Whose Death is it Anyway?

by fyre

Hercules is plagued by dreams as he searches for a way to deal with Iolaus' death

"WHOSE DEATH IS IT ANYWAY?"

by fyre

Prequel to Home Is Where the Heart Is, Or How Hercules Got His Groove Back

by Kimberley Rector and Martha Wells Wilson

I was fortunate to be allowed to help write a very small portion of this incredible massive alternate Season 5 story arch. For the whole series go to the Less than Legendary Journeys website

http://www.rtis.com/nat/user/chimera/legends.htm

Story arch order (roughly)

1)"Whose Death is it Anyway?"

2) Home is Where the Heart Is

3) Legacy

3.5) Walking Back from Persepolis

4) Home is the Hunter

5) The Perils of Perseus

6) Dark Hunt

Also in this Universe check out:

Norse by Norsewest

When Hellmouths Collide (Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Hercules TLJ crossover)

FEEDBACK: a_sayyar2118@hotmail.com

TEASER: Hercules is plagued by dreams as he searches for a way to deal with Iolaus' death

ARCHIVE: Less than Legendary Journeys http://www.rtis.com/nat/user/chimera/legends.htm Everyone else please ask.

TIME LINE/CATEGORY: Season 5 Alternate Universe. Set after "Descent"

RATING: PG-13 Some language.

DISCLAIMER: No major plot-lines, characters, setting, or major events alluded to in this story are mine in any way. No money is being made off this story. Please ask author before reproducing or posing anywhere else.

NOTES: I'm dyslexic so any grammar or spelling mistakes that got by I humbly apologize for. Either that or they are intentional for sake of higher semantic meaning, syntax be hanged! I don't believe people think or talk in perfectly grammatical sentences so deal. grin

NOTES: This story is in fact a prequel to a great post-Dahak tale with a wonderful ending I had some ideas for the intermittent months only referred to briefly in the tale, and Martha Wells Wilson and Kimberley Rector were gracious enough to let me write this story. It grew from their story and my prequel to a massive story arch which I am honored to be a part of. My eternal thanks to Martha and Kimberley for allowing me to share with them. Be sure to check out their website and read more!

****

"The death of One, is the death of all, but we will fear no evil for in death there is rebirth and in rebirth, salvation."

--Resurrection

*****************

PROLOGUE

Strong hands gripped the soggy rigging, dragging the unwilling body higher and higher, throwing it into the crows nest uncaringly.

Angry, hopeless eyes glared up at the storm-darkened sky, rain pouring down tortured features, rain or tears, no one was there to tell.

"I won't fight you anymore!" the rough voice cried out above the roar of the sea. "Do you hear me? You can destroy the world if you want! I don't care!" Laughter, devoid of all joy escaped his lips as he flung his arms over his head as the ship pitched precariously. "I DON'T CARE!"

With a jolt, the craft dropped over a dozen meters in one stomach clenching movement and he was thrown from the crows nest with a cry of despair to land with a grunt amid coarse rain-soaked rope strewed carelessly on the deck. "It should have been me!" he moaned to the sky trying to banish images of death and burial from his mind. The unfeeling chuckle forced its way out again as he turned himself over to lie helpless on his back. "It should have been *me*!" he mourned with a pain-filled smile on his face, eyes closing. "It should have been me!"

"Herc, hey Herc!" a distant voice called above the storm.

He shook his head trying to dislodge the sound that echoed in his ears. *This isn't real* his mind protested with a desperation born of grief as he felt a painful clenching in his heart. *Don't listen.*

"Hercules, wake up! C'mon buddy, wake up!" Someone was shaking him now and he had no choice but to open his eyes if only that they would stop, whoever it was.

*Don't think of who, don't think of who it could possibly be.* he warned himself. *You can't take this, you just *can't* . . .*

He opened his eyes and stared into familiar, impossibly familiar eyes. Young eyes, he realized with a start. Years, *decades* younger. Sitting up quickly, Hercules grasped hold of his best friend's arms and stared at him, gaping.

It was Iolaus! Or at least a shade of him. An Iolaus who couldn't be more than eighteen years old with impossibly wild hair tucked behind his ears, his ever-present amulet missing along with that old patchwork vest his wife had made, had yet to make for him.

Hercules looked down at himself and found that he was bone dry and in the wrong body. Drawing in an uneven breath he squeezed his eyes tight shut.

*I'm going mad. There's no other explanation. I'm gone stark raving mad!*

"Herc!" Iolaus or whoever it was pressed, voice concerned now. "Herc, what's wrong?"

Finally gathering enough strength and courage to peek through one eye he considered himself and his friend for a long moment before letting out a hopeless sigh. "I'm dreaming." he whispered, flopping back bonelessly on his bedroll.

*Not a bedroll* he insisted to himself *but the hard planks of Nebula's ship where it's raining and I'm soaking wet.*

"No, you're not." Iolaus countered shaking him again. "You *were* dreaming, yelling your head off and--and . . . crying."

Hercules reached up and touched the unbearded skin of youth on his cheeks and found them wet with salty tears.

*Not tears, the sea, the sea spray splashing in your face.*

"Herc what's wrong? Talk to me." Iolaus pleaded and Hercules had to pay attention to his friend. He couldn't bear to hear the sadness in his brother's voice, even if it was only a hallucination.

"I--I'm having a bad dream, that's all, Iolaus." Hercules wondered what surprised him more, the utter calm voice that said those words or the voice itself, young the way it had been years ago.

"Must've been some dream," the hunter said carefully, stirring up the fire from where he sat next to Hercules.

"No." The demigod sat up suddenly, grabbing his friend by the shoulders hard. "I didn't have a dream! I *am* having a dream! I'm dreaming right now!" his voice rose hysterically "You're not real, by the gods how I wish you were, but you're not real!"

Iolaus' eyes widened in horror at his friend's words. He twisted under Hercules' iron grasp. "Herc, calm down, you're hurting me."

He let go quickly, running his hands through his hair, giggling when he realized how short it was, how light.

"Hercules," Iolaus began carefully, voice very soft. "This isn't a dream, I'm right here, you're right here. We're only a few leagues from the Academy, hunting, remember?"

"Sure," he laughed humorlessly, slapping his friend lightly on the back. "Sure Iolaus, whatever you say."

Iolaus rose to his feet and stood watching and studying his friend in the firelight. Finally, warily, he spoke. "You're not Herc. I--I mean you are Hercules," he quickly explained, raising his hands in defense "but . . . you're not. Who are you?"

The question was not angry or terror-filled, but curious tinged with worry.

It pulled at something deep within the demigod until he wanted so very very badly to believe he was really here, sitting by the fire with his childhood friend and not on Nebula's ship having an incredibly vivid

dream.

He decided to answer truthfully. *Hades, why not? It's all in my head anyway.* "I'm what your friend will be years from now, and at the moment I'm dreaming about my past in the middle of a storm."

The hunter blinked, digesting the totally deadpan explanation. "You're the--the future Herc?" Iolaus squeaked and Hercules silently suppressed a grin at the all to familiar sound his own addled mind was sending him. "I gotta sit down," Iolaus said with a gulp as he practically fell back and nearly into the fire, had not Hercules shot out a hand to help him.

*Why save a dream?* his mind whispered. *You didn't save him in reality.*

"The *future*?"

Hercules turned his attention back to his partner suddenly and nodded. "Uh-huh."

"What's it like?" Iolaus asked with an eager smile on his face. "Is Jason king? Do you meet your father? Do you still know me? Well obviously!" he told himself, hitting his forehead at his own stupidity. "You're having dreams about me!"

Almost instinctively, the old familiar words pulled themselves from his lips without him thinking about it, thinking about the insane fact that he was talking with a figment of his imagination. "Of course I know you. We're friends, best friends. I wasn't about to loose the best fighting partner I've ever had!"

"Well, do we go out and do all those great things together like you always talked about?"

Hercules felt the icy cold hand that had been squeezing his heart for days now beginning to ease its grip ever so faintly. "Yes, we do. We travel all over helping people, being . . . heroes."

The word felt like ashes in his mouth, ashes of the dead.

"Really?" Iolaus asked, disbelieving, raised eyebrow and all. "And no one cares that I'm a thief, well, ex-thief?"

"Why would they? You're the best hunter and tracker in all of Greece. You fight like a one man army!" Hercules countered, unreasonably angry at the blonde's self-defeating thoughts.

"Yeah, I guess I'd have to keep up and be useful with the strongest man on earth as my partner," Iolaus replied ruefully, not sensing the anger in the demigod as he brushed back his golden curls from his face.

"D--don't say it like that!" Hercules spat, nearly in tears. "Don't!"

"What? What's wrong?" Iolaus asked in bewilderment.

Hercules stood quickly and began to pace back and forth. "Don't put yourself down like that. You've fought more monsters, rescued more villages and saved more lives than anyone! You never have to prove your usefulness to me in a fight!" he reiterated, stopping to poke his friend in the chest. "I need you, Iolaus. I--I'm like half a man without you, less than nothing. You're like a brother to me!" His voice broke and he felt the urge to laugh and cry all at the same time. Instead he sank to his knees before what he knew could only be a specter and spoke those words he had never said in life. Words that were in his every glance, every action, but never spoken. Until now, until it was too late. "I would gladly die so that you could live, and even in that I'm selfish, because I couldn't bear to live without you."

"Herc . . ." Iolaus began, ducking his head and staring into the fire for a long moment. "Herc, in the future? Am--am I . . . ?"

*Don't say it. Don't say it!* Hercules silently pleaded, closing his eyes and holding his breath. *Saying makes it real. Don't say it.*

"No!" the demigod cut quickly into the silence before the dreaded word crossed between them. "We've been separated . . . temporarily," he explained quickly.

*Hey, denial's cool. It's all internal, no one else is here. Wherever here is. He doesn't need to hear this. And neither do you.*

"Battle, war, gods." Hercules forced a smile "Too many people need our help in too many places. Maybe that's what brought me here, to the past." he rationalized, rising to his feet and looking around in the darkness. "I miss him--" he glanced down at the youthful shadow of his brother and smiled "--*you* so much. Even though sometimes you drive me crazy with those nutty plans of yours and wild fights . . . I wouldn't live any other way."

*I can't live any other way. I won't.*

Iolaus smiled shyly, touched by the words. "Brothers, huh?" he extended his arm.

"Brothers." Hercules replied, grasping it tightly, his heart swelling with feelings he couldn't find words to give true credit to. Words paled in the face of this.

"Cool. Fighting back to back, battlefield heroes, dying together, right?" Iolaus clarified as he stood, reiterating an oath given so very long ago, with a glorious smile that was known to put the sun to shame.

"Yeah . . . " Something was stinging his eyes, (*seawater*) There was something in his throat as he forced the words out with such physical effort he broke a sweat. "Right."

"So tell me something buddy, do I get any taller?" Iolaus asked in a confidential whisper as he slapped his friend on the back. Hercules blinked, the despair evaporating, replaced with glee again with such speed it made him dizzy.

"Maybe a little," Hercules teased offhandedly, before grinning. "Yeah, you do!"

"Taller than you?" Iolaus pressed

"Um . . . " Hercules pretended to consider this for a long moment before joining his partner laughing.

"Okay, okay, I guess I was hoping for too much there," the hunter admitted throwing up his hands in defeat. "You feeling well enough to sleep now?"

The demigod snorted derisively as he sat back down on his bedroll. "Iolaus, I *am* asleep."

"Suure you are. I'm just some weird dream you're having," the blond said sarcastically as he straightened his blankets. "You'll be gone in the morning, or maybe I'll be gone."

"No," Hercules denied softly in the darkness, clutching his blankets tightly.

"Huh?"

"No, I'm not going anywhere, and neither are you." Hopelessness and fear filled his voice as he shook his head, tears welling up in his eyes. He couldn't *do* this! He couldn't just feel these highs and lows and then wake up! He couldn't just have it all again only to loose it!

Iolaus crept over to his friend and crouched down next to him, blue eyes wide with concern as he placed a strong hand comforting on the demigod's shoulder. "Herc, I'm right here. Can't you feel it?"

"Can't you feel it?"

With agonizing slowness, muscles contracted and he dragged himself along the damp sand. Every breath he took in reluctantly, every inch he despised, every heartbeat he railed against.

It wasn't real, none of this was real. His mind was just torturing him, and he was helpless to prevent it.

*Not that I would if I could. It's the least I deserve, after--after everything I've done.*

Forcing himself up onto his elbows, he rolled himself over onto his back with a thump that expelled a sudden, unexplained laugh from him. *I'll just stay here. Stay here and never move again, never dream again, never hurt anyone again.*

*--Can't you feel it?--* the words whispered in his ear again.

With a shudder he slowly got up, refusing to listen. It was unbearably painful to even think those words again. *Forget the dream, forget it!*

He rose to his feet and for the first time noticed he had an audience watching him from the grassy bluff above the wet packed sand. They were strangely dressed in earth tones of brown and green as if to conceal themselves in the very land around them. But there his curiosity died, he didn't care if these people were cannibals or birdwatchers, they did not want to be around him.

"Blessed be the earth, the wind and the sea for their gift of salvation!"

The words floated down to meet him on the wind and he set his jaw, grinding his teeth. *They better not be talking about me.*

"Blessed be!" the rest of the people chorused and they began to nimbly descend the slope with practical ease he'd witnessed a thousand times from another hunter not too long ago.

He blocked it out. He couldn't go around thinking things like that! he scolded himself.

The man spoke to him, but he ignored the words. *Not for me, they don't mean me. They're looking for someone, some thing that doesn't exist! They must think I'm some sort of foreign rat exterminator they've been expecting. They're not looking for some champion. They're just giving their traditional greeting to a stranger before they eat him or marry him to someone* he babbled internally, rationalizing away the man, the people, the words, the whole damn beach, until--

"You are the Chosen One."

Hercules turned and really looked at the man before him. Looked into his eyes and saw conviction, and hope.

*Oh Shit!*

"From the Earth comes a promise of new life.

From the Wind, our souls are passed.

From Fire, darkness is turned to Light,

and from the seas, a Hero is reborn."

--Resurrection

"Optimism Hercules, is the shield of fools."

--Redemption

*****************

I.

"Hercules. Hercules."

The voice tugged at him, its familiar lilt reminding him of Eyre, of the Druids, now dead along with everything else. "Hercules."

He opened his eyes slowly and saw Morrigan's face waver into being, concerned, anxious, caring. He'd seen that look a hundred times on someone else's features, someone else . . .

He realized he was lying in her arms and slowly began to rise to his feet, taking in his surroundings. The temple of Dahak, rededicated to that--that thing in his friend's body. The body . . .

He glanced behind him at the altar where the demon had been held captive with the light from the Creation Stone and found it deserted of its former occupant. Nebula leaned against it, arms crossed tightly, a faint smile on her lips.

Morrigan was helping him to his feet, steadying him. The pirate queen stepped forward to help.

"Everything okay?" she asked cautiously.

He smiled, clutching desperately at the faint ghost of Illumination still within him. It was his only hope from drowning, he knew that. Drowning in what, he didn't know.

"Everything's fine." he assured her as he let the two women lead him out of the deserted temple.

They walked through the marketplace that was filled with dazed and confused people. They didn't know what had happened exactly, it was all like some dream that vanished if they didn't speak about it. They turned to Hercules, no longer in fear, but with questions, with concerns, but he would not hear them now, could not.

Like a mantra he simply repeated, "You're safe, it's all taken care of. You're safe."

They walked back to Jason's in silence. Hercules wondered why he expected words. *I mean at a time like this, shouldn't we be . . . I don't know . . . DOING something? Grieving? Celebrating? What?*

*Iolaus would know, if he were here,* Hercules realized suddenly. That's what he'd almost unconsciously been waiting for; his friend to jump in with a joke or an appropriate comment or--or something! *Iolaus would know just what mood to set after our victory, or is it a defeat?*

*Numb,* Hercules finally put a word to his emptiness as he stumbled up the porch. *I'm completely numb. I just can't believe it's over.* Jason opened the door, hand, Hercules noted, bandaged carefully. The argonaut gazed at the three of them for a moment, learning more from their expressions than any words.

"It's over." It wasn't a question but a statement.

"Gee Jason," Hercules poked caustically before he could stop himself. "What gave it away, the fact that the world is still here?"

Jason's eyes hardened for a moment at the words before he moved aside to let them in. Hercules shook his head at the lack of response, wanting, needing *someone* to tell him to shut up, to stop acting like a jerk, to throw him a disgusted look.

But neither one of them would, he could see it in their expressions of concern, worry, pity. . .

*I don't need this!* he snarled to himself as he forced his way past Jason without another word and stomped up to his room.

He opened the door with such fierceness he practically ripped off the hinges. He plowed into the room but suddenly stopped short at the sight that filled his eyes. It was the same room it had always been, same furniture, same blankets, perhaps a little bigger. This had been his place for as long as he could remember. He'd simply forgotten how he used to share it with Iolaus.

*How could I forget?*

The other bed pressed up against the wall, beneath the window where the purple rays of sunset shot through the place, filling it with an unearthly glow. The same bed he'd helped his mother put there years and years ago when Iolaus used to sleep over. He spent so much time here, it was practically his second home. Alcmene had realized that and simply left the bed, always made up with fresh sheets just in case Iolaus dropped by. And he had. A lot. So much so that this wasn't just "Hercules' room," it was "the Boys room" to his mother and to Jason and to anyone else who knew him and Iolaus.

Hercules let the door slowly close behind him as he took a few hesitant steps towards the familiar piece of furniture. Like above his bed, childhood drawings were stuck to the walls next to the window. The toys had been removed from the room, given to Hercules' own children so very long ago, but Alcmene had not wanted to remove the pictures. She had loved them and had insisted they stay no matter how old her "sons" got.

So above his bed was a crude picture of horses in a field and another that was supposedly him and his mother, which Iolaus used to tease him about, saying it was probably the only time he was ever shorter than his mother, shorter than anyone and the record just *had* to be preserved.

There were no pictures of family above Iolaus' bed. No pictures of his father or his mother. *Gods, I have to tell them about Iolaus. He'll need a funeral, a memorial. Oh gods! The body!* Hercules suddenly remembered as if being struck by lightning.

*Later,* something whispered soothingly. *Later.*

Hercules reached out carefully and touched the brittle parchment. Pictures of him and Iolaus fishing or running, or wrestling, that's what his friend had drawn. He sank to his knees beside the bed and shook his head.

They were pictures of family after all. The family Iolaus had chosen for himself, a family that actually cared about him, and he repaid them with loyalty unmatched.

*Even when he knew it was wrong.* Something stabbed Hercules deep inside.*Even when he was uncertain about the whole damn trip, he still came, he still followed. He didn't even complain! Even I did that!*

The demigod thought back to that crazy trip Iolaus had led him on. No destination, simply north. He had whined and doubted and questioned his friend the whole way. He had assumed sickness, fever, a bump on the head, immortals controlling him, and even when Iolaus had tried to explain it to him, he still had not trusted.

Iolaus, however, had trusted him. Trusted him with his life.

"And I killed you." Hercules whispered into the silence of the room.

