping the wooden spoon one last time against the pan, before moving it off the fire.

"I was beginning to think you weren't going to make it back in time," he remarked, casually.

Hercules waved a dismissive hand. "I had everything under control. Just a little morning tipple." Pythagoras raised an eyebrow, in amusement.

"Well, at least you still have the shirt on your back. I suppose we should be grateful for small mercies." He noticed the flagon of wine that Hercules carried. "Does the tavern know you've taken that with you?"

His friend shot him a wounded look. "As if I would steal? From a tavern? The thought is unthinkable, Pythagoras! This, I bought. It's Jason's favourite." He suddenly looked embarrassed. "I mean, I know they'll have wine at the palace."

Pythagoras nodded. "Probably the very best wine," he agreed.

Hercules snorted, dismissively. "What do they know about good wine? Nothing! They know expensive wine – but not the sweet nectar that can send you into a Bacchanal festival of delights!

"Otherwise known as under the table." Pythagoras leaned down to check a tray of loaves, fresh from the bakery that morning that were warming near the fire. He heard his friend striding over and dumping the flagon down on the work surface with an over-exaggerated flourish. Irritably, Pythagoras straightened up and moved it to one side, out of the way of his preparations.

"Your problem, Pythagoras, is that you have no palette for the finer things in life."

The young man smirked. "The intricacies of my palette aside, I at least shall retain my faculties to remember what I have imbibed the night before," he countered, a little primly, folding his arms across his narrow chest. Hercules chuckled and shook his head in a somewhat patronising manner.

"My friend, some of the finest mysteries of this world are meant to be experienced in the heat of the moment!" He paused and eyed the younger man sadly. "Not taken apart, piece by piece, methodically examined, rationalised and put back together in more-or-less the same condition you found it in." Pythagoras stiffened at the mocking tone.

"I believe you are mistaking the mysteries of life to the mindlessness caused by drinking the last dregs of the wine skein until you stumble into utter oblivion."

Hercules immediately puffed up. However, as he opened his mouth to launch into a mild tirade, they both started at the sound of a low, soft chuckle coming from the doorway.

"It's so good to see that some things haven't changed," Jason said, leaning against the doorframe with his arms folded across his chest and a smile spread across his face.

"Jason!" Pythagoras exclaimed, stepping forwards. He paused, a guilty expression passing over his face. "I didn't want you to come home to bickering." Hercules also turned to face him, a welcoming smile on his face, even as his eyes narrowed.

But Jason just shook his head. "Are you kidding? It's normality! After the last three days, trust me – it's just what I needed!" He dropped his bag on the floor by his feet and went to join them in the kitchen, as Pythagoras and Hercules moved around to meet him. The young mathematician enveloped his friend in a warm hug, patting him lightly on the back.

"Welcome home," he said, quietly and Jason's heart lurched a little at the word home. Yes, more than ever, this was the word that described this place and Jason understood it now more acutely and keenly than he had since…well, since he could remember.

When the blonde pulled away, Hercules immediately placed his hands on Jason's arms and gave them a firm squeeze, before pulling him into a quick, light embrace. Jason smiled at the older man who had now cupped a hand to one side of his face. It took Jason a second longer to realise that what he had first taken for a sign of affection was, in actuality, his older friend assessing him for injuries. It almost made the young man laugh out loud at Hercules' surreptitious mother-henning.

"Thanks," Jason replied. "It's good to be back. Lunch smells great."

Hercules draped an arm around the lad's shoulders, took up his wine jug and led him to sit at the table as Pythagoras brought the waiting bowls to the table and divided the bread amongst the plates. "You wait until you've tried the wine," he announced, proudly as he pushed the lad down onto the bench.

Jason grinned at his friend. "If it's been vetted by you, it should be good. Unless it's the wine you drink when you're already three sheets to the wind and wouldn't know wine from pond water." For a moment, Hercules looked as though he was considering being offended, until he realised that the dark-haired boy had a perfectly valid point.

"Not at all! This is the good stuff for the start of the journey." He snagged an earthenware cup from the wooden boards of the table and generously filled it before handing to Jason. He watched the lad eagerly as he obligingly brought it to his lips, aware that his reaction was going to be scrutinised. Jason took a measured sip and was relieved that he didn't have to employ his fairly poor acting skills to convince his friend that it was good – the wine was sweet and potent. He'd have to be very careful how much he drank and how quickly.