*Herc, I'm right here. . . *

*--Can't you feel it?--*

All the words, all the light and balance that Maven had once again given back to him vanished like a puff of smoke.

*"It takes strength to grieve,"* the druid had told him

*Then I must really be the strongest man in the world, because I don't think I'll ever truly stop.* With a strangled cry, Hercules threw himself onto his bed, not bothering to take off even his boots, and buried his head into the bedclothes, soon salt-soaked as if they too were caught in that sudden storm off the coast of Eyre.

And then the dreams began again.

"I have to go find . . . something that looks like Iolaus."

--Let There be Light

**********************

II.

They pulled up chairs around the old table, wood smooth and warm to the touch as if it were still a tree, still alive.

They waited together, straining for some sound from above, some sound from their friend. But none came after the shutting of the door. None.

Jason poured unwatered wine for the two women who drank appreciatively. It had been a long day. Several long days in fact and sleep hadn't recently been on anyone's agenda.

"I'm surprised he hasn't broken anything yet." Jason broke the silence after he sipped his wine slowly, thinking how easy it would be to loose himself in it again after the hellish year he'd had. He put the cup down and added water to it. "When--when his wife and children were killed he tore up his entire house and chucked rocks at anyone who came near him."

Morrigan blinked at the argonaut's words. She had known that Hercules had had a family and had lost them, but she didn't realize that he had taken it so badly.

"He dinnae hurt anyone, did he?" she asked cautiously.

"No. He wanted to destroy his stepmother's temples for what she had done, wanted revenge more than anything."

The redhead drained her cup in thought. "What stopped him then?"

"Iolaus." Nebula replied as if in that one word was a world of explanations. She fingered the rim of the cup idly, eyes distant but dry. The one-time pirate queen tipped her chair back, balancing artfully.

"Believe it or not, Hercules doesn't usually act the way he's been acting. He's much easier to get along with, patient, good-natured . . ."

"And he wasn't one to make constant side comments to himself, just loud enough for others to hear," Jason added with a mirthless laugh. He rose to his feet, suddenly sick of the smell of wine and without thought smashed the whole bottle in the empty water basin, watching and remembering how much blood was like dark wine. "It's almost as if he's holding a conversation with Iolaus, expecting him to reply."

Morrigan snorted in anger and denial. "Hercules is nae going mad!"

"Of course not." Nebula agreed, still not looking at any one of them. "I oughta know." A wolf's smile spread across her face, hardly a happy look. She set her chair back down on all four legs with a thump and rose to her feet. "I'm going to bed," she informed Jason and then vanished into the next room.

Morrigan watched her go and then stared long and hard at Jason who had yet to turn around, had yet to stop staring at the broken winejug. Suppressing a sigh, she too stood up. "G'night Jason," she offered softly.

But Jason wasn't listening. Jason was thinking of a scrawny kid with uncombed hair standing on the Academy roof, sword in hand, screaming defiantly at the sky for the gods to come down and fight him, fight him for killing his best friend. He almost wished Hercules would be so violent; that he could handle; not this distance, this otherworldliness the demigod now wore like a shroud.

There was a sudden thump on the roof above him and Jason looked up as he heard and felt someone walk above him. Moving away from the water basin he pulled back the curtains and blew out the candle so that he could stare out into the darkness. He watched carefully as Hercules practically fell off the roof, landing not quite on his feet, stumbling, before walking off towards the nearby trees that shaded the house in the summer and protected it in the winter.

Jason didn't have to watch to know where the demigod was going. In fact he'd almost be worried if Hercules *hadn't* gone. Still he watched as the strongest man on earth tramped through the grass and flowers, stopping only to run a gentle hand across the marker of his mother's grave before he dragged himself up into the old treefort that had been as much a part of Alcmene's house as the garden.

As Hercules disappeared inside it, Jason let the curtains fall closed and grief descend again. Grief for his beloved wife Alcmene, for his lost children, for tortured Medea, and for Glauce. And grief for a cock-sure young cadet who had charmed the whole known world with a single golden smile.

They were eating breakfast when Hercules came into the kitchen. They knew better than to stare at him, or ask stupid questions. Jason merely nodded in his direction as he tossed his stepson a plate. Hercules sat down slowly and stared at the food laid out on the table.

*Breakfast. What an utterly normal thing to do.*

He considered toasting his bread for a long moment. *What was that old saying?* he wondered vaguely. *If you're dreaming, you can wake up and make toast, but If you're dead, you can't taste it.*1

They probably would have eaten in silence had not Nebula, uncaring as ever of feelings and tact, jumped in feet first. "I'm going back to Sumeria."

Hercules grabbed a slice of bread, refusing to toast it and find out, and some cheese and ripped open a pomegranate. "When are you leaving?" he asked simply, surprised after all he'd seen in his mind last night that his voice didn't waver or break.

*Don't think about that. Don't!*

"Probably head for the ship and leave with the evening tide. Unless . . ."

"Unless what?"

Nebula looked the demigod squarely in the eye, not flinching, not backing down. "Unless you need me for anything."

Hercules seemed to consider this for a moment before shaking his head. "No. I'm only planning to send out a couple of messages, go visit Iolaus' mother, grandmother, Niobe, Xena and Gabrielle,

Autolycus . . . a few people . . . let them know what happened."

He felt, not saw Morrigan touch his arm gently. "Would ye mind some company?"

"Sure. You can come, Jason too, if you want." Hercules agreed blankly gesturing with his fruit at his friend.

Jason nodded slowly. "I'd like to come."

"Great, then it's settled." Hercules nodded his approval before returning to his meal.

Nebula thanked Jason quietly.

"If you're ever in Greece again, come by, you're always welcome."

She smiled. "I will." The Queen turned and clasped wrists with Morrigan. "Thanks for your help too. You're a good person to have around in a fight."

"Likewise," Morrigan replied with a nod and a smile. "I wish ye luck in rulin' yer kingdom. I'm sure ye'll make a fine Queen."

"Thank you."

Nebula released her grip and stepped out onto the porch where the demigod stood, leaning, arms crossed against a convenient post, staring out into the garden. Coming to stand beside him and lowering her head for a moment, Nebula undid her belt pouch and pressed it into Hercules' hand.

"You carry it." she said simply. "As much as we loved each other, he loved you more. You were his family, his purpose, his brother. Even if he'd lived, even if he'd stayed in Sumeria, it wouldn't have been for long."

Hercules' hand tightened around the leather of the pouch, instantly recognizing the familiar shape.

"I'm . . . sorry."

"Don't be." Nebula countered, dismissing his apology with a wave of her hand. "We did have something, we always will. He . . . died for me. My brother killed him." he voice broke and Hercules could have hit himself for forgetting how hard it must be for Nebula to live with the fact that her own flesh and blood betrayed her and tried to kill her. Nebula's dark hand wrapped around his clenched one and squeezed just for a moment. "I loved him," she whispered, and then let go and stepped down into the garden

and wound her way to the gate.

Hercules watched as she raised her hand in farewell before walking forward, straight and tall, never looking back.

"Are you surprised by my appearance?"

"Nothing surprises me anymore."

--Resurrection

*****************

III.

Hercules woke slowly, nose twitching at the smell of food. He had to admit that the Other Iolaus was an incredible cook, not to mention inventor, storyteller, and acrobat.

Yawning mightily and shaking away whatever cobwebs remained from yet another night of disturbing dreams, he sat up slowly to find himself alone by the campfire; the Other Iolaus missing.

"Iolaus?" he called, disturbing the morning bird song. Breakfast was already laid out. Perhaps the jester had simply headed down to the lake for a morning swim. Hercules knew better than to intrude. If it had been his old friend, he wouldn't have thought twice. But this man was not his childhood companion. And Hercules knew that just like every time he looked at the man he saw his dead friend, the jester saw the Sovereign; homicidal, brutal maniac who'd tortured and humiliated him for years.

*Not the best foundations to build a friendship on.*

He rubbed his eyes distractedly, ordering his mind to focus on the here and now and caught sight of a scribbled note placed carefully to one side. Heart clenching, Hercules reached for it and unfolded it slowly.

"I want to thank you for all that you've given me.

The opportunity, the freedom, for which I will always

call you friend. But like you said, I have my own life

to live out of the shadows of both your past and mine.

I'll be around, don't be surprised if you see me settled

somewhere or me showing up for another crazy adventure.

I'll be sure to invite you for the wedding.

After all, I'll need a best man.

Iolaus."

Hercules stared at the words for a long moment, not sure what he should feel. He hadn't been trying to replace his friend when he'd brought back the other man from the alternate world. And this wasn't good-bye. Iolaus just wasn't a warrior or a fighter. In a fight he was one more thing Hercules had to worry about, and worry he did. Constantly. He just knew that if anything happened to this man he'd snap. *That is unless I already haven't.*

The Other knew that, he could feel it in his writing, just as he could picture the expressions: the pained look, the smile as he wrote it. And he was right.

*Of course he's right! Iolaus is, was always right. Both of them can see straight through you!*

He got to his feet slowly, tucking the note gently into Nebula's beltpouch that hung at his waist. He could make out the tracks of the other man, leading back the way they came. It would be so easy to follow . . .

"You should let him go. You both need to find your way in this world and seeing constant reminders, strange yet similar, will not help."

Hercules didn't bother to turn around. He knew who was there, and while it was unexpected, he did not begrudge the visit. "I wasn't trying to replace Iolaus."

"I didn't say you were, son. And you will always have a bond with this man, and he with you. But he cannot follow the path you take, he cannot always be by your side." Zeus sat carefully down on a large rock by the camp where just last night the Other Iolaus had been sitting, fiddling with his incredible inventions.

Hercules turned and looked at his father, anger strangely absent. "Like Iolaus could?"

Zeus nodded slowly, regarding his son with a careful eye.

Hercules sat back down on his bedroll, wondering insanely if this was another dream, another vivid haunting dream that he'd been having steadily since Dahak had been defeated. "Why are you here, father?" he asked cocking one eyebrow at the immortal as he dug into breakfast.

"I'm here to thank you for rescuing us from the Labyrinth of Eternal Memory of the other world," Zeus explained, lifting his hands in a nonchalant shrug.

"You've never thanked me before."

The king of the gods stood and came over to his half mortal son. "I seem to recall someone telling me that if things were to change I'd have to take the first steps." He reached out and grabbed a bite of whatever strange concoction the Other Iolaus had put together. Zeus nodded in appreciation.

"So I'm taking them. Thank you, son."

Hercules put his plate and spoon down, abruptly. "You want to thank me? Bring back Iolaus." He grabbed his father's hand tight in his, eyes pleading, begging, voice breaking. "Give me back my brother."

Zeus quickly glanced away, unwilling, unable to look at the shred of hope he saw clinging desperately to life in his son's blue eyes; wanting to watch it flourish, not be crushed with his refusal. "I--I can't"

"Can't or won't?" Hercules asked simply, for once not outwardly furious at his father, but more resigned. "He wasn't killed by a god, he was killed by some maniac king who I stupidly trusted." He let go of his father's hand and stood face to face with the immortal. "Iolaus warned me not to go, he told me that we didn't know anything about the other gods but I didn't listen. I never even bothered to listen to him."

Zeus placed a gentle hand on his boy's shoulder. "Son, I know this is difficult--"

"Difficult? It doesn't *have* to be difficult!" Hercules shrugged off the grip, words hard as flint "All you have to do is bring him back. You did it for Lyla when the Athenians burned her house down, why can't you do it for Iolaus? Do you hate him for not respecting the gods, for fighting by my side?" he asked, wanting, needing to know why.

Zeus grabbed his son's arms and shook him for a moment, voice commanding and sincere. "Iolaus was a great man, a great hero and of all the mortals on this earth, no one cared for you more. I did everything in my power to bring the two of you at least geographically close to one another since fate had long decreed your bond. I would move heaven and earth for you son, but I can not bring him back."

Hercules laughed. It was not a pleasant sound. "You're a god. The king of the gods, and yet you can't do anything. You've got rules, rules and more rules that you are bound to follow. Who made up those rules father? Who in Tartarus made them up?"

"Son . . ."

"Sometimes I think that all of you are just a bunch of gifted mortals with the same petty dispositions of warring kings," the demigod spat, pulling away, beginning to pace back and forth, throwing his hands up in disgust. "You talk big, but you don't *do* anything!"

He stopped suddenly and looked at his father, who had turned away. Turned away from the truth.

"That's it, isn't it. I'm right!" Hercules grinned and yelled in victory, scaring the nearby birds into flight. "There's something bigger, something so much bigger than you, isn't there father?" He shook his head and laughed again, this was just too funny. "I can't believe it. All this posturing, all the supposed power and you're only what mortals believe you to be, nothing more."

He almost expected his father to blast him for his words, for his "blasphemy," but instead Zeus simply looked old, older and his eyes filled with pain, but not for himself, but for his tortured son.

"You have to let this go, Hercules. It will destroy you if you let it."

Hercules threw up his hands. "Then let it."

"What about Greece, what about the people?" the king of the gods pressed, hoping to talk some sense into his favorite boy.

"I'll help, I'll be here," Hercules replied with a vivacity and a chuckle that reminded his father of the before times, before Iolaus had died, except this was hollow. He knew that. "I'm not going away, I can't deny who and what I am. Maven was right about that much."

"Grieve then, son, grieve and get over the loss. Stop trying to--to bandage and bury it," Zeus ordered. "Let yourself admit the truth, like you did with . . . your family. It was not your fault and there was nothing you could have done! It is no different. It shouldn't be. It's over, Hercules."

He pursed his lips into a thin line, clenching his jaw tight. "No."

"Son . . ."

Hercules ran his hands through his hair and took to pacing again. "No, it's not over, something . . . something is telling, pushing, pulling me, screaming at me! It's not over! Can't--can't you feel it?" The familiar words forced themselves past his lips with an effort that left him utterly drained. He glanced over at the king of the gods and an angry smile broke loose. "I know father, I know! I've no proof! I'm going crazy! I'm going absolutely crazy! I feel like I'm being torn in two, lit on fire and--and being stomped on by hordes of--of elephants. I don't understand! I can't believe this is happening! What is wrong with me!?" he tipped his head back and roared at the sky. When the sound finally died away, the silence that

filled the forest was strangely deafening.

"I can take away the dreams, Hercules. I can make you forget them," Zeus told him quietly.

Hercules' eyes snapped in anger. He sometimes hated the fact that his father could watch him, know his dreams and maybe even his thoughts. But maybe with a wave of his hand he could rid him of these dreams, these dreams he tried so hard to suppress. *No,* something whispered inside him. *no, you need them. Don't let them go!*

It made no sense. None at all! They drove him crazy! He wanted more than anything to be rid of them.

*--Can't you feel it?--*

He shook his head, refusing the offer. "Can you, can you do . . . *anything* else?" he pleaded. *There has to be a way, some way . . .*

"The candle, father or--or the Chronos stone!"

Zeus' reply was harsh. "I told you that was only once, and it caused such a mess."

But Hercules had latched onto that solution tighter than green on olives. "Let me change the past! Let me save him if you can't!"

"In changing the past, Dahak will be free again, all the earth will be at risk," he scolded his son. "Think, Hercules. Think!"

"I don't care."

"You do. You may deny it, but in your heart you do care. It is a blessing of compassion not many gods have, but you do. It comes from your mother. The best things do," he said with a gentle smile of memory. "And from Iolaus who wouldn't want to be alive at the cost of the world."

"But if Dahak doesn't have a warrior heart, if he doesn't have Iolaus he can't enter the world in the first place. If he never even got his blood sacrifice in Britannia he couldn't even influence this world!"

Zeus eyed his son impassively and came to a decision. "How far and how much would you be willing to change?"

Hercules took a few steps closer to his father, the conviction and love in his eyes humbling even to a god. "I would change anything," he began slowly, "anything to keep Iolaus safe and have him by my side again."

"Anything?" Zeus asked cautiously, he had to be sure this is what his son wanted.

"Anything." The pleading hope returned to his eyes even though it had been dashed and crushed so many times before. "Father, please," he whispered.

They regarded each other in silence for a long moment. "The dreams," Zeus finally said. "Dream again, and this time things will be different, this time."

"That--that's it?" Hercules asked, more afraid now than he had been in almost his whole life. *This was too easy, this was too simple.* Who knows what would happen if he meddled with the past. Watching Callisto do it from the pool in the nether realm had been bad enough, what if things went horribly wrong?

"It's what you want, isn't it?" Zeus pressed, breaking him out of his reverie.

"Yes, yes it is." Hercules nodded quickly before his father could change his mind, before common sense would kick in and *he'd* change his mind. This had to be the answer, to the dreams, to the insistent feelings that had plagued him for weeks on end since Dahak's defeat.

Zeus reached out with his hand at Hercules' forehead with a light touch. "Then sleep well, my son, and find peace."

"I thought taking over the known world would make me popular. But nobody likes me for meeeeeee!"

"Don't cry! That's not . . . usually true."

--Stranger and Stranger

"I wish I was a Prince. No one ever gives me rocks."

--The Serpent's Tooth

***************************

IV.

"Hercules?"

*This is getting too damn familiar!* he groused as the world spun and tipped in a variety of nauseating ways.

"Hercules!" Something, a finger poked him in the side. He jumped, and realized he was sitting in a cushioned chair, arms resting regally on the gold inlaid armrests. *Gold?* his mind asked.

"Hercules!"

"Huh? Yes?" he snapped his head around to look at who had woken him -- *I must've dozed off* he guessed -- and came face to face with Iphicles.

"Hercules, the King." Iphicles pointed subtly at the man and party who stood a few steps down from where he sat.

"Oh!" he replied intelligently, and utterly confused as he blinked what could only be sleeping dust from his eyes. He stared down at the man Iphicles had named king and quickly jumped to his feet, jaw slack. He recognized that face more than he did his own! "Uhh . . ." was the only sound that escaped his lips as he tried not to grin too broadly at the sight before him.

It was Iolaus. Dressed to kill in a silky royal blue tunic and soft breeches. On his arm was a beautiful woman with wild auburn hair about half a head taller than him with skin like alabaster. Hercules looked down at himself and realized Iolaus wasn't the only one wearing strange clothes. He was dressed in black breeches and boots. Instead of a customary shirt he work a long sleeveless vest, almost a coat, made of fine Corinthian leather, unadorned.

*This has to be the weirdest dream yet!* Hercules thought shaking his head in bewilderment. *Or is it a dream?* he wondered suddenly with a wild sense of hope and joy he hadn't felt in weeks. *Zeus had said something about dreaming, about changing the past, getting back Iolaus . . . was this it?*

*Time to find some toast.*

"Will you hear his words, My Lord?" an old man, Fedutious his mind immediately recognized in sputtered shock, queried respectfully.

For several seconds, his mouth worked but no words came out. He tried gesturing with his hands but that didn't help much. Finally he snapped his mouth shut and nodded vigorously.

"Very well." Fedutious motioned for the blond to state his case.

Hercules turned his attention eagerly to his friend, bouncing like a schoolchild on his heels in impatience, wanting to do nothing more than rush down the steps and grab his brother and laugh and shout his joy. But the second he opened his mouth to speak, Hercules' heart sank.

"As King of Attica, I, Orestes, give tribute and swear loyalty to you in thanks of your bravery, your courage, and your aide to us in fighting The Destroyer of Nations."

The demigod blinked at the pronouncement. Iolaus had told him Orestes looked like him but this was just plain ridiculous. And what had he said? *Destroyer of Nations? Xena?* he wondered as he sank back into his chair, *no, not chair, throne* his mind corrected. *Is this the past I'm supposed to change? Or is this the changed world? What in Tartarus was going on?* he wondered, completely speechless.

*Iolaus?* He searched the "king's" blue eyes for any spark of his friend, just to make sure. *Didn't Iolaus tell me that Niobe had wanted him to stay and take his cousin's place permanently? Niobe was a vision. Was this man Iolaus?*

*No,* he finally admitted bitterly. *Iolaus isn't here. He SHOULD be here. Wherever here is!* Hercules looked around and immediately recognized the architecture as the throne room in Corinth. How often had he and Iolaus horsed around in here while Jason hurriedly finished off petitions before he could join them for a game of ball? Urgently his eyes sought out the chink in the masonry where Iolaus had gashed his head open that one day when Hercules had tackled him too hard, forgetting his own strength. Iolaus had brushed it off as an accident, but the scar had stayed with his friend his whole life. He was relieved now to see the same dent in the wall. *Even wherever here is, Iolaus has a hard head!*

Fedutious cleared his throat loudly. Obviously Orestes had kept talking while Hercules' head had been spinning. Something about tribute and warriors. Orestes raised his eyebrow now in humorous chagrin awaiting a response. Not only him but a whole hallfull of people, dressed finely but like Hercules, practically, something rare in royalty. Also, he noticed, everyone was wearing weapons openly. *Not a good sign.*

"Hercules," Iphicles hissed, poking him again.

Hercules smiled and almost embarrassed, proffered his hands to Orestes. "Thanks, that's . . . very generous of you, Your Majesty."

"No, thank you." Orestes replied bowing low.

Nervously, Hercules pursed his lips, blush creeping up his neck, before shrugging in bewilderment. "Any time!"

Fedutious banged his ornate staff and Hercules jumped in his seat. "The King's Audience is ended. Does his Highness have anything to add?"

Hercules glanced at the king of Attica, waiting for the blond to say that he did or he didn't have any other business. But Orestes was staring right back at him expectantly. Glancing quickly at Iphicles, Hercules realized that Fedutious was talking about him, *him* when he said Highness.

"Ahhh . . . no. Thank you," he tacked on after a beat.

Fedutious nodded, banged that staff of his again and with that the whole hallfull of people began to disperse, talking to themselves, mingling and generally discussing whatever had been going on.

Hercules sat, gripping his throne -- yes his throne -- wondering if he'd finally snapped when Iphicles tugged on his arm, and motioned with his head to a door that led to the King's anteroom behind the royal dais of Corinth. Quickly, the demigod rose and followed his brother.

Upon inspection, Hercules found that the room hadn't changed much from when he'd last seen it. Same colors, similar furniture, only the thick resplendent rug that had covered the stone floor was oddly absent.

Shutting the door firmly behind him, Iphicles whirled around, sword drawn, eyes wary. "Who in Hades are you?" he demanded.

*Maybe I should have acted like the Sovereign again,* Hercules thought weakly to himself. *Then again, if this is just another bizarre dream, or maybe Zeus did pull through . . .*

Taking a deep breath, Hercules held up his hands and smiled faintly. "I'm Hercules, just, maybe not the Hercules you know."

Iphicles considered this for a long moment. "Like from another reality or timeline?"

"Yes," Hercules replied, relieved that his brother had heard of such things here, wherever here was. The last time Zeus had helped him meddle with time, he ended up back at Iolaus' house ready to try some of Ania's *interesting* stew. But this, this was a completely new situation. Now he knew what Iolaus must have felt like the first time he fell into the Sovereign's world.

"But there was no vortex, no Chronos stone," Iphicles mused as he lowered his blade. "How--"

"I'm not sure," Hercules answered honestly. "All I know is that this timeline is different." *And hopefully better.* Turning to a different topic, he asked, "How do you know about the vortex or the Chronos stone?

Where you there when it happened . . . here?"

"No." Iphicles grinned, ruefully sheathing his sword. "But everyone knows the tales. Your bards sing your praises far and wide."

"My bards?" Hercules repeated carefully. Iphicles nodded. "Ooo-kay. This is weird."

"Are you here to fix things in this timeline, or this world? Are you here to stop the Destroyer?" The eagerness in his brother's voice was unmistakable.

Hercules pulled a chair away from the ornate table and sat down heavily, voice calming. "Maybe we should start from the beginning. When you say Destroyer, you mean Xena?"

"Yes, of course, who else would I mean?" Iphicles threw his hands up in frustration. "After she took Rome it was only a matter of time before she came for Greece. You're obviously here to set things right, stop her reign of terror. You must be even stronger that the Hercules I know!"

Hercules paled slightly. That wasn't why he was here at all. He'd done this for one reason and one reason only and in light of the plight Iphicles described, it seemed almost petty and minor. Almost. His heart betrayed him every time. If anything was his weakness it was Iolaus. *And yet, nothing has ever given me more strength. But this isn't what I wanted! This isn't what I asked for! Where is Iolaus?*

"Iphicles, I need to know what's different here first before I do anything. I need to know who and what I am." *And where Iolaus is.* he added silently, desperately hoping this wasn't some sort of cruel joke his father had played on him. He couldn't take that. Not now. Not when he was so close.

*No Zeus wouldn't do that.* He scolded himself firmly, clenching his jaw in firm denial. *He may use me for his own purposes, but he's never deliberately cruel.*

"That will take all night at least!" Iphicles said with a humorless laugh, glancing out of the numerous windows facing the garrisons barracks where men milled about in training. "And I have to review the troops tonight. Battle is too eminent on the horizon to spend an evening discussing ancient

history, brother."

"But then--"

"Ask your Oracle, Hercules. Find out what you need to know and fast. Attica has joined with us, all of Helle, all of Greece is behind you." Iphicles leaned closer and slapped his brother on the back. "Within days we face the murdering bitch for control of the known world. I don't know how or why you're here, but thank your father, thank Zeus for sending you! Now I will have my vengeance for Reina!"

Hercules was dumfounded by the honor and respect in his brother's tone, and the cold fury. *Reina, dead because of Xena. But how could Xena still be a warlord if the only thing changed was Iolaus' death?* The dark-haired man was out of the door before the demigod could rise to ask the million questions forming on his mind.

"Iphicles, wait--!" Hercules called after him, but he was gone.

*Thank my father? For what?* Letting out a moan Hercules sank back into his chair, burying his face in his hands. *Did he really change time for me? But why so much?*

There was only one certainty here. These people needed him, people always needed him and as Maven had known, he couldn't turn his back on them, dream or not, alternate timeline or not, rabid hallucination or not.

At this point in time Hercules wasn't sure which one of the three he preferred.

Oracle. Iphicles had said to ask the Oracle. *Not the Oracle,* his mind hissed, *he said YOUR Oracle.*

"Yeah right, like I own an Oracle." He laughed to the empty room. Sighing and slapping his legs he rose to his feet and decided to head to where the royal bedchambers had been. Obviously he was the King of Corinth. *But why would I have taken the throne if all that changed was Iolaus being alive? Why would I stop adventuring with him when Jason married my mother? It didn't make sense. Oh well, maybe if I fall asleep here, I'll wake up there,* he thought with a silent strained giggle.

He wandered the familiar yet different corridors slowly, nodding greetings to people he passed along the way. He entered what had always been Iphicles' and Reina's room, before that Jason's, and tugged off the long leather vest and tossed it absently on a chair. Sliding off his gauntlets and boots he slipped between the sheets and sank into the feather bed. *At least this dream is comfortable,* he thought with a sigh.

Hercules suddenly felt light strike his eyes and something heavy on his brow. He blinked in astonishment and looked up to see a prune-faced man with a similar staff to Fedutious' standing before him. *What in Tartarus is going on now?*

He felt himself turn around and face an audience of admirers in a brightly lit temple. The purple robed man behind him banged his staff twice. "All Hail King Orestes!"

The audience echoed the words. "Hail, King Orestes."

He felt himself smiling uncontrollably, though in truth he hadn't the faintest idea what was going on. "Cool," he heard himself whisper.

Suddenly a nearby band struck up a tune which he instantly recognized as a wedding march. Completely without thinking he found himself turning towards an armored silver-haired warrior.

"Hey, who's that, Hector?" he heard himself ask eagerly. But the voice wasn't his, he thought in shock, and neither were the words though they certainly echoed his confusion.

"You mean Orestes didn't tell you?" the older man whispered back in astonishment.

"Tell me what?" he replied ignorantly, smile fading slightly.

"Whoever is crowned king must marry the Princess Niobe, immediately."

He felt himself whirl around and stare down a flower-strewn aisle at a bride, decked in white and gold, face obscured by a veil, who began a stately procession towards him.

"What?" Hercules heard himself squeak and finally placed the voice.

*Iolaus,* he thought with a sinking feeling *I'm Iolaus again. Why? Oh gods, I wish this would stop! This is worse than being me and speaking with him. A hundred times worse!*

"Wait a second, are you crazy?!" he -- *Iolaus* he reminded himself firmly-- hissed at Hector. "I don't even know her, how can I can marry her!? I gotta date her or somethin-!"

The warrior, Hector, some part of him reminded -- *I shouldn't know this, I shouldn't be able to see this!* Hercules denied desperately, struggling to speak for himself -- pushed him around, face to, well, chin with his bride to be.

"Get in there!" the older man prodded.

*Geez, even she's taller than me!* Iolaus groused as they turned to face the prune-faced priest, but not before he leaned back and eyed his wife-to-be cautiously but critically, in true Iolaus fashion, practical

even in the most bizarre situations.

It was too much. Hercules felt the internal urge to laugh at how that must look. But with it was the sinking feeling that he hadn't been there to see it, and when he woke couldn't share his joy with the only person worth sharing it with.

It was difficult enough to see through his friend's eyes, but to hear his thoughts, to *be* Iolaus in his dreams, experiencing things Hercules hadn't seen, hadn't been given this much detail about, was bitterly agonizing and at the same time absurdly funny! There was no way he could know this, dream this, an d it tore at him so violently that only here in his tortured sleep could he be *with* his friend that Hercules was thrown out of sleep.

He awoke not at a campfire or at Jason's as he expected to. Not even in Cyprus with Morrigan's note waiting for him. He awoke in the royal bedchambers of Corinth, the last place on earth he expected to, and with the last person on earth he'd expected to leaning over and soothing him.

Letting out a cry of surprise, he practically pushed her away and fell off the other side of the bed. Gapping in shock he sputtered. "You -- what? How--? Where's--? Why are you . . .? What are YOU doing here?!"

Brushing back her loose wavy hair, Ania placed her hands on her hips and pursed her lips together. "Where else would your Oracle be, husband?"

"Well, how can I disappoint a woman who's so crazy about me?"

--King for a Day

"What the Hell was that?"

"That's Ania the day after you marry her."

--Hercules and the Amazon Women

*****************************************

V.

"HUSBAND?!" Hercules roared, aghast. Violently he tried to untangle himself from the blankets and bedclothes around him as he got to his feet. "You . . . me . . . " he sputtered, pointing at her and then

at himself. "What about Iolaus!?"

A dark shadow of pain lanced through Ania's eyes and she seemed to shrink within her silvery blue robes, wavy unbound hair falling to curtain her features.

"Oh gods, no," Hercules whispered, clutching his hand to his chest. "He's not . . . not here too?"

"No!" Ania denied vehemently. "Iolaus is fine."

"Then why aren't you and he . . . why aren't you married to him?" Hercules demanded angrily.

"This world is very different from your own, wherever, whenever it may be." Ania replied distantly.

"Did . . . Iphicles tell you?" Hercules asked warily.

She sighed in exasperation and climbed onto the bed and sat cross-legged amid rumpled sheets. "I'm an Oracle, *your* Oracle. I can see you're not from here."

Hercules swallowed hard. "So here you're an Oracle, and you and I . . ."

"Are married, yes," she finished for him serenely.

Embarrassed, Hercules ran his hand through his hair "Well, not to offend you but as long as I'm here, I'd rather we didn't-- Um . . . Iolaus and . . . well . . ."

"We don't," Ania informed him quietly.

"We don't?" he repeated almost stupidly.

"We don't share a bed. It was a marriage of safety, nothing more, Hercules. Oracles are highly prized in this world," she explained, gesturing gracefully with her hands all around her.

"I know Oracles are valuable. I'm just surprised Apollo let me have one," Hercules admitted as he moved his leather vest off the chair and took a seat far from the bed, more than a little relieved that he wasn't sleeping with his best friend's wife in this reality. *What in Tartarus had Zeus done anyway to keep Iolaus alive?*

"Apollo's gift of prophecy is granted to more than just the vessel of his will in this world. It is also granted to those who suffer, suffer so horribly that the cloth that time and Fate weave around mortal eyes is torn asunder and we can See." Ania's voice had dropped so low that Hercules had to lean forward and strain to hear it. He wanted to ask what had happened to her, what had happened for her and Iolaus to be separated. He had a thousand questions, but none more pressing than the first.

"Where's Iolaus?"

Ania's eyes flashed with knowing as she looked at him again. "Ah. So that is why you are here Son of Zeus. Know that he lives, though you and he have not fought side by side since before our marriage, he serves and follows you still in his heart."

Hercules pushed out of his seat, half in joy at her words, half in anger. "Iolaus does *not* serve me. He never has, he never will. I only wanted him alive and by my side. With me like a brother. Safe and the world too. Why has so much changed?"

"I do not know," Ania replied honestly. "I only know what is here, and what will be. You are King, Hercules, leader of all of Helle, all of Greece against the Destroyer. When Xena's hoards approached, you took control, rallied the people, fought back against She who Destroyed Rome." Her voice taking on an almost hypnotic chant, Ania swayed back and forth as if the words taxed her of her very soul. "You stopped her from razing Thebes completely, but not before lives were lost, many lives, many souls. . . "

Her voice trailed off and Hercules knew in his heart that Ania's soul had been among those torched and torn when Xena had attacked his hometown. *Not only her,* his mind whispered *but maybe Mother as well.* He had to ask, he had to know what had happened.

"What happened at Thebes, my mother . . . is that why . . . why you and Iolaus . . ."

"I left him," Ania stated simply, eyes far distant, rubbing her hands anxiously. "Our children were killed, heads smashed, your mother . . . I couldn't--couldn't let him look at me, not after the beasts . . . shamed

me."

Hercules moved closer and knelt beside the bed, staring anxiously at his friend's wife's face -- never his wife, never -- looking for tears, some expression besides this blank coldness. Only her hands betrayed her, rubbing, rubbing. . .

"Where is he?" Hercules whispered.

"He l--left," she answered vaguely. "Wandered far and wide, trying to run, trying to escape the hurt which both Xena and I caused him." Suddenly she seemed to snap back into awareness and turned to face him. "Xena sought Oracles from within her victims, that is why she condoned the . . . barbarity. She seeks some power long promised to her by an evil shamaness. Only through marriage could you protect me from Ares' and her claim, and so it was done. And I am yours."

"No," Hercules countered with iron determination. "You're not married to me. I could never take you, not even to protect you. You still love him."

"An Oracle does not love, an Oracle is merely a vessel for the Fates," Ania repeated what were obviously rote words of supposed comfort.

Turning away, Hercules cursed. "Dammit! This isn't what I wanted! This isn't what I wanted at all! This is no more . . . *right* than my world is now! Otherwise I wouldn't still be having those . . . those damn dreams!"

Pushing to his feet Hercules went over to the window and stared out at the dusk of early evening. Clenching his hands in anger he slammed his fist down onto the window ledge, cracking the stone, pounding part of it to fine dust.

*What changed the world? What?!*

"There has to have been one moment, one critical thing that changed . . . everything!" Hercules insisted, ignoring the pain in his hand.

Breath hissing through clenched teeth, Hercules closed his eyes tight, trying to remember his exact words to his father. "I wanted him safe and by my side," he muttered to himself, not noticing Ania rise gracefully from the bed behind him and come to stand by his shoulder, mouthing the words with him silently.

"I wanted . . . I wanted to stop Dahak from entering the world. No sacrifice in Sumeria, no sacrifice in Britannia. . ." Hercules' eyes snapped open and he whirled around and grabbed Ania by the arms. "That's it, isn't it? To prevent Dahak from entering the world to begin with Xena could never reform, could never meet Gabrielle. Iolaus couldn't be my partner because she would have used him against me and eventually turned to good! That's what changed! Not one thing, but a string of events! That's where

it all went wrong!"

"Went wrong, Hercules? I thought this was to be your hope, your place of peace, your salvation. Wasn't this to be the *right* world?" Ania asked softly.

Hercules let go of her and sat back on the crumbling window ledge, suddenly drained. "Yes, no . . . I don't. . ." He pressed the heels of his hands to his forehead. "I don't know anymore! The only way I could think to bring him back was to change the past! I did everything I could! I fought Dahak, I fought my brother, I fought the gods of Sumeria, I denounced the world, I lost myself, found myself, nearly got married, and now I made my father alter history, and for what?" Hercules laughed, an empty hollow sound. "I took a stupid risk, when my father could have rid me of these dreams with a wave of his hand."

"I just can't let him go." He looked away, tears stinging his eyes, his voice soft. "I just, I just wish I knew why."

"Why don't you talk like a normal person?"

--Resurrection

"I can't imagine a world without him."

--Armageddon Now Part 2

*******************************

VI.

"There must be a reason. It is taught that there is always a reason," Ania said gently as she sank, kneeling reflectively on the stone ground, it too, Hercules noticed, missing its usual fine rugs.

"Yeah, yeah, the gods provide reason. I've heard it all before," Hercules said bitterly, bracing one leg up on the window ledge, leaning sideways against the frame.

"Who said anything about the gods?" Ania cocked her head to the side shrewdly. "I'm talking about the forces of life."

Hercules sat up slightly. "Like the forces of creation and destruction? Well I've dealt with them too. Bastard took my friend but I got rid of him," he finished, gesturing finality with his hands.

"You got rid of the destructive force?" the Oracle asked, eyebrows raised in disbelief.

"Yeah. Ugly bug creature. Iolaus and I," Hercules swallowed the lump in his throat. "Iolaus and I, we tossed him into a burning pit of fire. Looked unpleasant and final."

Ania laughed and shook her head. "You must be joking! You can't destroy the destructive impulse! You have a paradox in itself. To destroy the destructive impulse, you need the destructive impulse to do it in the first place."

The demigod thought about this for a long moment. "What?"

Sighing in impatience, Ania began again, "Listen--"

"No, no, no, I got you the first time!" Hercules turned and placed both feet on the ground and stared down at her. "Maybe I didn't destroy him, but I got him out of our world! He was evil. Dahak was bent on destruction, he was powerful enough to kill the gods of Sumeria, the druids, and he nearly brought about Ragnarok!"