Hercules watched the surprise and satisfaction spread over the boy's face and his own grin intensified. "See? What did I tell you?" He poured himself a very generous cup, then one for Pythagoras and sat down next to Jason. The young man nodded. He took another drink.

"It's very good," he assured his friend. Very good. He was already starting to feel a little light-headed and he'd only had two gulps. Jason sighed and looked around the house. On the way back home, passing through the streets of Atlantis, Jason had repeatedly stopped himself from breaking out in to an outright run in his urgency to get home. As it was, he couldn't help speeding up in to a steady trot, the closer he drew, past the agora.

It had only been three days but it was still the longest time he had spent away from his new friends since arriving in Atlantis. As he had pushed open his front door and heard the familiar sounds of his friends' good-natured griping, Jason smiled to himself at the warmth that had flooded his heart. There had seemed very little that had been good-natured or warm about life in the palace. He couldn't even say that time with Ariadne had produced the same effect. She was…intoxicating. Alluring. But she wasn't the same warm, familiar safety: not yet.

Pythagoras slowly made his way from the kitchen to the table with a large cooking pot carefully balanced in his hands, a thick cloth wrapped around it to protect them from the heat. Both Hercules and Jason instinctively winced to see it. On more than one occasion, their erstwhile clumsy friend had proven that heat, as well as sharp objects seemed to bear no love for him.

But Fortune appeared to have blessed the young genius that day and he safely delivered the meal to the table. Jason let out a quiet sigh of relief, amused to notice from the corner of his eye, that Hercules had done the same. Oblivious to this, Pythagoras happily announced: "Let us eat!" And as Pythagoras spooned the stew into the bowls and Hercules passed around the plates of bread, Jason tried not to think about how much smaller the house appeared now. It was true, that he was immensely glad to be back but he couldn't shake the feeling that everything seemed just a little out of place now. Like it didn't quite fit together the same way that it used to. Or that maybe he didn't fit into this house as he once did.

That low, spiralling feeling tugged once more at the pit of his stomach and threatened to draw him down again. Jason dropped his eyes to his bowl as he felt his gut twist and tighten. But listening to his friends' cheerful banter and feeling their eager eyes upon him, Jason forced a smile onto his face, regardless. You're just feeling out of sorts, he told himself firmly. It was no different to the unsettled feeling he got when he came and went from university. It would pass with a good meal and a long-overdue conversation with his friends.

"So," Pythagoras started, brightly. "Tell us about life at the palace. It must be very different to get used to."

Jason tried not to grimace. Instead he offered a small shrug. "It's okay. Different, but it's not too bad." Pythagoras' keen blue eyes still fixed on his own and Jason's heart sunk when he realised his friend was looking for a far more detailed explanation than that. In order to give his mouth something else to do besides speak, Jason spooned some stew into his mouth and made an obvious show of eating.

"This is delicious," he mumbled around chewing. Pythagoras beamed at his response.

"And I trust you're behaving yourself?" Hercules barked, pointing his spoon at him. Jason gripped his own spoon a little tighter and bit his tongue. If his behaviour was scrutinised and monitored any more closely, the young man was likely to scream. He pushed the stew around the bottom of his bowl with more force than was strictly necessary.

But he didn't want to insult his friends, either. They only cared and Hercules' comment had not been meant to upset him. Jason knew this and he forced his brain to remember this very important fact and not to listen to the reaction his gut was currently trying to force out of him.

He gave a short nod. "I'm on my best behaviour," he confirmed. "My hair's combed and everything." He made it a point to give Hercules his best, charming smile. Hercules, he noted however, only seemed to narrow his eyes slightly in response. It made the annoyance prickle again inside the boy. What more did he want from him?

"So what's new around here?" Jason asked. He couldn't help but inwardly cringe at how forced the conversation felt. Even Pythagoras blinked in surprise.

"Nothing has changed," he assured his friend, with an easy smile. "Life is very slow here. Hercules drinks at the tavern and stumbles home in the morning."

"In the evening," Hercules cut in, quickly. Jason couldn't help but smile back.

Pythagoras paid their older friend no mind. "And I continue to keep this house in order and tinker away at my latest mathematical theories." He paused, his eyes flaring up for a moment. "Did you know, Jason, the palace has such wonderful archives? They are truly one of the greatest marvels of our time. The libraries that are said to be contained within those walls!" The young man sighed longingly, resting his chin on his hand and his eyes almost glazed over. Jason felt his smile fade. "I don't suppose you've seen them yet, have you?" Pythagoras asked, eagerly, leaning more towards him.