"Dahak? The destructive impulse is Dahak?" she asked with evident disbelief and chagrin.

"What else are we talking about?" Hercules raised his hands in frustration. *And here I hoped for a sane Oracle, one that finally made sense.*

"Hercules, if Dahak *was* the destructive impulse, regardless of whether you simply banished him or destroyed him, if he was as powerful as you claim, how did you defeat him?"

Hercules sat back. She had a point. In his mind Hercules replayed the confrontations he personally had with Dahak, all four of them. First in Sumeria. Dahak had claimed he was Iolaus and yet had used limited abilities to prove his might. His fighting style was not Iolaus', though the creature had claimed to be his friend numerous times.

On the shores of Greece, amid the villages, he had used words, nothing more. In the rededicated temple Hercules had finally realized that Dahak *wanted* him to destroy him, since according to Zarathustra a perfect balance of god and man existed within him and if he delivered the killing blow, the balance of the universe would shift. But then Dahak hadn't been able to get him to do it. Hadn't been able to get him angry enough to loose control. With Iolaus' memories, with Iolaus' soul, he would have known enough about Hercules to drive him mad enough to do just about anything. Zeus knew, Iolaus was privy to every one of the demigod's failures and weaknesses. Deianeira, the children, Serena, Iolaus himself. But he

hadn't used the knowledge at all, hadn't even been able to use Iolaus completely to his advantage either by threatening or showing his friend's soul in agony.

Dahak hadn't known all that much about Iolaus at all. He had proved that weakness with his own words.

*"You used him merely as a traveling companion on the road to your destiny.*"

Nothing could have been further from the truth, Hercules had known it then, and he knew it now. Ania was right. Something didn't quite add up. Maybe that explained the nagging feelings, the . . . incompleteness of the whole situation. Even a marker for Iolaus hadn't given him closure. There was

something missing.

*--Can't you feel it?--*

Hercules shivered, remembering those haunting words, unable to answer the seer's question. Instead he stared down at her with concern, shifting the conversation to more mundane and safe topics.

"Why don't you get up off the floor before you freeze? Where are the carpets in this place anyway? Do I have a thing against rugs in this world?"

"All the old carpets were too bloodstained after Xena's preemptive strike slaughtered the last king of Corinth, Jason and his family. No amount of washing could remove the blood spilt that day," Ania replied softly and moved with a gracefulness he never remembered her having, to her feet to straighten up the bed.

*So much for safe topics,* Hercules thought weakly, closing his eyes and sending out a silent apology to his old friend. So many dead so that one man could live. Was this what he wanted? Was this what Zeus had been trying to tell him? The futility of altering time?

*Anything* he had said. Hercules had been willing to change *anything* in that one moment that seemed a lifetime ago to have his friend again. But maybe the price was too high. Maybe altering the past did not hold the answers to his troubled sleep and soul.

Sighing despondently Hercules glanced out of the window. The marketplace was a bustle of activity. Some sort of parade, honoring one of his divine relatives no doubt. Obviously a popular one by the looks of it. "Who's shrine is that?" He asked, pointing out at the beautiful building strewn with flowers and burning incense.

"Which one?" she asked, coming up behind him, folding the bedclothes neatly.

"The one all the people are trying to get into."

She blinked once and laughed at his naivete. "That's yours."

Hercules turned to look at her, wide-eyed and disbelieving "Mine."

"Whose else would it be?" she said with a smile playing teasingly on her lips.

"I have a shrine," Hercules clarified, trying to be absolutely sure he had heard her correctly.

"Yes."

Hercules glanced back at the clamoring people, waving scarves in the air, singing out praises. He turned back to her just to make sure they were talking about the same thing when they said *shrines.* "Where people . . . worship me."

"You don't go deep into the whole worship stuff." She waved off his shocked tone absently with her hands. "It's more like a place where your followers can leave petitions for help from the People's Hero without interrupting drills at the palace."

"My followers?"

"Your followers, your Chosen."

"I've had more than my fill of Chosen," he informed her wryly, crossing his arms tightly and staring back at the building that overshadowed almost all the rest. He shook his head and whirled around to face her again. This had to be a joke!* "My Shrine? As in shrine Shrine?"

"They're all over Greece. Every city has one. If you think this is bad, you should see the one Queen Deianeira erected to you in Troy after you saved her from the Blue Priest. I've heard the statue there is solid bronze and overshadows the whole palace," Ania told him teasingly, not oblivious to the fact that Hercules grew more uncomfortable as she continued. She flopped back onto the newly made bed, fingering the silky thick blankets, and smiled at him like a satisfied cat.

"But--but, I'm not a god! I told her that! I'm not!" he gestured to himself. *At least I don't feel like one.*

"I *know* that," she replied, a little disgusted at his patronizing tone. "I'm not an Oracle for nothing you know! You're the People's Hero."

"What--what about them? Do they know I'm not a god?" he asked, pointing once again to the frenzied crowed that to his embarrassment was chanting his name.

"They know that too."

"It doesn't look like it," he countered, more than a little doubtful.

Ania gave him a patented disgusted glare and closed her eyes and relaxed. She opened them suddenly when she heard him shuffle and step up on the window ledge.

"Where are you going?" she demanded anxiously sitting up, thoughts of suicide dancing in her head.

"I'm going to talk to them!" Hercules said in a tired voice as he looked for a way down.

"Now? Let me arrange an escort!" Ania sprang to her feet and headed for the door to call for a guard.

"I don't need the protection." Hercules waved back to her, a slightly impatient grin on his face. "I need to talk some sense into those people."

"By going out the window?" she asked incredulously.

"I need the air," he informed her wryly.

"They won't listen. You *are* the People's Hero after all," the Oracle crossed her arms, warning him smugly.

"You keep saying that like it means something."

"It does mean something," she insisted in exasperation "You're the People's Hero."

"This is starting to sound a lot like the whole Chosen One stuff," Hercules groused as he steadied his grip.

"No, *they* are they Chosen, *you* are--"

"The People's Hero, yeah, yeah I got it." Hercules wasted no more time. Taking a deep breath he leapt and caught one of the banners that hung on the castle parapets. It ripped, slowing his descent until he was able to let go and land in the courtyard with a slight thump behind the crowd.

The people below were still trying to force their way into the shrine. Taking a deep breath Hercules began to wade his way through the crowd to see what all the trouble was before he talked some sense into all of them.

"Excuse me," he murmured. "Coming through!" He gently eased his way as inconspicuously as he could through the throng of celebrators. However his anonymity was short lived. Suddenly the music stopped and dozens and dozens of eyes turned to him in awed and reverent recognition.

"It's him!"

"It's Hercules!"

"He's come to see us!"

"The King's come to rescue us!"

"He saved us from the Minotaur single-handedly!"

"Hercules kiss my baby!"

"Hercules I want your baby!"

"Wait just a second," Hercules interrupted, raising his hands modestly as a swarm of hungry people dived for him all at once. "I don't think you understand--!"

*What am I?* he thought nervously as a hundred hands seemed to reach for him all at once, a thousand pleas for help. *A god or prey? Sheesh!*

"Hold on, Hold on!" He ordered, deciding to take charge of the situation before he was literally swallowed by the crowd. "Let me through!" He pushed his way forward and hopped up the steps to the shrine, trying to ignore the number of slaps on the back and hands in . . . other places as he walked.

*This is as bad a being surrounded by King Thespian's 50 daughters!*

"I touched him! I'm blessed!"

"So did I!"

"He's even more handsome in person!"

"He's come to receive his Champion!"

"I shook his hand!"

"He'll save us from the Destroyer!"

"He looks just like his statue!"

*Champion? Statue?* Hercules thought with a raised eyebrow. *Oooh Boy, this is going to be difficult! What kind of impression have I been giving these people all these years?*

Sighing in disgust, he cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled above their clamor, "Hey! Hey all of you! Listen for a minute!"

"Praise to him, Son of Zeus!" the cry rang out and was soon echoed.

Hercules snorted in exasperation and tried to explain, "Look, people, I don't need all this. I'm not immortal--"

"Praise to him, child of Alcmene!"

"My father doesn't really--"

They ignored him, the chanting growing louder.

"You should be home with your families. This--no, I'm only a bit stronger--"

They began singing.

Hercules tried again. "Look, I really don't want all this. My mother was--"

But the people didn't listen, they waved scarves and danced about, and Hercules just gave up, let out a long suffering sigh and covered his eyes, trying to ignore the piles of flower garlands, dinars, jewelry, and pieces of female clothing he just didn't *didn't* want to know about being thrown at his feet.

"What in Hades' name have I been doing here?" he wondered aloud. He looked at the frenzied crowd that was even now advancing up the steps. Hastily, Hercules began to retreat from the rising tide of ardent followers. He stepped up towards the golden doors of the shrine, the people following even closer, even faster on his heels. Spinning around, he flung open the door, dashed inside and slammed it shut before they could get to him.

Still he was not safe. He could hear them pounding on the door, stamping their feet in time to the music. Flinging up his hands in defeat he turned and bolted for the inner chambers, looking back at the door, praying it would hold.

Hercules crashed into someone suddenly, with such a force that he drove whoever it was to the floor beneath him. Quickly he rolled over onto his back, worried that he'd squashed someone. *Please tell me I don't have priests, or Zeus forbid, priestesses!*

"What in Tartarus--?" someone cursed. Hercules propped himself up slowly on his elbows and raised his head, wondering if he really wanted to see what crazy devotees he had *inside* his shrine.

"Hercules?"

The demigod blinked in surprise. He knew that voice.

Hercules sat up as if lightning had struck him and stared at his sole supplicant.

"Iolaus?"

"I want you to pretend that *I* am Iolaus. Now I know it's a stretch of

the imagination, but I would appreciate the effort."

-- . . . and Fancy Free

******************

VII.

Laughing, Iolaus reached out and grabbed his stunned friend in a bear hug, slapping him heartily on the back. For a moment, Hercules was so overwhelmed by the reaction and the sudden appearance of his brother he was practically paralyzed. But then his heart started thinking and took control of him again and he returned the embrace with rib-cracking strength, finding that he too had joined the blond in merry laughter.

Iolaus pulled back and rose to his feet, pulling the demigod along. His blue eyes regarded his childhood friend at arms length, Hercules still clasping his wrists, reluctant to let go in mortal trembling fear that the

hunter might simply disappear and leave him alone again.

"Hercules! It's great to see you! You're looking good!" Iolaus crowed, punching the demigod lightly in the arm.

"Iolaus." Hercules smiled at the wonder of it. It was him! There was no doubt, no difference. Admittedly the purple patch vest was missing; Iolaus was clad only in soft black leather breeches, sword by his side, amulet around his neck, and barefoot, but it was him. The same disarray of wild hair, though softer, less wavy than before, and the same piercing blue eyes and wide delighted grin. In that instant the world around him might as well have been headed for Hades in a handbasket, he didn't care. He had Iolaus back. That was all that mattered.

"'Iolaus'? Is that all you have to say?" the blond teased, mimicking the demigod's voice with a grin. "I've been gone for more than ten years and that's all you have to say?"

Hercules shook his head, stumbling over words while his heart sang so loudly in his ears he thought he might die with joy. He was smiling so hard his cheeks hurt, but he couldn't stop. Nor, he admitted eagerly, did he want to. Ever. He felt complete again. He felt a peace he had only had in those few rare moments in the cave back in Eyre arguing with Iolaus about cooking, and he'd be damned to Tartarus first before he gave it up again.

"What--what are you doing here?" he finally sputtered out, gesturing at the shrine and taking his first good look of the place himself. Its previous owner, most likely Apollo given the golden bright color scheme, had left it in good repair, but there were no sacrifices to the sun god. On tables there was burning incense, flowers, and offerings. Some of them bags of dinars, others written poems, children's drawings, even something that reminded him of Salmoneus' wax action figures. The walls were covered

with frescos of great deeds he had obviously done. Hercules recognized the Argo, the fort at Naxos, and depictions of centaurs and Amazons preparing to fight, with him placed as a mediator in the middle. There was even paintings of the battle with the phoenix all those years ago, the sea monster, the Blue Priest at Troy, Echidna, and the Hydra. But in all the pictures, in all the drawings he stood and fought alone. There was no image of Iolaus on the walls.

Hercules glanced behind him and on a raised dais was the final proof that this was indeed his shrine: a marble statue of him with Prometheus' torch in hand, standing victorious; the Neimian Lion, hydra heads, and warlord bodies portrayed at his feet.

"All night vigil." Iolaus explained his presence with an absent shrug. "I'm to be presented to you tomorrow by my cousin as tribute."

Hercules' head snapped around and he realized that Iolaus was being perfectly serious. "Tribute?" he all but squeaked. "You--given to me as tribute?!" Hercules pointed first at the hunter and then at himself.

"Attica's forces have joined your army. As King Orestes' champion I become your servant and Second." Iolaus ran a hand through his blond shocked hair in a totally unconcerned manner. "Don't tell me you pay even less attention to your own court and audience than Jason did?" he teased lightly, sketching a mock bow.

"Servant? I can't-- I can't have you as my servant!" Hercules countered angrily.

Iolaus' smile immediately left his face and he paled slightly at the demigod's anger. Ducking his head he replied softly and suddenly serious. "I'm sorry Hercules. I--I'll step down as Champion if you wish. I

understand if you doubt my skill. Linus can take my place and I'll join the regulars and hoplites."

The demigod's jaw dropped in shock at his friend's almost subservient tone. "What?! No! No, no, no, that's not what I want!"

"Oh, you're right. Silly me, the infantry or the militia then." Iolaus slapped his forehead with his hand at his own stupidity "I'm not noble born after all. Wherever you want me to serve I will. It makes no

difference. I understand that I must seem like a deserter to you. All these years--"

Hercules reached over and took Iolaus by the arm to stop his babbling. He then took a deep breath to quell his outrage and gather his thoughts. He wasn't upset at Iolaus and he sure as Hades didn't doubt his skills, didn't the hunter see that? If anything he was furious at himself, at what he had done to promote this--this image of superiority that had influenced even his best friend and brother.

"Iolaus, I'm not angry with you!" Hercules insisted in a soft but urgent voice. "Listen, you didn't desert anything or anyone! When I say I don't want you as a servant it's because I want you fighting *with* me as my partner. I don't need a servant or--or a Champion or a Second!" Hercules threw up his hands in frustration hoping, praying he was getting through to the blond. "I want someone at my back who I can trust with my life in battle, and there is no one, *no one,*" he repeated in emphasis, "I want besides you."

Hercules watched as Iolaus' eyes grew wider and wider at his words. They had obviously taken him by surprise.

Iolaus found that he could only nod in thanks. He hadn't expected this. Not at all. Even as far to the East as he had been, he had heard of Hercules' greatness and was proud of his childhood sparring partner. But to hear those words, like echoes from the Academy days . . .

*I want someone at my back who I can trust with my life*

*Fighting back-to-back, battlefield heroes, brothers*

He hadn't expected this. Hadn't even dared dream his friend would remember after all that had passed since then, since the razing at Thebes, but here was Hercules echoing their childhood pledge and he meant it. Iolaus could see it in his eyes. The King of Corinth, the divine leader of all of Greece wanted him at his side in battle.

*It was worth it,* Iolaus realized. *It was worth coming back, giving up that . . . that peace. If only for this, if only for *him,* it was worth it.*

Iolaus reached for his sword and pulled it from his scabbard. And then right then and there he dropped to his knees before his friend and said the words that he had planned to speak the following day before all of Greece to its savior and hero.

He proffered the sword in his hands up to Hercules, blue eyes bright and burning with tears of gratitude. "I, Iolaus, son of Skourus and Champion to my noble cousin and king, Orestes of Attica, do pledge my sword and my life to you and your cause, for the salvation of the people of Greece, of all the known world." Iolaus took a deep breath and added words that had not been ordained by tradition, but now burned in his heart, "My loyalty, my life, and my heart I give solely to you, so that someday . . . I may

call you . . . " *Brother* his mind sang, but it was too soon, it had been over ten years. Iolaus swallowed painfully and whispered another word, yet no less dear, "Friend."

Hercules was speechless. His mouth worked but no sound would come out. He felt the sudden urge to just grab Iolaus and shake some sense into him, to tell him this wasn't necessary, if anyone should say those words it should be him, who had never let them past his lips near as often as he should have in life. Inexplicably he felt tears sting his eyes and he slowly reached out to where Iolaus waited, sword raised. Gently he covered Iolaus' hands with his own and dropped to his knees in front of the hunter.

"Iolaus . . ." Hercules began, trying to explain around the sadness of the whole situation as he stared into the blond's bewildered eyes. "Iolaus, you've never needed to pledge anything to me. I already know, I see it in everything you do. You're *my* hero Iolaus. You never, ever need to get on your knees before me for anything!" Hercules said passionately, hands clenching the hunter's around the sword. A grin slowly spread across his face. "You're my brother, and brothers don't stand on ceremony with each other." He pulled the sword out of Iolaus' hands and laid it down on the floor with a clatter. "I missed you," Hercules said simply.

Iolaus' head was spinning; he felt more euphoric than he ever had in his entire time in the East and it gave him such a feeling of life flowing through him, he wanted to shout out his happiness to the world. He'd made the right choice coming back, he was sure of it now. He had found his purpose again, his heart, his brother.

He ducked his head with a faint giggle and nodded agreement. "I missed you too, Herc."

It was the first time Hercules had heard that name since Iolaus had left, gone into that light and wherever it lead to all those months ago. *That's what I miss the most,* the demigod realized. *It's all the little things that only Iolaus does. Only he calls me 'Herc.' Only he takes me down a peg when I get too full of myself. I bet, I bet if he had been here when the people wanted to make shrines and statues he would have laughed and made so much fun of me I'd have never agreed to the whole damn thing!* Hercules

thought with silent laughter as he glanced quickly behind him at the ridiculous statue of himself.

"C'mon." He motioned to Iolaus with a smile as he got to his feet, clasping the hunter's wrist and pulling him up. "Let go get something to eat and then you can tell me what you spent the last ten years or so doing."

"Ah, no food. Fasting," Iolaus explained with a grin as he bent over and sheathed his sword.

"Fasting? YOU?!" Hercules sputtered. "Okay, who are you and what have you done with the real Iolaus?"

"I am the real Iolaus!" the blond announced indignantly, hands on his hips as he struck a defiant pose. "But are you sure you're the real Hercules? Shouldn't you be off hobnobbing with divine folk?" Iolaus elbowed him with a laugh. "I swear, from all the stories I've heard, shouldn't you have a pad in Olympus by now?"

Letting out a snort of superior disgust, Hercules pushed the comment aside with a wave of his hand. "Boring! It's much more interesting down here."

"Ah-ha! Had a taste of the rich and wealthy and now not even Olympus is grand enough, huh?" Iolaus teased tentatively, still a little unsure of how far he could go with his friend. Despite Hercules' words he was still King, still Zeus' favorite son, still the People's Hero. *It doesn't matter,* Iolaus told himself firmly. *He called me brother. And even if he never does anywhere else but when we're alone, even if he never does again, then that's enough.*

Hercules noticed the slight reticence of his partner and put an arm around his shoulder and squeezed briefly. "Well, if you're fasting, I'll eat and you can talk, okay, buddy?"

Iolaus looked at Hercules for a long moment and the shadow of doubt in his eyes passed and they once again glowed brightly with his smile. He laughed and nodded as they headed out of the main chamber.

Hercules however pulled up short at the golden doors. Outside he could still heard the cheering, singing crowd. The demigod glanced quickly down at the hunter and began to blush as women's voices drifted into the room offering sweetly to the hiding hero.

"Ahhh . . . is there a back door to this place?" Hercules asked awkwardly.

Iolaus shook his head, suppressing a chuckle. One really shouldn't laugh at the king, though if it was the old days he'd be roaring by now. Even now he couldn't hold back completely. Hercules looked so anxious and uncomfortable it reminded Iolaus of when they'd been boys and Cyane, then Amazon queen, had literally thrown herself at the son of Zeus that night before the battle with the Centaurs. Hercules had liked her but had sputtered and blushed nervously every time the Amazon became a little

forward with him.

"C'mon," he said, leading his tall flustered friend back the way they came. "Far be it from me to tell you how to deal with your adoring public," he muttered slyly as he headed down a flight of concealed steps and into a maze of underground tunnels in the direction of the palace.

Despite his words regarding hunger, Hercules avoided the kitchen and Iolaus and he wandered down the halls, his feet echoing loudly on the stone floor, Iolaus' not making so much as a whisper.

Iolaus' voice was quiet, softly describing to Hercules the grandeur of the Persian cities he'd seen and the vast plains, the great inland seas and the deserts. But he would not speak of what he had been doing, and Hercules did not press. The demigod remembered well when Iolaus had returned from his much shorter hiatus to the East and had challenged to fight him, and shown him some amazing moves. Here, Iolaus had spent much more time in the East. The gods only knew what he had learned, but if the hunter's increased stealth was any indication there was no doubt in his mind why Orestes had not hesitated to make his cousin Champion.

They entered the royal apartments and Hercules headed for his bedroom when he suddenly remembered Ania, probably asleep now on the bed, his bed, his friend's wife . . . *Oh gods!* Hercules froze. *Does he know about Ania? She said she left him after Thebes, but does he know she's here? That I . . .* Hercules swallowed painfully. *Married her?*

As if from his dreams, Iolaus' voice rose to whisper in his ears. *"I don't hear so well when jealousy blocks my ears."* And that had been about Danielle, the young woman Proteus had loved. This was Iolaus' wife! Hercules had seen Iolaus lovestruck by a pretty maid more than once, but his depth of emotion for Ania . . .

*"I could sit and look at her all day!"* the hunter had confessed to the demigod before his marriage. Iolaus had married her even in the face of her dubious cooking abilities, a wonder in itself Alcmene had imparted with a laugh to her son, given Iolaus' appetite. Hades, the hunter had paid practically everything he owned and then some in bride price. *Eleven chickens,* Hercules remembered, shaking his head at his brother's folly. *Seven cows, three goats, and eleven chickens for a women who couldn't sew, cook, or take care of animals. But then Iolaus had a response for every one of my disapproving comments, illogical as they were,* Hercules remembered fondly.

*"She's got this little mole right here, drives me crazy. What can I tell ya?"* Iolaus had fallen for her, hook, line, and sinker and now she awaited them in Hercules' bedchamber.

Behind him Hercules heard Iolaus sink into a plush chair with a sigh. The demigod turned to gaze at the blond who was staring out of the window, face expressionless. He seemed settled where he was, maybe, maybe they didn't have to talk about it right now.

*Like with Xena?* his mind reminded him painfully. *You kept Iolaus in the dark all day about Xena's reformation until she strode into camp that night.* Even now he could see the betrayed look in his friend's eyes, and Salmoneus' silent disapproval. *No, I won't make the same mistake twice.*

Taking a few steps closer, Hercules touched the hunter's shoulder lightly. "Iolaus?"

"Hmm?" Iolaus did not even glance at his friend as he fingered his amulet idly.

"Iolaus, about . . . about Thebes, about . . . Ania." That word got Iolaus attention; the taller man had not missed the clenching of his brother's jaw with the speaking of that name. Hercules cleared his throat and spread his hands expressively as he shrugged in helplessness. *How in the gods name do I do this?!*

"Hercules, it's all right," Iolaus said softly with a hollow laugh. He leaned forward and rested his hands on his knees. Hercules shivered at the sound, remembering a similar chuckle from the hunter when he'd returned early from scouting Draco's new fort and found Xena and himself relaxing after having made love. This was as painfilled as that one had been, he realized with more than a little guilt.

The demigod felt a hand punch him lightly in the leg. "Go on, I'll stay out here. It's more comfort than I'm used to." Iolaus eyed the faintly lit room with an approving glance. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Iolaus, Ania and I . . . we don't--" Hercules began desperately, but the hunter cut him off with a smile and a wave of his hand.

"It doesn't matter. You protect her, Hercules." He looked just for an instant at his half-mortal friend's face. "You just protect her like I . . . couldn't."

The strangely empty voice tore at Hercules almost as much as any accusatory and angry words could have. Iolaus stood, eyes drifting back towards the window and the now bright stars. He reached out to touch the hunter's shoulder again, when the blond turned and smiled at him reassuringly. "Go on, get some rest. Tomorrow's the ceremony and then battle soon enough. Rest."

"Yes, mother," Hercules replied in a sotto voice as he reluctantly turned to his room. Iolaus did not watch him go.

As the finality of the clicking door filled the room, Iolaus closed his eyes and breathed deep. *Peace,* he breathed, *Find the calm, the still center.* It had been easier at the temple, much easier than being in the room next door to his best friend and wife. *It doesn't matter,* he told himself firmly. *None of it is real.* Slowing his breath, Iolaus forgot, forgot when and where he was and traveled elsewhere, elsewhen, ever inward with his mind.

"The man you go to save, he isn't Iolaus, Hercules."

"I know. That doesn't mean I can let him die."

--Norse by Norsevest

"I am *not* going to marry her!"

"Well, I guess if you're going to be king you don't have restrict yourself to one person. OW!"

-- My Fair Lilith

**************************

VIII.

He was drowning.

He tried to suck in the life-precious air and found instead filthy brackish water choking him. He struggled vainly to swim to the surface. Above him, if he craned his neck, he could see the faint light of day, but his hands were bound tight, and something heavy attached to his feet pulled him down. He struggled fiercely, trying desperately to flex his muscles, to snap the ropes, but his body wouldn't or couldn't comply. He couldn't break free.

Suddenly something took over, halted his mad panic that would surely bring about an even quicker end. What precious little breath he hadn't wasted in his struggle was now stilled and he was overwhelmingly aware of his pounding heart echoing in his ears. But even as he listened it slowed, quieted into an almost whispering pattern. In his veins he could feel his blood move at a crawl that brought about a lightheadedness, that lifted him away and out of his body.

Hercules opened his eyes and expected to see the frozen lake, the emerald green of the surrounding hills of Eyre, Maven standing implacably at the shore. Instead he was somewhere light despite the sky of stars bright overhead and the strangely distorted moon. There was not even a whisper of wind to lift the sand from the dunes that spread before him. Numerous paths lay at his feet, meandering around this odd desert, and over in the distance someone waited, silhouetted against the starlight. In bewilderment Hercules felt drawn to the stranger, pulled inexorably up the shifting sands of the dune, until he finally stood next to the man.

He wanted to speak, to ask what he was doing here, how he got here, but words seemed lost in this desolation.

The silent shadow of a man beside him offered nothing, but pointed out at the never-ending horizon of sky that was light even in this black night.

"What?" Hercules asked in frustration, not seeing whatever it was that was so important. "What is it?"

The silent figure by his side turned and looked up at him with curious surprise in his impossible blue eyes at his question. "Can't you feel it?"

Hands grabbed him by the shoulders and dragged him out of the water, dumping him unceremoniously on the ground. Coughing and sputtering, he spat up the disgusting water as he pushed himself up, hands still bound. Suddenly a woman's face was in his field of vision, brown hair braided and pulled into two buns at either side of her head. "You made it! You survived!" she cried in joy.

*Dirce,* Hercules recognized after a moment. *What is she doing here? Where's Maven?*

Instead of speaking he found himself painfully choking up more water, and heaving in deep breaths. Dirce solicitously started patting him on the back in an effort to help him clear his waterlogged lungs.

"Yeah--" Hercules heard a voice begin, gulping for air like a landed fish. "I -- ahhh -- managed to -- slow down my -- heartbeat -- so that I could -- hold my breath till-- I bobbed to the surface." He gasped again. "It's a-- trick I learned-- in the East."

*Iolaus!* Hercules realized as he tried to sit up in a body that was not his. *I'm Iolaus again! When did this happen? Why was he tied?*

"Well, it worked! You passed the first test," Dirce said, straightening up slightly.

Iolaus smile faded instantly. "First test?" he repeated flatly in disbelief.

Dirce tried to look away contritely. "Just two more," she reassured him.

"I hope they're a lot easier than this one was," Iolaus muttered as the guards behind him kicked him none too gently in the ribs.

"On your feet!" they ordered as they untied the rather large rock from his feet. Swaying slightly on his feet, Hercules found himself turning to Dirce again.

"What's next?" he heard Iolaus ask with more than a little worry in his tone.

Dirce seemed to consider the wisdom in telling him for a moment and then gesturing with a fist in the air replied vaguely, "It's called pressing."

"Pressing," Iolaus echoed ignorantly, trying to make heads or tails of what horror that could be. His mind was more than happy to supply him with any number of possible gruesome and barbaric images and scenarios. Dirce gave him a wan smile and walked off. "Pressing?" Iolaus' voice rose until it squeaked.

The guards behind him gave him a hard shove forward and

--Hercules landed with a thump on the floor. He looked up blearily at the bed beside him. This was getting to be a habit. Falling out of beds was not pleasant. "Maybe I should just sleep on the floor," he muttered to himself as he pressed the heel of his hand against his forehead. Already the dream had faded, certain images vanishing into the dust before he could hold onto them, while others remaining vivid. It wasn't getting any better, Hercules admitted to himself darkly. *It should,* every logical part of

his mind insisted. *He had Iolaus back, even though the world was a mess, everything should be fine.*

But it wasn't. He was more confused than ever, especially with this newest dream. Why on earth had Dirce been trying to drown Iolaus, and what was pressing? Whatever it was, it sounded unpleasant and Hercules winced in sympathy for whatever, whenever his friend had been forced to endure those tests.

*But Iolaus handled them. All that eastern learning. Funny,* Hercules mused. *Funny how I could hold my breath like that in Eyre, like Iolaus used to, without training.* Shaking the thought away and untangling himself slowly, he began to rise. *Must have been the Island itself, like the speed thing that only worked there. The Illumination remains with you when you're away from the Isle.* But then Hercules did realize that Illumination wasn't doing him all that much good now. The dreams were more and more puzzling and unsettling, as if in some bizarre way they were trying to tell him something, pointing at something on that never-ending horizon. *At least with the dream about Balder he had known what to do, but this made no sense! There was something someone was trying to tell him.*

--*Can't you feel it?*--

"Another dream?" a sleepy voice interrupted his thoughts. Hercules turned to regard Ania who was still buried under the covers on the other side of the vast bed.

"It's nothing." Hercules assured her.

"If it's nothing, why do you keep having them?" Ania replied saucily as she pushed herself up on her elbows to stare at him craftily.

"Why do you always talk in questions?" Hercules asked crossly. "Aren't you supposed to *answer* them?"

"Well, who fell out of the wrong side of the bed this morning?" Ania asked tartly as she reached for her silvery robe to slip on before rising from beneath the bedclothes.

Hercules sighed angrily. "I just need to figure this out! And nothing I do seems to be working! Not even this!" He replied, gesturing angrily at the royal bedroom.

"Maybe you're looking in the wrong direction," the Oracle put in more gently now as she washed her face in the basin on the table.

"Which direction should I be looking to, or is this a figurative response you're after?" Hercules shrugged on his long leather vest and sat down to lace up his boots. He waited a moment and when Ania didn't answer he looked up from his business to glare at her. "You know as an Oracle, you're not very helpful."

"But I thought you believed people made their own fate. What does it matter what I say, then?"

Grumbling under his breath Hercules rose, splashed some water on his face and opened the door to the more public part of the apartments, his bad mood evaporating immediately at the sight that greeted him. Iolaus stood upside down, balanced perfectly on the raised fingertips of his left hand. His eyes were closed and his amulet hung down around his ear. He seemed absolutely still but beneath the calm Hercules could almost see the energy coursing, golden and bright.

Grinning curiously, Hercules circled his friend carefully, not wanting to disturb or tip Iolaus over. He leaned over and peered at the hunter's face, wondering mischievously if he should yell and break Iolaus' concentration. Luckily for Iolaus he chose that moment to snap open his eyes and become aware of the world again even as Hercules formed his devious plan. Azure eyes sparkled with knowing, obviously suspecting what the demigod had been thinking.

"Good morning," Iolaus said politely, still upside down, though now bobbing up and down slowly on his fingertips.

"Iolaus, isn't there a better way to meditate?" Hercules asked with a laugh.

"Well, when you find one let me know," the hunter informed him dryly and then with a sudden burst of strength pushed himself up with his left hand, somersaulting over the demigod and landing light as a cat behind him and face to face with Ania.

Hercules took a hesitant step forward. "Ah . . ." he began intelligently looking anxiously from the Oracle to the Champion.

They simply stared at one another. Ania almost fearfully, hands rubbing themselves raw as a telltale sign. Iolaus simply blinked, face carefully neutral, but his eyes shadow-filled and haunted.

They might have stayed locked like that for an eternity had not Iolaus finally drawn in a loud breath, breaking the silence. He nodded respectfully first to Hercules and then to Ania.

"Thank you for your hospitality. I am at your service, your majesty," he told Hercules respectfully as if all that had transpired in the shrine between them had never occurred. Hercules reached out towards the hunter, but Iolaus sidestepped gracefully, heading for the door, grabbing his boots, vest and sword he must have had a guard deliver earlier. Shrugging on the purple vest, the only piece of clothing Ania had ever managed to sew for him he inclined his head to both of them again and vanished through the

door.

The second he disappeared, Ania let out a moan and sagged against the door frame, burying her face in her hands.

Hercules came to stand before her, wanting to comfort her but not touching her, keeping his distance from she who was his wife in name only.

"Well, that could have gone better," he murmured, wincing slightly.

"Why didn't they kill me?"

"Tripping on your robe doesn't count, tripping on you tongue does!"

--King For A Day

*********************

IX.

Iphicles joined Hercules as he descended the stone stairs into the currently empty throne room. There was a spark of light in his brother's usually dark eyes, a spark of hope that as Maven had known Hercules was far from immune from.

"Good morning Hercules." Coming closer, tying on his gauntlets as he did so, he gave his report. "The troops stand ready; forces from Sparta along with Arcadia, Attica, Thessely, Ionia, even remnants

from Macedonian and . . ." Iphicles swallowed hard. "Thebes."

"That's good." Hercules smiled at his brother. "And Xena, how close?"

"You'll have to wait for Autolycus' report for that." Iphicles replied as he poured some watered wine for himself and Hercules.

"Autolycus?" Hercules asked, eyebrow raised curiously.

"Best spy and informant Greece could ever have. Why? What is he in your world?" Iphicles queried over the rim of his goblet.

Allowing a small smile, Hercules leaned against the ornate table that now rested in the center of the room. "King of Thieves."

Iphicles sputtered back a rare chuckle and after a moment nodded. "Yeah I can see that."

"So when we have the news . . .?" Hercules prodded expectantly as he inspected the fruit bowl hungrily.

"We decide whether to attack now, or set a line of defense and wait."

"What are our chances?" Hercules asked bluntly.

"Xena's forces outnumber ours five to one at last report, but there's nothing accurate until we hear from Autolycus. She took Macedonians and what Roman soldiers she could besides her own men. Cavalry, infantry, but luckily we do have Greek Fire. But even with that and Attica's forces, we are sorely pressed. The last time she invaded as far as Thebes before we pushed her back, then she turned her sights to Rome. Now that that's done . . ."

Outside trumpets pierced the early morning air. "What's going on?" Hercules asked biting into a rather sweet apple.

"Warming up for the ceremony latter on." Iphicles sat down and began inspecting some scrolls already laid out on the table.

"About the ceremony," Hercules began fidgeting with his food. "Do you think we could skip it?"

"Skip it? And disappoint all of Greece?" Iphicles repeated in astonishment, looking up from his scrolls. "You're the People's Hero and unifier of all of Greece. No man or god has ever done that without

bloodshed. Your Champion is to be presented and there's rumor that the Lioness herself may come. Besides Fedutious has been planning this ceremony for months!"

"Oh, not you too!" Hercules groused at the mention of his title. "And *what* is coming? Nevermind, I don't want to know." Hercules brushed the thought away with a wave of his hand as he leaned over the table to stare at his brother authoritatively. "And as for Champions and Seconds and servants, I don't want it! I'm just like any other man defending his homeland. I want people fighting by my side as equals. No slaves or tributes. And those shrines, I'm not a god, for Zeus' sake! I want none of it."

"You *are* different," Iphicles breathed. "Not that that's bad, or that the other Hercules was bad," he put in hastily as he rolled up his scrolls. "It's just, it's just he never minded all the ceremony, he never

asked for it, but he enjoyed the recognition he got."

"There's nothing wrong with enjoying recognition, but shrines and giving people, my own best friend, away as a gift?" Hercules voice rose in distaste. "No, thank you."

"Iolaus?" Iphicles asked eager now, rising to his feet. "Iolaus is back? He's Orestes champion?"

"Well, yes," Hercules began in bewilderment. Iolaus and Iphicles had had their problems in the past but they were friends now, but he'd never seen his brother act so eager to see Iolaus. "Why--?"

"I can't believe he's back," Iphicles murmured. "After--after Thebes, I thought he'd never come home, Tartarus, I almost decided to go with him! Where is he? Oh, never mind. I'll find him myself." Slapping his brother once on the shoulder and grabbing several scrolls and hurried out of the room.

Confused, Hercules held up a hand and opened his mouth to say something, but nothing would come to him. Shrugging and blinking Hercules decided to head outside. Maybe some fresh air would help him make sense out of everything. Nodding politely to the guards outside of the archway, Hercules hurried down the hallway towards the nearest exit when Ania slipped out of what would be the library if the demigod remembered correctly and smiled wanly in greeting. Hercules did not miss the sight of her raw hands, however.

"There you are! The ceremony is about to start in less than a sunswidth."

"I don't think it's necess--" Ania grabbed his arm midsentence and led him along firmly, long unbound hair bobbing with her steps.

"This is a precarious time, the people need reassurance. They need to see symbols, no matter how false or true, of unity and strength, especially from the People's Hero."