Jason shifted uncomfortably, swirling the spoon around the sides of the bowl and turning the stew into soup. The young man gave another awkward shrug. "Not yet," he mumbled quietly, looking down to the table. "There's a lot of places there that I'm still not allowed to go." The boy suddenly gave a short, mocking laugh: "If it's as precious as you say it is, I doubt they'll want the likes of me anywhere near it."

A silence fell over the table, like a blanket. Jason gave up clattering the spoon around the edges of the bowl and just laid it down instead. Pythagoras gave an uncomfortable smile and Jason sighed heavily at his own stupidity. How like him to kill the mood as quickly as it had begun.

The dark-haired young man looked up to see his friend looking at him warmly, sincerely. "I'm sure that's not true," Pythagoras assured him.

Jason tried to smile back. "Can we not talk about the palace?" he asked, aiming for casual. "I'd rather just concentrate on being back here. On our normal life. If you don't mind?" For a moment, Jason was afraid that he had managed to insult his young friend. Pythagoras seemed to be searching his face for something, his keen eyes seeing things that Jason could only imagine.

But the blonde genius simply nodded. "Of course. I was thinking we should take a walk down to the beach tomorrow morning. Maybe pack something for lunch? It's been so long since I've walked along the shore and the weather is too sublime to spend it indoors."

Jason grinned back. "Are there any rock-pools?" he wondered. "I used to love poking around in them when I was young."

"As long as you don't go falling in them," Hercules remarked, dryly. Jason rolled his eyes, sorely tempted to point out that that was more Hercules' style than his.

"Yes. Lots," Pythagoras answered. "I was quite keen on sketching the fascinating creatures that dwelt within them." He was suddenly lost in a thoughtful look. "Parchment is not cheap and I generally like to keep it for my triangles…but I must confess that I am tempted to sit and try to classify the specimens we find." He sat up a little straighter and Jason and Hercules tried not to grin at the wave of enthusiasm that appeared to have engulfed their young companion. "You know, aside from the beautiful congruence of triangles, the infinite variety of nature is perhaps one of the gods' greatest gifts to us."

Hercules firmly shook his head. "Wine. That's the greatest gift, followed closely by pies. Nature is just a pleasant afterthought in which a man might sit and drink wine and eat pies." He wiped the last chunk of bread around his bowl, mopping up the final juices of the stew and devoured it, hungrily. Pythagoras tried not to grimace at the loud chewing noises and the stains of food over Hercules' chin and shirt. Honestly, it was like eating with an over-eager toddler at times.

Pythagoras folded his arms, squarely and raised a challenging eyebrow to Hercules. "What about the women?"

"I'm impressed you've remembered them, Pythagoras. I admit, they come in a very close third – ah! Those curves." A slow smile spread over his face.

Pythagoras smiled, patiently. "No. I meant man's greatest pleasure is wine and pies. So what is a woman's?"

Hercules returned his look, uncomprehending. "She makes the pies," he clarified, emphatically. "Honestly, there can be no greater gift for her."

Jason snorted in response and was rewarded by a pointed clearing of the throat by his older friend. "Speaking of the delights of eating, I'd like to see a little more from you in that respect as well, please." He reached out a meaty finger and tapped Jason's nearly full bowl of thoroughly stirred-up stew.

Jason glanced down to where the liquid sloshed a little too close to the edges of the bowl, his body tensing at the tone he clearly heard. He took a deep breath and turned to Pythagoras, ignoring Hercules and the big man's blossoming frown. "It's really good, Pythagoras," he started. "But I'm a bit tired. Will it re-heat on the stove for later?"

His friend gave him a quizzical look but after a few seconds, he smiled and nodded.

"Of course. Let me put it back in the pot." He moved to slide the bowl away from Jason but the movement was suddenly halted by the barrier of Hercules' hand.

"I'm sure you could manage a couple of mouthfuls," he informed Jason, his voice quiet but with a definite firmness lacing his words. "Maybe a bit of bread, too." Jason pressed his lips together tightly, as Hercules continued.

"You'll need some food in you after that wine – it's strong stuff," he tried, cajolingly. "A bit more before you leave the table." Suddenly Jason pushed backwards, scraping his stool against the floor.

"Just stop it!" he demanded, glaring hotly at Hercules. "I've had enough!" Pythagoras gaped, wide-eyed at him but Jason either didn't notice his friend's reaction or he didn't care. Hercules just stared grimly at him as Jason continued, his voice rising. "I've had three days of people telling me what I can do and what I can't do: what I can wear, where I can walk, what I can say!" He paused for a moment, his breath starting to come out in harsh gasps. Pythagoras swallowed past a lump in his throat, itching to interrupt but sensing that Jason needed to speak. "I can't turn around without somebody passing judgment on me and telling me what to do and I'm sick to bloody death of it!"

The dark-haired boy's eyes shone brightly and though his following words were spoken more quietly, they were no less strangled and wrought: "I don't need this from my friends, too." Then, abruptly, he stood and left the room, disappearing through the doorway to the balcony. Hercules watched him go with hard, wary eyes. He made to follow but Pythagoras held up a forestalling hand.

"I'll go," he insisted quietly, rising to follow their friend. When he arrived on the balcony, concern for Jason radiating from his expression, he found the young man sitting on the floor, back leaning against the wall and his head bowed to his chest. His arms were shaking, ever so slightly Pythagoras noted.

"Jason?" he asked softly, aware that the boy knew he was there. He came to stand beside him. Jason turned his head in his direction, though he did not look up.

Instead, the young man took a deep, shaky breath. "I'm sorry," he breathed and then bowed his chin back down to his chest. Taking that as an invitation to stay, Pythagoras silently slid down against the wall, until he was seated next to him.

"It's alright."

"No. It's not. You guys shouldn't have heard all that. It wasn't meant for you."

"We're your friends, Jason," Pythagoras insisted, quietly. "It should have been meant for us." But Jason shook his head, sadly. Footsteps stopped a little way behind them, indicating that although Hercules had followed, he was content, for the time being at least, to let Pythagoras do the talking. The young mathematician turned slightly to see the beefy man lean against the doorframe, his arms folded across his chest. A deep, heavyset frown marred the older man's forehead.

Also sensing the other man's presence, Jason turned to glance over his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Hercules." He turned back to Pythagoras, eyes still shining and swallowing back the pain in his throat. "It's just that I've never been so controlled in my life and I just need here to be normal." His hazel eyes implored his friend. "You know? Everything is starting to get so crazy and what I really need is for this place," he gestured around them all with both hands, "to stay the same." He closed his eyes and leant his head back until it rested against the wall. Pythagoras took the opportunity to take a quick survey of the pale, drawn features, the darkening circles under his eyes. "I need to know that when I come home, I'm leaving all that behind me."

When a warm hand rested on Jason's shoulder, the young man opened his eyes and looked in to the caring expression of his friend. The warmth from the contact made him smile and ache for more. "We don't want to control you, Jason," Pythagoras began, causing Jason to faintly blush. But the young genius carried on before a protest could be formed.

"I realise things must be very different there and I don't want to pry if you'd rather not talk about it. At least, I hope you will soon. But not right now, maybe. But please believe that we aren't trying to be controlling – we just want to make sure that you're alright." He gave a soft, embarrassed laugh. "You know I worry. And Hercules likes to fuss. It keeps him busy."

"I know," Jason agreed, his voice quiet but finally starting to sound more at peace.

Behind them, Hercules muttered something under his breath. Not hearing what it was, the boys decided it was best left alone. Instead, Pythagoras gently elbowed Jason in the ribs. "Can we say that this is all behind us now then and begin your day again?"

Jason smiled, shyly. "I'd appreciate it if we could forget my little meltdown, yes."

Pythagoras grinned and draped an arm lightly across his shoulders. "Then why don't we go for a nice walk?" he suggested. "Maybe stop by the tavern on the way home?" He was relieved and rewarded by his friend giving a grateful nod.

"That sounds great. Thanks." Pythagoras smiled and pushed himself up standing.

"I'm going to fetch my money pouch. I can see us being the ones who are buying the rounds."

As he moved past Hercules, however, the larger man snagged his arm. Sighing, Pythagoras had suspected this was coming and wasn't surprised when he was neatly pulled over to the side, out of earshot of the boy on the balcony.

"What good, exactly, did that little talk do?"

Pythagoras gently shook his head. "This is obviously a bad day for him. Just be patient and try not to push." He carefully extracted his arm from Hercules' grip and patted him on the shoulder. The older man just harrumphed before turning on his heel and stalking to his bed. Pythagoras watched him go and sighed, hoping the rest of Jason's three days would proceed more smoothly.

That's it for now! Don't worry – not all the chapters are that long, but I wanted to end it in a certain place. I hope people didn't mind wading through it, too much. As always, I would very much like to know what you thought. A couple of words would make my day and spur my writing on! Thank you for reading this far. :-)