"I wish you would stop calling me that," Hercules muttered as Ania opened door after door, dragging him along without so much as a backward glance. "Isn't the courtyard that way?" He twisted, pointing back the way they came.

"Yes, it is, but we've got to find Joxer first."

"Joxer?" Hercules repeated, wide-eyed. "Why?"

"He's playing at the ceremony," Ania explained.

"Oh. Joxer!" Hercules called out. "Joxer, where are you?"

"He can't answer you." The Oracle stopped him as she halted to search the room with her eyes, leaning behind several chairs as if to check.

"Why?" the demigod asked puzzledly.

"He doesn't have a tongue."

"What?!"

But Ania was already ahead of him in the next room. Hercules hurried after her and saw her kneeling down beside a table in one of the numerous rooms in the palace and peering into the shadows beneath the tablecloth.

"Joxer," she said softly holding out her hand to him. "Joxer, it's time for the ceremony. We want to hear your playing. Will you come out?"

Hercules stood rooted to the spot, watching in horror as the young man crept cautiously out from under the table. Devoid of his clanking armor and familiar helmet, clad in a simple homespun white shirt and breeches, he clutched at his lute as if it was his only hold on life. Oddly, he had a scabbard attached to his belt though it was empty. The young man's eyes were wild and haunted, but he still managed to nod greeting to Ania and stumble into a bow to Hercules.

"Morning, Joxer," Hercules said, smiling, hiding his horror and pretending as if this was all normal for him. Clapping his hands together he gestured back the way they had come. "Now that Ania's found you, lets go."

Ducking his head and fingering his instrument, Joxer followed. The bumbling and the constant stumbling seemed even more pronounced in this timeline's youth. When they finally reached the throne room again, Joxer gave a little bow again and hurried off. Hercules began to follow him when the Oracle

stopped him.

"He's going to join the musicians. He leads them," Ania explained. "You'll see him there, and hear him. He is one of the most gifted musicians ever. You have to enter from above, descending down the eastern steps."

"What--what happened to him?" Hercules asked after a moment as they resumed their course. "Who would . . ." his mind supplied the answer all to quickly. "Xena?"

Hercules closed his eyes in pain at the thought. Not only for poor broken Joxer, but for Xena, who while she had always been fierce had never been barbarically cruel. To keep Iolaus alive, Xena had lost her soul and her heart to darkness, and Joxer had been condemned to silently living nightmares.

"His father was one of the most famed warlords in Corinth and he gave his three sons into the Destroyer's service when he heard of her conquests," the Oracle explained as they reached the doorway to the courtyard steps outside. She quickly dug around and found a rich cloak of dark blue that Hercules remembered with achingly familiarity as Jason's when he was crown prince. "One of his brothers was quite mad and deadly and Xena had him killed as soon as possible. The other, Jett, is one of her prize

assassins.

She used him to dispatch Pompey the Magnus. But Joxer . . ."

"I know Joxer in my reality. He's not the best warrior, but he's one of the most loyal and kind men even though he is rather clumsy," Hercules said with a bitter smile.

"Well, Xena didn't appreciate it. Didn't appreciate his beliefs and strange fantasies of being a warlord his father had driven him to. But the more she . . . pushed him to stop, the worse he became." Ania shook her head as she handed him some silver gauntlets that snapped closed around his wrists like a second skin. "So she finally silenced him."

"How did he make his way here?" Hercules wondered as he fidgeted under her ministrations. Already the noise of the anxious crowd reached them. *Well at least I don't wear a crown. Those things look heavy.*

"Salmoneus brought him," Ania answered absently. "Now," she began before he could ask any more questions. "Your chosen await."

"'Chosen,'" Hercules mumbled as he pushed open the door. "What ever happened to originality?"

For a moment the bright light blinded him, but from the deafening roar his appearance produced he guessed that the courtyard was packed, and once his eyes stopped seeing dancing balls of psychedelic light he saw he was right.

The courtyard was filled to overflowing with people: soldiers, nobles, kings, dignitaries, commoners, foreigners. The gates of the outer wall were wide open and the crowd extended well outside the palace grounds and spilled out into the streets, and into what had once been the gardens, now sadly neglected.

People were hanging from trees, perched on the battlements and rooftops, and all of them were cheering.

Slightly embarrassed, Hercules made his way down the steps as quickly as decorum allowed towards the raised stone dais in front of the castle. The steps leading down from the dais was the only place clear of people. Ania followed gracefully behind him. Waiting for him was Iphicles and Fedutious along with what appeared to be an honor guard, an Amazon contingent within which he recognized with a start both Hyppolyta and Lilith among their number, and a centaur envoy and leader Hercules did not know. The most surprising sight was that of a Horde chieftain and his wife standing proud among the dignitaries. Ania must have felt him tense because he heard her whisper, "The Pomira are valuable allies, they only

fight those who destroy and dishonor the land and its gifts."

Warily he eyed them before clasping arms with his brother, nodding to the others and lightly slapping a surprised Fedutious on the back in greeting.

The trumpets blew a long fanfare that nearly deafened him and then he heard the sweet strains of a lute that he knew must be Joxer's that filled the courtyard. The audience sighed in pleasure at the music and once it had ceased, applauded loudly. Hercules could, by straining, make out the young man sitting on the steps near the edge of the crowd, rocking himself back and forth, lost in his music and mind, oblivious to the people around him.

The trumpets blew yet another long fanfare and Fedutious banged his ever-present staff twice. "Presenting their Royal Majesties, King Orestes and Queen Niobe of Attica."

The crowd roared in approval as the monarchs descended from the western stairs to meet Hercules on the dais. Smiling, Hercules clasped wrists with Orestes and bowed to Niobe.

"Hercules, King of Corinth, I do join with you my armies against those of the Destroyer in an effort to end her reign of terror. And as tribute do offer you the service of my dear cousin and Champion, Iolaus of Thebes."

Iolaus stepped forward, hand on the hilt of his sword, wearing his patchwork vest over a loose tunic of white. An earring flashed as golden as his hair as he pulled out his sword and Hercules knew he was about to kneel as he had the night before in the shrine. Quickly he raised his hand to stop his friend.

"No. I know your oath." The crowd murmured in surprise at this change in what was obviously tradition. Fedutious let out a little moan of despair and Hercules had to suppress a chuckle. "King Orestes, thank you for joining us in our efforts but this is not necessary. I need no second, no servant." Hercules raised his voice to be heard by all now. "I want comrades-in-arms, not servants or followers. We are all in this

together, we are all bound by loyalty and honor to our families and homes. We fight to keep them safe as equals. No man or woman or centaur's claim greater than the other. No difference between us." He turned to look at his best friend, whose eyes shined in delight and approval. "I greet you and welcome you home, Iolaus, not as tribute or a gift or a second or a servant but as my dearest friend." With that he proffered his wrist and laughing,

Iolaus took it. Orestes and Niobe smiled in honest joy, hands firmly clasped together, Fedutious sighed and nodded in satisfaction that decorum had been kept, Iphicles grinned and clapped his hands along with the other dignitaries, and the crowd cheered in approval, stamping their feet and waving their arms about like mad. *Well, at least they're not lobbing underwear at me!* Hercules thought with wary amusement. *But this thing's not over yet, so I better wait.*

A cry went up at the northern gate, a rumble through the crowd. Some commotion seemed to be going on, and people turned from the dais in wonder as the word passed from person to person.

"What is it? What's going on?" Hercules asked, a little worried, looking behind him at Ania and Iphicles for support.

"She comes! The Lioness comes!" A cry came from the crowd.

"And she brings with her a mass of people of freed slaves, an army to join with us!"

The din that filled Corinth after those pronouncements had been uttered was positively deafening. Hercules turned to see Iphicles and Iolaus, indeed all the dignitaries, had eagerly stepped forward. Whoever came was obviously an ally.

"The Lioness," Hyppolyta breathed in an almost awed tone.

Iolaus grinned at his cousin and slapped Iphicles on the back with his free hand before turning back to Hercules. "Now we can face the Destroyer. Now we have an army."

"Next time you're running from the law, don't stop to shake hands with every villager you meet."

"But Hercules, how can I deny them? The people love me!"

"Force yourself."

--King of Thieves

*******************

X.

"The Lioness?" Hercules had to yell out of the corner of his mouth to Ania, who stood at his right shoulder.

"Former Roman slave. Escaped from the arena."

"Why is she coming here?" Hercules asked in confusion already seeing the crowd beginning to part outside the palace for the approaching army.

Iolaus turned, overhearing their conversation, and explained, refusing to look at his wife Hercules noticed. "She abhors all Xena stands for, especially slavery. The Destroyer was no liberator of people in bondage; she used them just as Caesar did. If she joins she will be a valuable asset. Her swordsmanship is renowned." At the demigod's puzzled look he elbowed him sharply with a grin. "Hey, just because I was far away doesn't mean I didn't hear anything. She's almost as legendary as you!"

"Here she comes!" Iphicles crowed, pointing at the northern gate to the palace where the crowd parted.

*She was nothing more than a girl!* Hercules realized suddenly. Her clothes plain and homespun, really nothing more than a long shift that barely covered the violent scarring on her skin. She walked barefoot,

naked sword in her hand. She looked as if she had just walked all the way from sacked and burning Rome, barely managing to rush down to the peninsula before Xena followed and blocked the northern lands around Macedonia. But she had a presence and a command that demanded attention.

Behind her a stream of people, armed, some wearing cast-off Roman armor, followed determined and fierce. Most looked like they seen their share of battle, most likely fighting Xena. *Escaped slaves,* Hercules thought in wonder, *there must be thousands of them!* Obviously some were Greek and

were recognized by the crowd. Hercules saw the young woman smile as families were reunited with tears and laughter.

She climbed the steps to the dais with ease. Standing before Hercules she looked at him, the other kings and people carefully, one by one as if checking just to make sure it was safe for her and those who followed her. The whole city watched and waited in silence. Finally, in one violent motion she drove her sword into the stone step in front of Hercules.

It stood vertical, quivering slightly.

"I heard you're planning on fighting Xena," she began in a low voice that somehow carried throughout the city center.

"Fighting and winning," Hercules clarified, hiding a smile at the girl's bold words. Somehow though, she sensed his amusement and locked eyes with him, and within them Hercules could see someone old, older than himself, someone who had seen and experienced much and had every right to be forward. Despite what she was physically, she was no youth.

"Mind if we help?" she asked airily, gesturing behind her at those who followed.

"The more the merrier," Hercules replied with an eager grin at the thought of approaching battle. He proffered his hand and she clasped it without hesitation, grip strong.

The cheering started again, echoing off the stone walls of the palace until the very air vibrated. She let go of his hand and yanked her sword free. She turned slightly on the steps and urgently motioned some of her men to bring a litter forward.

They carried it quickly forward and halfway up the steps, Hercules suddenly recognized the injured figure and rushed down the steps to meet the litter.

It was Autolycus.

"What happened?" Hercules asked for what felt like the hundredth time after the ceremony had quickly been halted, most of the dignitaries following the litter inside to the coolness of the palace. The palace healer was even now looking over the tall man, the Lioness perched on a table top protectively over the wounded man, watching everything with a hawklike wariness.

"Xena, who else?" a young Amazon, Seris, snarled at his side, slamming the end of her bow down on the stone floor with a sharp crack.

Hercules paced anxiously back and forth beside the bed. Autolycus laughed weakly at the amazon's rancor-filled voice. "Blame her for everything huh? Rain, bad harvest, a demon from Tartarus?"

"Was it her?" Ania quietly pressed. Autolycus sighed and reached up with his uninjured arm to rub absently at his half-missing ear.

"I got careless, my own fault really."

Hercules blinked at the lack of arrogance in the man's tone; it was surprisingly refreshing but he wasn't sure he preferred it over his own Autolycus' presumptuous self-importance.

The Lioness snorted derisively. "Decided to free some of the camp prisoners while spying. Glad we could help you out before you took more than an arrow in the arm."

"That was damn foolish!" Iphicles scolded angrily, but there was more than a glint of approval in his dark eyes.

"Well, someone has to take over for Sal!" Autolycus groused in reply, closing his eyes and paling slightly as the healer manipulated one of his cracked ribs back into place.

The mood in the room turned subdued quickly at the mention of Salmoneus' name, and Hercules closed his eyes, wondering painfully what in the gods' name had happened to his good-natured friend in this timeline. Pushing away his remorse, he turned his attention to the matter at hand. "I hate to press,

Autolycus, but what did you see? Numbers, positions, anything?"

Autolycus tried to rise, but before the healer could press him down, what sounded like a warning hiss sounded from the Lioness who perched above the head of the cot. "Okay, okay!" Auto laid backed down with a relieved sigh. "Bring me the maps so I can point it out."

Iphicles pulled out several scrolls and unrolled them before the spy. Gesturing with his good hand, Autolycus outlined Xena's forces. "She's set up above the Macedonian boarder, perhaps above Thrace as well. An increased cavalry, obviously augmented by Roman remnants. Well equipped infantry. As for sails, if she risks the Adriatic at this time of year, we could see more than a dozen Roman warships coming from the west, from Sicily."

"We'll have to shift the fleet across land here at Corinth onto the west coast," Orestes offered, gazing critically at the map. "Luckily King Jason had the foresight to create a light enough ship to be transported the few leagues over land."

"We can also use the coast and bay at Pylos," Iolaus interjected. He'd been uncommonly silent from Hercules' perspective. *But then here, Iolaus doesn't know Sal or Autolycus or Joxer. He's been away for years.*

Hercules rubbed his aching eyes. Even if they won the war, drove Xena back, it wouldn't be the same. He'd be king, and his friends, those not dead, were not the same people. This world had changed them, and not for the better. Even Iolaus wasn't truly the same and for Zeus' sake he was married to the man's wife! *Was this just some other replacement, then? Was my father right? First I take Iolaus from the other reality and now I take this man as my partner, but it's not the same! The suffering here; and it is probably worse in the Sovereign's world! It wrong! It's all wrong!*

Iolaus' voice broke his despairing thoughts, bringing them back to the matter at hand. "It won't matter how numerous her fleet; we lure them in one by one, the waters are treacherous and narrow there, and we crush them."

"Good plan." Hercules nodded in weak approval. *First deal with the war, with poor twisted Xena, and then try and make things . . . right.*

Right.

Hercules choked on the thought. Iolaus being dead was not right!

*But what choice do I have? This?* he wondered with growing desperation.

Iolaus shot him a grin, that faded as he spoke, as he noticed the demigod's pale face and drawn brow. "Don't thank me, it's all those stories and ideas Jason used to talk about in the Academy. Remember, Fedutious?" he asked, turning to the old man who rested beside the archives he lovingly cared for in his old age, hoping the old memories would help his despondent friend.

"All I remember, Iolaus, was three undisciplined hooligans turning the entire place upside down," he scolded with a glint of parental fondness in his eyes. "Thank the gods I managed to straighten you all out," he finished with mock sageness.

"You?" Iolaus laughed at the joke, glancing over at Hercules to find his ploy had worked and Hercules was smiling faintly again.

"What about the land forces?" The centaur Xanon interjected, pawing the stone floor anxiously. "They will reach Amazon and Centaur lands first. We hold the frontier along with the remnants of the Macedonians."

"She may not drive her whole force north, she may circle around and enter part of her force through Thrace and then into Ionia and across the strait at the Hellespont," Hyppolyta countered, outlining the possible routes on the large map on the wall. "If she takes the cities along the coast -- Mytilene, Antandrus, Ephesus -- she'll have ships to take the islands and sail west towards Corinth and Athens."

"Leave that to the Pomira." The painted man gestured fiercely at his mate and his son, his words halting but clear through his accent. "We shall guard the strait and come around through Thrace to flank the Destroyer on the east as she thrusts her attack southward."

"The area is very mountainous, numerous villages are nestled all over the region and do wn through Thessaly. We could box Xena's forces in, or be boxed in ourselves," Hercules reminded them, regarding the map thoughtfully, turning away from emotions and thinking more practically, if only for the moment.

"Cavalry will be useless on the steeper hills, though with the Lioness' forces we have some more horsemen," Iphicles added, glancing at the young woman.

"We'll have to focus more on infantry then, use the terrain to our advantage," Orestes resolved firmly. "The long spearmen from Macedonia have trained most of my forces in the art. They are very useful for the initial charge. Our Queen's own archers can join the Amazon forces with your approval, Hyppolyta." The blond head turned to regard the Amazon queen.

The redhead nodded her approval and motioned towards Lilith. "She can join the rest of the archers under the Princess."

"Thermopoly," Iolaus said into the ensuring silence.

With a start, Hercules practically jumped at the word. It had been Iolaus' and his move in battle. They had defeated Dahak with it. *Win the war, loose the battle,* Hercules thought bitterly and then remembered that Thermopoly was a place as well. "What about it?" Hercules asked, eyes downcast.

"That's our fall back point. If Xena's attacks are successful, we can hold her back from Boeotia there. The pass can be held for days, even against a massively superior force. She would have to travel over the mountains with her entire army or go by sea to reach Athens, Thebes or Corinth. That," Iolaus pointed hard at the map, "is our gateway."

"Gates of fire," the Lioness murmured, nodding in agreement. "I took the liberty of leaving a token force there already, I had hoped to join them."

"And even if we eventually loose Thermopoly," Iolaus expanded, his own excitement fueling the others. "There's the narrow beach here at Marathon. We can still hold her off until the Pomira come from the east and behind to outflank her."

"Then," Autolycus all but gasped, an honest light of hope in his eyes. "Then it won't matter how large her force, she'll be forced to send in bits and pieces of her army. Even her catapults won't help her."

"Are ours ready?" Hercules asked Iphicles. His brother nodded.

"Greek fire has been supplied to most cities and many have taken the precaution of digging wells within the city walls to prevent thirst and poisoning."

"Have a care with grain supplies as well," Ania warned impassively. "We know from Salmoneus that she had starved and plagued a city before destroying it."

"That's it then," Iolaus agreed with his one-time wife quietly. He looked to Hercules, they all did then. They waited for him as commander of their forces to assign tasks and men and women to the field and to the sea. Assigning and ordering them to death in salvation of their homes, in a war that should have never been if not for his meddling. He found Iolaus' eyes and regarded him as friend and more-than-brother, for a long moment. Hercules realized that he could lose the hunter, lose him even after he paid with thousands of lives and futures to get him back. Once again Hercules felt the bile of guilt and remorse rise in his throat. Guilt over the deaths of his friends, his mother, of countless thousands. Guilt over Iolaus' death in Sumeria and bitter joy that he had the man back by his side.

*"Maybe you're looking in the wrong direction,"* Ania's voice echoed in his ears. His father's words too. Maybe looking back wasn't the answer to his dreams, his torn heart and soul. Maybe, just maybe, looking forward was.

But there wasn't time. Not nearly enough time, and he had no way as of yet to undo what he had wrought on the world. His father Zeus wouldn't remember changing time any more than Ares had when he sent Iolaus back to save Alcmene. There was no past, no future, there was only now. He couldn't make the choice, he couldn't contemplate it, not now. Right now he had Iolaus and they had work to do.

"Iphicles, I want you to supervise the fleet. Choose the captains and men wisely and head for Pylos. Take whatever you need," Hercules began, quietly clenching his brother's shoulder and squeezing just for a moment, eyes expressing more than words his trust in his brother's skill. The demigod then turned to the Pomira. "Guard Hellespont and work with the Ionians and Thracians. I want people protecting their own lands if possible. It puts heart and spirit into them. Those Amazon tribes in Anatolia will join you."

The Horde leader grunted his approval and nodded respectfully to Hyppolyta. "Centaurs and the rest of the Amazons and the archers will take to the hills and mountains along the border. Act as snipers, keep to the trees, use the terrain as your main advantage."

"We'll station some of the militia and the Spartan hoplites down by Pylos and the western coast islands in case Xena has orders for her troops to land or pillage. Others will be sent into Thessaly and the northern

frontier. We'll form a wall for the entire peninsula, leaving the east to the Pomira. The cavalry will wait farther back in the plains of Thessaly under His highness King Orestes and the Lioness will hold the men and women who will guard and fall back to Thermopoly and Marathon."

Hercules glanced at Iolaus and saw the eagerness for battle in his eyes, a chance to prove himself even though the demigod needed no proof to see the hunter's loyalty. "Iolaus and I will take to the front. Communication is important, however. Autolycus?" Hercules turned to the injured man.

He smiled. "My network is more than ready and able. All experienced trackers and woodsman. We should have no trouble."

"Good. Then we move out at noon," Hercules ordered. He regarded them all silently, friends and allies so altered and changed from what he was used to, but they were with him, their approval was evident in their eyes. It didn't matter what reality or timeline this was. He was needed and with Iolaus with him again there was no way they could lose.

"Sounds like fun."

"More fun than a human sacrifice. Bloodier too."

--One Fowl Day

"That's right! Spread the word! I'm a lover and a fighter!"

--Porkules

*************

XI.

The fighting was furious.

The combined forces of all of Greece held back the advancing tide of destruction that was Xena. The dark-haired warrior princess had been advancing through the Macedonian highlands, pressing forward against the few that remained on the frontiers. An easy victory, until she reached the Thessaly border. There the battle awaited her and every inch she hoped to win was soaked in blood.

It was going well. Xena's cavalry were unable to maneuver between the foothills and from there Amazons and freed slaves descended from all sides, vanishing like smoke into the scattered brush when pressed. They had reduced her army significantly by the time it reached the plains, evacuating what villages they could. Bands of Amazons would lead whole legions down tight valleys and box canyons only to spring rockslides on them. Her army had split into half a dozen pieces, much more ripe for the picking. But it was obvious the main force with Xena at the head was farther east.

Now just shy of the plains the two armies met face to face, guerrilla warfare giving way to all out chaos.

The sun welcomed the carnage, burning bright as with screaming warcries the two sides charged into the fray. The noise was deafening; the clanging of metal, the screams of horses, the hiss of the archer's bow, and the death cry of hundreds.

Standing amid the wildflowers and tall grass of early spring Hercules could only shake his head at the madness around him. *Such a beautiful place, now a killing ground.*

Hercules had refused armor as was his custom, and had joined the fighting side by side with the men and women of Hella. The Spartans held the east and west flanks, fighting with intensity beside the freed slaves of Rome. The long spearmen of Attica fought alongside the militia and the green hoplites of Arcadia.

Having grabbed a spear from a fallen solider, Hercules moved like a charging bull through Xena's troops, cutting a large clear path. Men fell and did not rise from one blow, he batted away swords, caught arrows and threw men dozens of feet in the air with seemingly little effort. Flexing his muscles he threw men aside like they weighed nothing, launching them high into the air.

His charges were risky but they inspired the men and women and they fought with increasing vigor.

But Hercules did not see the Greek men and women, the carnage around him. He saw only his allies, his friends as he sent them off to battle.

"I'll guard the Peninsula and stop the ships Hercules." Iphicles' words rang in his ears as he clasped his brother's wrist. "I won't let that soulless bitch trap us in our own land! For all those that died at Thebes,

I will win this."

Hyppolyta's smile as she nodded farewell and rode off with the fierce proud chief of the Pomira to guard the strait and Anatolia.

"Take care of yourself, Hercules," Lilith whispered in his ear before kissing him lightly on the cheek, for a moment shining with the joy of her youth before reality intruded.

Fedutious and Ania watched them go from the gate, waving as they marched north. Joxer was standing beside them clutching his lute, eyes vague and terrified.

"We will hold Thermopoly, or die trying," the Lioness assured him with a faint distant smile as she sharpened her sword; nothing more than a girl, heading for what might be a suicide mission without a second thought.

*How many of them are still alive?* he wondered as he grabbed an enemy officer and threw him into the waiting spears of his own men. *How many of them will soon be dead?* Whirling around, Hercules instinctively blocked an ax blow, wrenching the weapon away from the would-be killer and walloping him with the handle.

Looking anxiously around, he scanned the turbulent storm, looking for Xena. But all he saw was Draco, her lieutenant, perched on one of the foothills Orestes' cavalry and the Queen's Own Archers hadn't been able to control. From there the blood-thirsty man rained a steady hail of arrows down on the battlefield, not caring if they struck friend or foe.

The Spartans to the left were holding their own, but the right flank was weakening due to the inexperience of the valiant ex-slaves. Sometimes even sheer courage was not enough for experience. Over the roar of battle Hercules called out.

"Iolaus!"

From within the sea of death and dying a blond head popped up and blue eyes locked on blue. Nodding, the hunter instinctively headed for the right flank, drawing a few spearmen with him to rally the ex-slaves around the veteran Spartans and hold Xena's army back.

Iolaus too wore no armor and carried only his naked now-bloodstained sword. With a warrior cry that rivaled even a Harpy's he plunged into the enemy lines, spinning and feinting with such speed he dazzled and confused the enemy long enough to end their lives. With practical ease he dispatched man after man, turning their own thrusts and charges against them. The Spartans and the freemen were heartened by the sight of this golden whirlwind that left a trail of blood and bodies behind him and followed close at the heels of his destruction.

For hours it continued, until the sun hung low in the sky. Hercules had long since called in Orestes' cavalry and had advanced on Draco's hill. Pressing him and Xena's forces back the two Spartan flanks charged to crush the enemy like a trap between them.

In the middle of the turmoil, Hercules slammed a would-be-warrior in the head, whirling around to stop a back-stabbing soldier only to find it was unnecessary.

Iolaus yanked his sword free, splattering blood on both of them, grinning madly. "Watch your back, Herc."

"I thought that was your job," Hercules teased as he turned his attention back to the matter at hand, specifically another charging bull of a man, reenergized as he felt Iolaus take up position at his back, sword raised. He'd never felt safer than now, surrounded by hundreds of men who wanted his head.

"What? No benefits?" Iolaus called out in reply as redirected another soldier's weapon straight into his comrade before braining the man with the hilt of his sword.

"I'm sure I can offer you a great vacation package!" Hercules grunted as he kicked a spear out of another man's hand and then kicked him.

Iolaus belted a man right in the jaw with a strike so fast his hand blurred to the naked eye, before cocking his head over his shoulder to glance back at his friend. "Great! Risks, danger, change of scenery . . . and to think I nearly became a man of peace."

"Well, isn't this more fun?" Hercules asked with a laugh as he walloped an approaching man with one full turn of his spear overhead.

Iolaus rose from his crouched position, eyes alight with mischief as he watched the mob of enemies converge around them. "Yeah, but if I'd never given peace a try, I wouldn't know how to do *this.*"

Letting out a warcry, Iolaus leapt up overhead and seemed to spin in mid-air, not falling an inch while he dispatched over a dozen men with lightning quick near-fatal blows.

"Whew!" Iolaus landed on his feet facing his friend. He arched his eyebrow and cocked his head to one side expectantly. "Well, are you going to gape at me all day?"

Hercules shut his mouth with a snap, eyes wide in astonishment.

"What can I tell ya? Peace pays," Iolaus said with a laugh as Draco sounded the call for retreat. "I'll say this Herc, the hours are atrocious in this line of work! No lunch break, no nothing!"

Hercules brained several of the straggling men. Usually the demigod would not attack a fleeing man, but he knew that they'd only return tomorrow, and so did the hunter.

He dug his sword into the ground and grabbed a fallen bow. Plucking arrows from the dead around him and a discarded quiver he released bolt after blot into the soldier's backs. Yanking out the last arrow, a barbed one, from a corpse, Iolaus drew back the string until the line was tight enough to snap and took aim.

With a shriek Draco toppled from his horse, arrow embedded in his neck.

Nodding in grim satisfaction, Iolaus lowered the bow. "They'll be less of a trouble now. Without Draco, they'll have to return to the main army heading south, and that leads us to Xena."

Hercules rolled his head to the side and sighed. His adrenaline had been going for hours now and as the high drained from him he felt aches and pains and bruises he hadn't even known were there.

In the receding sound of battle, the cavalry and archers giving pursuit as was custom, the groans and cries of the wounded, friend and foe alike, filled the air. Casting Hercules a more sober glance, Iolaus headed for the nearest wounded man and began to help where he could.

Hercules slowly turned full circle, surveying the plain. The grass was blood-soaked, flowers trampled underfoot, the stench of death filling his mouth and nose with a metallic tang. Thousands lay dead, more still wounded. The retreating soldiers would be caught, trapped like rats somewhere in the foothills by the Centaurs and Amazons later that night and eliminated before news could reach the main camp and Xena.

He rubbed his eyes tiredly. The past few days had been exhausting, draining, and brutal. Hercules dropped his hands to the side and was about to follow his friend in helping the wounded when a cry of despair filled the air.

"NNOOOOOOOOOO!"

Hercules turned towards the source of the sound. The grief in the denial seemed to slice through the very air. It sounded like Iolaus, but Iolaus was fine. Hercules glanced quickly over his shoulder and saw the blond rise from his knees before a man who was even now being treated by an arriving healer, blue eyes wide in horror.

"Orestes," he breathed in horror and took off at a dead run for his cousin.

Hercules dashed after him wordlessly, leaping and skirting around the bodies that littered the field like broken abandoned toys.

Iolaus plunged headlong into the brush where the fighting had spread and fell to his knees at the sight that greeted him when he pushed into the first clearing.

Orestes clung to his fallen wife, holding and rocking her tenderly as if she were a child. Her auburn curls were tangled with leaves and twigs, a slain horse and the bodies of Linus, amazon archers, and enemy men lying around her.

"No," Iolaus whispered hoarsely, tears stinging his eyes. "No, no, no."

Hercules entered the clearing and pulled up short, face pale and breath ragged.

"Niobe," Orestes whispered brokenly as he smoothed his wife's cheek in his mindless grief, gently smearing blood, her blood on her white skin. "Niobe, it's going to be all right. Everything is going to be all right. I promise."

"Oh, Orestes . . ." she murmured sadly, knowing the truth, halting his babbling, dark eyes clouding as she raised a hand to his face. He caught her slender fingers with his and pressed a kiss to her palm.

"Don't leave me. I can't do this alone," he pleaded desperately, tears running unchecked down his face.

"I am-- with you . . . *always* my love," she whispered, fading. "Take . . . my breath away."

Orestes leaned over and did as his wife asked. He brushed his lips lightly and sweetly against his wife's, shaking with the force of his sobs. Her hand stroked his disheveled hair for a moment, savoring her husband's closeness, before going limp and falling away.

The king raised his head to glance at his beloved queen, now still in his arms. Closing his eyes he let out such a howl of rage and loss the hills reverberated with the sound, echoing for miles in anguish, setting birds to noisy flight.

Iolaus bowed his head, grieving openly for Niobe. Hercules stood stunned, paralyzed by the loss, not only of the queen but of the countless others behind him lying still on the battlefield. And the hundreds of others who were on the ships in the Adriatic, his own brother, facing Xena's warships. And over in Hellespont, the Pomira and the Amazons guarding the whole of Anatolia. And the newly freed token slave force who had traveled all the way from Rome, who may even now be holding off countless legions from Thermopoly, knowing that if they broke they doomed the entire peninsula to destruction. All those good people. . .

Shaking his head wildly, Hercules backed out of the clearing; unwilling, unable to stay, the weight of countless lives pressing down on his shoulders.

What had he done?

"The blood of a god flows through your veins, but your true strength comes from your heart."

"Iolaus said that to me once."

"Your friend knew you well."

--Resurrection

*****************

XII.

Hercules sat listless in his tent, brooding and lost. Night had fallen fast, the wounded were being tended to as best as they could. Outfits were being reorganized after the losses, some units completely destroyed. The casualty count on both sides had been enormous, the fighting brutal. But they had won. They had defeated at least one fourth of Xena's army within a week. There were sparse reports concerning the rest of the army from Anatolia and from Corinth. Autolycus' spy network was in fact several excellent trackers and some trained homing quail.

*Leave it to Salmoneus to use quail instead of pigeons.*

From what he'd been able to piece together, Xena's main force was slightly to the east of them, heading along the coast into Boeotia and the peninsula. Iolaus had been right. She was heading for Thermopoly.

Hyppolyta had sent a message also, tersely writing that the other part of the land army was in fact in Hellespont now and they were holding their own with the help of the locals and the Pomira and liberated slaves. The last of the unaccounted enemy were probably manning the ships that Iphicles was sent to destroy, but Hercules had had no word from Iphicles, only Ania's message that had assured him thing were looking well; she had foreseen a storm that would weaken Xena's ships.

*Now if we simply divide our force, send some to box in the army at the strait and divert the rest at Xena's back at Thermopoly and Marathon, if she gets that far, we'll crush her army in between,* Hercules thought as he traced the route carefully with his hand. *But do we even have enough fighters left to help even one of our allies, let alone both?* Suddenly he pushed the map away, snarling in fury. *Dammit!! This has gotten completely out of hand!*

"What am I *doing* here?" He moaned, burying his face in his hands. "I'm planning a war that shouldn't even be!"

*But what is the alternative?* his mind asked carefully. *Even if you could get things back the way they should be, you'd have accomplished nothing. You'd still be alone.*

Alone.

He didn't think he could bear it. Not when everywhere he went was a living reminder of his friend. Not when every time he closed his eyes he dreamed he was Iolaus, or dreamed of that desert place with light nighttime and the lost, familiar stranger wandering the dunes, trying to tell him something that he didn't understand. It was driving him crazy!

*--Can't you feel it?--*

Biting back a cry of pain Hercules stumbled out of his tent and made his way through the camp, ignoring the sentries he passed. All around him, men and women, centaurs and amazons, lay sleeping, some drugged for pain from wounds, others tossing restlessly amid nightmares of the day's horrors.

They would reach Thermopoly by noon if they marched at dawn and then how many will be here the next night? How many will lie amid the bloodstained grass instead?

Hercules stopped a moment by Orestes' tent, watching the shadows inside as Iolaus cared for his almost catatonic cousin and prepared the Queen for burial.

Dropping his head with a sigh he stared at his hands in helplessness. He'd made his choice. His father had warned him but he'd decided in spite of the difficulties meddling with time could cause. *Tartarus! I was damn lucky I didn't screw up the world the first two times I did this!* He strode off into the brush, waving absently at the sentry.

But oddly enough, whenever Iolaus was near the guilt would vanish. It was selfish, against his whole nature to consider himself before others, before his other friends, his family. But it had felt so right today in battle, amid the bloodshed, to have his brother at his back defending him, joking with him, showing off and laughing at his quips. It eased the ache he'd been caring around in his chest, loosed the knot in his heart, helped him forget the dreams.

With a loud sigh, he plopped down on a convenient log and leaned back to stare up at the cold starfire that burned in the heavens.

"There you are!" a soft voice intruded behind him, but it didn't startle Hercules. In fact he'd been expecting it, hoping for it. "Shouldn't you be resting?" Iolaus asked lightly; a well-known facade the demigod knew from experience the blond employed to mask his grief. The hunter came around and propped one foot up against the log and leaned forward to regard his friend. "Tomorrow we have to-- Hercules," he suddenly broke off, staring at his friend's drawn face. "Hercules, what's wrong?"

The demigod did not look at his partner's worried eyes, but instead addressed his words to the sky, "Iolaus, do you think one life is worth the lives and futures of thousands? I mean--" Hercules raised his hands in frustration and tried again to speak what was in his heart to the only person who could ever understand him. "How much would you be willing to give up for one person?"

Iolaus thought for a long moment before answering in a soft, serious voice. "Depends." He turned his back and walked slowly away from the log, remembering the day's events, the day's horrendous losses. "It depends on who it is and who it would affect. It's a judgment call, a choice you make."

"But what-- what if you can't choose? What if both choices damn you, damn you straight to Tartarus?" Hercules asked anxiously, looking at his brother, willing him now to turn around and face him.

"Well, in the East, what I learned, what I saw . . ." Iolaus trailed off and turned slightly to look at Hercules. He let a silent short laugh escape his lips as he crossed his arms tight across his chest. "They would have you divorce yourself from the rest of the world, of emotions and memories and let life lead you forward."

"Is that what you would do?"

Now Iolaus chuckled out loud, coming to sit beside his friend easily. "If I did, I wouldn't be here. I'd

be . . . back at the temple learning things, amazing things."

Hercules thought back to Iolaus' fighting during the day. His stamina had never flagged, his moves like lightning, his body defying gravity. With all the chances he took he should have been a mess, but weapons seemed unable to touch him. He turned to look at the hunter in the dark, speaking softly now too, wanting, needing to know, to hear the reasons why he had returned to Greece from his brother's own lips and not just from his hopeful heart. "Then why are you here, Iolaus? Why did you come back?"

"I . . . listened to my heart," Iolaus said simply, emotion coloring his words.

The demigod released a relieved breath he didn't even know he'd been holding, more than a little pleased at the wealth of feeling evident in those few words. Hercules smiled slightly in fond bittersweet memory. "And what did your heart tell you?"

"Go home." Iolaus' gaze locked with his, eyes burning bright. "Go home and help your family, your brother."

Hercules' breath caught and he felt a joy within him, a bond and connection that he had bled from for months after Iolaus had been torn from his side. But even now in his partner's blue eyes there was a longing, a wound that Hercules could bet had its origins in Thebes. This had been more difficult

for his brother than he had imagined to return to Greece. "What did you give up to be here, Iolaus?" he asked quietly.

Iolaus stood and spread his hands expressively. "Peace. Complete peace free from my past, my self, everything."

He turned and stared at the demigod. "What would you have to give up, Herc?"

Hercules shut his eyes in pain and tried to gather up the strength to tell Iolaus. *Maybe I shouldn't, maybe this is all wrong,* a part of him worried, but he silenced it quickly. He could share anything with Iolaus, anything.

He opened his eyes and tried not to let the sudden unexpected tears that filled them fall as his voice cracked on the word. "You."

For a long moment Iolaus stood in silence, face emotionless as he processed what the demigod had just told him. Then carefully, "Have you made your choice?"

Slapping his knees in frustration, Hercules rose quickly to his feet, his soul bursting and the words of truth spilling from his lips in a rush. "Choosing got me in trouble in the first place. I *did* choose, not

thinking about the consequences to everyone else." He ran a hand through his hair, trying to think. "I thought everything would be fine, I've done it before, I've fixed the past, but this time--"

"Hold on, hold on a second!" Iolaus raised his hands to stop his friend's babbling. "You already chose? You chose me?" he asked in clarification. Hercules didn't need to answer in words, it was all there on his face. Iolaus dropped his hands to his side and suppressed a chill that ran up his spine. In a very calm voice he spoke the truth he read in the demigod's tortured eyes.

"I'm dead, aren't I."

It wasn't a question but Hercules found he could not deny it, could not lie to spare the hunter the pain. "And--and all this," Iolaus continued, voice cracking as he turned full circle, gesturing around him. "All this never should have happened."

"Iolaus . . ." Hercules reached out and grasped his brother's shoulder tightly, as if trying to share his strength with the blond, trying to take the pain and knowledge away.

"You did this for me?" he asked, voice filled with wonder.

Hercules swallowed painfully and nodded, the word "yes" a mere whisper on his lips.

"And you're having trouble deciding whether or not to *fix* this?" he asked in bewildered amazement. "On the possible eve of all of Greece's destruction? You're having trouble with this?!" Iolaus' voice rose in humorous indignation as he stamped his foot, eyes twinkling merrily.

"WHAT?!" Hercules jaw dropped at his friend's chagrined, accusing tone. Suddenly angry, he grabbed Iolaus by the forearms and shook him, trying to make him see. "You would be DEAD! Don't you understand!? Dead!" To Hercules' horror, the tears had escaped and he could feel their warm salt

tracks on his cheeks.

"But what about the people, what about the others you spent your whole life protecting?" Iolaus urged gently, clasping his brother's arms, eyes filled with compassion and empathy.

"*We* spent our lives protecting them, Iolaus. You *died* protecting them." Hercules cried through clenched teeth, not understanding how Iolaus could be so calm about this, this of all subjects! "But I couldn't save *you*. Damn the world, give it to that bastard Dahak, it doesn't matter, I couldn't save *you*!"

"Hercules, I'm not the first person you've lost," Iolaus tried to reason with him.

"Don't you see?" he pleaded, wanting Iolaus to understand. "I loved my wife, and the children, oh gods how I miss them, and beautiful Serena, but no one, not even my mother knew me like you did! We spent our lives fighting back to back the way we promised. And if I'd listened to you in the first place, this would have never happened! It's All My Fault!" he cried, punctuating each word with a shake of his friend which Iolaus bore stoicly, more touched by the depth of emotion and doubt Hercules was expressing. "And now I've screwed up the rest of the world as well! Ruined everyone's lives! I'm not a hero, I destroy everything I touch!"

Iolaus tightened his grip on his friend, heart aching for him. "Hercules, listen to me! You did what you had to, I did what I had to, there and here. You can't go against yourself anymore than I can! I had to come back to be by your side just as you have to listen and answer the cries of help, no matter what the cost! It's who we are!" Iolaus insisted, eyes bright with tears. "Deny that and you deny both of us!"

Hercules' hands fell to his side, releasing Iolaus'. "I can't do this without you," he said simply, voice breaking. "I thought . . . for a while I could, but every time I close my eyes I'm somehow . . . *you* inside," he explained desperately, hoping if no one else could understand, at least his brother could. "I see you and all I know is that it's not real, that when I wake you're not there and I'm alone."

"Hercules." The hunter shook his head and took a step closer to his partner. "Hercules, I'm right here." Iolaus took Hercules' hand in his and placed it over the demigod's heart. "Can't you feel it?" he whispered anxiously.

The words cut at him, burned and seared. Hercules nearly collapsed under the weight of it all. His brave, loyal, noble brother who had a heart bigger than any he'd ever known was willing to smilingly give his life for the whole world. He was a hero even in the face of this, his own destruction, and still he thought only of his childhood friend and partner. It was humbling, it was powerful and bright, and it filled Hercules for that moment in a way he'd never felt before.

*"Maybe you're looking in the wrong direction,"* Ania's words echoed through him again.

*--Can't you feel it?--*

Hercules smiled tremulously through his tears and pulled his brother into a hug that reminded him of the last and final time he'd been like this, after Dahak had been defeated. It tore at him, but he had done it.

He'd made his decision.

He only prayed it was the right one.

"Y'see Hercules, sometimes to win the battle you gotta go down with the ship."

"That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard!"

--The Academy

******************

XIII.

"If I can get that, we win. If I can't--" Hercules heard his voice break on the last word and turned to stare up into the face of his youthful mother, pregnant more than a few months with him.

Hercules hadn't seen this part of Iolaus' trip back in time. He'd been knocked out by the Sovereign while Iolaus had spoken to his mother, yet now here he was, in Iolaus' shoes, literally living it. He was kneeling by his own dear mother in the very barn that had burned all those years ago.

"You're willing to risk your life for me and my baby?" Alcmene asked in amazement, taking his hand, Iolaus' hand, in hers.

"He would do the same for me. He has many times," Iolaus assured her calmly, rising to sit beside her on the hay bale. The words that Hercules had missed because he was unconscious in Between worlds touched him deeply, but nothing surprised him more than what escaped his lips next. "I am who

I am today because of him. I am one of the people whose life he changed. One of the many. And I love him like a brother."

There was conviction in Iolaus' tone, such passionate belief Hercules groaned internally, knowing what he had to do, what he had to loose for the sake of the known world. He'd have to give up this man, his best friend and brother, forever and spend possibly the rest of his life dreaming these scenes from the hunter's life until he went mad or worse.

Alcmene's next words, however, brought him out of his depressing thoughts sharply. "I was hoping for a girl."

*WHAT?? She wanted me to be a girl?*

Iolaus ducked his head and suppressed a giggle of merriment. An all too familiar laugh.

*I can't believe this!* Hercules groused internally, trying hard to feel angry, but Iolaus' subdued laugher was contagious.

*Why did Iolaus never tease me about that?* he wondered, painfully willing to give anything for the hunter to be by his side if only to heckle and argue with him. *And listen to his bawdy off-key songs. If I

did have him, I don't think I'd ever complain again. Well,* he amended quickly, *not too much anyway.*

He felt himself rise without his own volition and slip out the back of the barn to go confront the mad blond goddess. Hercules could feel his friend's resolve, his acceptance of his fate, the willingness to do

anything to preserve the timeline, a timeline Hercules had thrown to the wind to get his partner back. Sighing, Hercules tried to block it out, not wanting to see or experience any more of his brother's life. It hurt too much, especially now when he realized that Iolaus would soon be lost forever.

He pushed open the door and suddenly noticed he was in his own body and the barn, indeed all of Greece, had vanished behind him. Staring down at his own familiar hands he searched the now-familiar dunes with his eyes for the shadowed figure he had seen before in this strange desert that seemed never-ending.

It was sound, not sight that drew Hercules to the man. The sound of a keening wail, muffled by the sand. Climbing to the top of a dune Hercules watched, helpless and paralyzed, as the man cried out his

frustration and pain, pounding the unforgiving ground again and again.

Hercules wanted to comfort him, to tell him things were going to be all right, but he couldn't. He could only watch, feeling like some voyeur to the man's unspeakable grief that so echoed his own.

Finally sighing and abandoning his futile physical rage, he sat up, the odd shaped moon shining on him, illuminating him even as it paradoxically cast him in shadow.

"Why?" he called out to the sky, voice hoarse, desperate. "Why?!"

It was a question Hercules had been asking himself for months now. Finding his tongue he answered, sympathy and compassion in his voice, knowing nothing he could say could make it better, but maybe knowledge that the lost man wasn't alone would help.

"I-- I don't know," he called, words pulled by the wind.

The stranger looked up with a jerk, eyes bright and wild and tear-filled. He took several gulping breaths and shook his head. "You've got to know!" he pleaded.

Hercules spread his hands futilely and in bewilderment, wondering why he felt he was letting someone very close to him down because of his lack of knowledge. "I don't. I-- I wish I did."

"You do," the familiar voice assured him with sudden strength. "*Listen.*"

Hercules cocked his head intently, trying with all his might to hear whatever it was. And then faintly he heard it behind him. Quickly he turned towards the sound and found himself sitting up in his bed inside his tent, the sound of the horn awaking the soldiers in the pre-dawn light.

Letting out a moan, Hercules rubbed his eyes. To his surprise he found that he was shaking violently. The dreams were become more confusing and more vivid in their insistence. Pushing aside the dream he focused on the here and now. Rising from his pallet he splashed some water on his face and slipped into his vest and boots. Already outside he could hear people packing up and the far distant creek of the catapults and Talos' Fist — which Queen Melissa had been generous to give to Hercules as a wedding

present -- on their way down the east coast towards Thermopoly.

He had decided last night to head down the coast. Hyppolyta had all but finished mopping up the army at the strait, not surprising since she had the Pomira at her back. But the Lioness and her troops had been holding the narrow pass for maybe days now, no one knew for sure, they needed reinforcements soon.

"Hercules," Iolaus' voice called from right outside the tent. "It's time."

Exiting quickly, knowing the servants and those unable to fight would stay here and take care of his belongings as they waited for Hyppolyta and the Pomira, Hercules immediately marched southeast along the bluff, the sea just out of sight, Iolaus at his side, grabbing breakfast off the trees as they went.

Hundreds of men and women followed, some dodging in and out of the brush, some racing far ahead to check their path, others gathering at the perimeter, wary and eyes open. The cavalry flanked the marching troops as they made a quick pace towards their goal. Orestes sat rigid and straight in his saddle, looking for all the world like a king going off to war, but his eyes betrayed him every time. Their haunted blue emptiness reminded Hercules of the stranger in his dream, lost and so alone, trapped in a prison with no doors or locks that stretched as far as the eye could see.

Hercules swallowed and glanced away from the king. He resembled Iolaus too much for such a pained look not to affect the demigod deeply. *Well as soon as this is over, I'm going to fix this, make things right, and then Niobe will be alive,* Hercules thought to himself staunchly.

*But then won't Orestes be dead?* a voice nudged him in his head. *Not to mention Ania and Iolaus.*

Hercules turned to glance at his brother who walked with the same easy silent-footed stride he always had. If they weren't surrounded by an army, Hercules might have been tempted to say it was just like old times. But it wasn't and he knew he couldn't keep this for long. At least the troops gave him and Iolaus some space and privacy.

Startling the demigod slightly, Iolaus suddenly asked, "Have you figured out how you are going to make this right?"

"I've a few ideas," Hercules answered slowly. There was the Chronos stone for sure but what in the past would he have to change to make things right? What if it was a whole string of events and not just one moment?

"The Chronos stone has been broken. I suppose you can ask one of your relatives," Iolaus continued as they pressed forward, leaping up to pluck an apple off a tree. They were making good time since they didn't have to climb the mountains to reach the pass as Xena had, only thread their way though the valley.

"Are you reading my mind?" Hercules asked, indignantly and jokingly.

Iolaus looked up at him, finally meeting his eyes for the first time since last night and the painful revelation of the truth. "Maybe," he allowed between bites.

"Don't talk with your mouth full," Hercules advised him with a smile and then realized that Iolaus wasn't kidding. Amazed, Hercules tried not to gape. "I-Is that one of the *things* you learned in Chin?"

Iolaus threw him a dirty look for the comment on his manners and then shrugged ambiguously, "It's not something you talk about."

"Why not?" Hercules asked curiously.

"It ruins it. It's a very singular and personal thing. You can't share it with anyone, and after a while anyone you wanted to share it with doesn't really matter to you any more." Iolaus' eyes went distant and hard for a moment, remembering. "It's a lot to take."

Hercules thought back to his own predicament and nodded slowly and painfully. Iolaus was right -- *as always* he thought in fond exasperation -- he was going to have to ask one of his relatives if he could go back and straighten things out. *Just which one would do this for me here?*

"You're on such good terms with most of them; I'm sure Aphrodite or Athena or even Apollo would send you back. It would benefit them too," Iolaus put in, his mind going over the possibilities.

"Ah-Ha! You *are* reading my mind!" Hercules declared, punching the blond lightly in the arm, grinning now, forgetting his current predicament for the much more entertaining thought of teasing the truth out of his best friend.

"I am not!" Iolaus refuted, a little flustered.

"Then how did you know what I was thinking?" Hercules pressed with a laugh.

"I *didn't* know what you were thinking! How in Tartarus should I know!? I figured things out for myself!"

"C'mon Iolaus! Give me a straight answer!" Hercules begged, sounding like he was a kid again and Iolaus had to smile. "Can you?"

"Can I what?" Iolaus asked innocently.

Letting out a sigh of frustration and throwing his hands up in the air, Hercules rolled his eyes. "I give up! I don't know why I bother!"

"Neither do I!" Iolaus said with a laugh, tossing his apple core to a lieutenant on a horse, who waved his thanks and fed it to his animal.

Iolaus turned back and their eyes met and the merriment drained out of the demigod along with his color.

"Hercules . . ." Iolaus began.

"Later," the demigod replied, voice weaker than he would have liked it to be, praying that there would be a later. "We've got a war to win."

The air shrieked as the Greek Fire tore through it and landed with a colossal crash amid Xena's troops.

"Again!" Hercules roared above the screams of burning soldiers.

They had reached Thermopoly by midday and amid the glories of spring they took to burning Xena's army out. It was a massive job. The entire valley at the gate was swarming with troops and horses and most importantly Xena herself. Having reached the Northern heights at which they could see and smell the Aegean Sea they had maneuvered the various catapults into overhangs by sheer manpower. Soon after they began to rain down metal spikes and burning oil on her men who even now waited patiently to advance into the pass and take the gate that opened up to the rest of Greece.

Iolaus rushed over to his side, yelling in his ear the information he had. "The Amazons and centaurs have hidden in the brush around them. Xena has sent a force to scale the hill to our position. The Spartans and the hoplites will take the center charge. Orestes has decided to lead the archers and the cavalry. He is prepared to take the hill to the southwest where Xena's tent is."

The grim line that his brother's mouth had become when relating this news to him did not reassure the demigod. Orestes was not all that stable at the moment. It was risky to let him be the one to lead the assault against Xena, but there was no one else.

"Take some of the oil and slick the grass right below the heights. When Xena's men try to take the catapults, light it," Hercules ordered. "Tell the troops to flank Xena, not take her head on, the fire will do that for us. We'll meet in the center and then drive southward and help the Lioness. "

Iolaus nodded, wincing as the air screamed with another flying missile.

"Any news from the Lioness?"

Iolaus shook his head, moving out of the way from a scurrying soldier even as Hercules lifted another vat of oil to pour into the bowl-shaped head of the catapult. "Not even the quails could get through. All I know is that Xena's been here almost a week and has had her soldiers taking shifts day and night to press forward."

"A week. . ." Hercules moaned. "They've been holding Thermopoly that long? Then Draco's attacks were diversionary."

"Diversionary, maybe but he could just have easily reached Corinth and Athens, burning his way through Thessaly if we hadn't stopped him first," Iolaus assured him with a comforting hand on his shoulder. "They'll make it. They're to stubborn to die, especially against Xena."

"Fire!" Hercules ordered and then turned to his friend, battle fury rising in his eyes. Iolaus nodded and they clasped wrists tightly for a long moment, staring at each other as if to memorize each other's features, just in case.

"Let us end this."

"Surrender."

"A wise move. Now throw down your weapons and say you're sorry."

--Porkules

"Yes, but if you die then they win."

"I won't die! At least I hope I won't. Hercules wouldn't."

--King for a Day

******************

XIV.

Xena's army was unprepared for the attack. Spartans, Amazons, hoplites, spearmen, ex-slaves and centaurs; they all burst from the trees and the brush and came charging into the camp. The Destroyer had thought that only the catapults and a small force had been sent to distract them from Thermopoly. Now, realizing her error, Xena arched her back, threw back her head, and howled in anger.

"What in Tartarus is going on? Where did that bastard son of Zeus come from?" she roared, grabbing one man after another and shaking them roughly. "Draco was supposed to finish him! We outnumbered him three to one even with that slave bitch's forces!"

"He--he must have used the terrain against him, My Lady!" one of her lieutenants, Barias she thought his name was, croaked even as she tightened her grip on his neck.

"Rouse all the men! Send everyone you can down that fucking pass! I want Thermopoly, and I want that bastard DEAD! Do you hear me?"

"Of course, My Lady!" a chorus of voices frantically assured her as they dashed from the tent.

"Forgive me, Ares!" Xena moaned even as she motioned for her slave girl to come hobbling painfully forward on crooked legs from the corner she cowered in. "I will kill him for you, I swear it! And I will mount his head on a pole and leave it to rot in Corinth from where I will rule in your honor and glory." She turned her head sharply towards the slave, belting her in the jaw. "Not the gold armor Gabrielle, the black. Today I am Death, today I am the Destroyer of Nations," she hissed, dark madness clouding

her eyes.

Without flinching, the strawberry blond girl reached for the black armor, eyes devoid of all life from the Destroyer's perspective. Xena moved and let the girl assist her with the buckles, not seeing the pure unadulterated hatred that sprang in the girl's green eyes the moment her back was turned.

The Greek forces initially tore through Xena's defenses like wet paper, but soon the Warrior Princess' commanders joined the field, quickly organizing and rallying her troops. Hercules could only watch helpless as more men poured into the Gates of Fire as the Lioness had so aptly called them, pressing

whatever remained of her token force.

*If they break . . .* Hercules thought grimly, grabbing a soldier's spear, knocking him down and then sending the missile flying, taking out one of Xena's long haired lieutenants before he could scream.

The catapults had halted their deadly rain, adjusted the range and now caught the soldiers that were entering the pass at Thermopoly. *Quick thinking!* Hercules thought with pleasure. *Mental note: promote whoever thought that up!*

Suddenly he shook himself, shocked at the thought. There would be no promotions, there would be no war. They were just going through the motions for now until he could set things *right.* Hercules' hand flashed out and caught an arrow that had had his name on it and snapped it before wheeling around and disarming yet another potential threat with a kick that sent the man flying.

*This was all futile! I only have to make sure that Greece is still standing so that everything we fight for here never has to be!* Hercules scanned the battlefield that was quickly turning vicious and more than

brutal. Kills were gruesome on both sides as desperation set in. *All this suffering . . . And for what?*

"Heads up, buddy!" Iolaus' voice roared and instinctively Hercules ducked and felt his friend go flying overhead to kick away a very large impressive spear that would have caught the demigod right between the shoulders. Iolaus landed on his feet, agile as a cat. "Be more careful!" the blond scolded, whirling around to slice through an enemy, then turning and leaping into the air and bull-kicking four more right in the face with lightning speed.

"If I was, you'd be out of a job," Hercules called back with a laugh, relieved his brother was here to dispel his dark thoughts, and his guilt, if only for a little while longer.

*Enjoy it!* he yelled at himself angrily, almost unexplainably in tears. *Enjoy every moment of it, for you'll never have it again!*

"Back to back once again!" Iolaus crowed, lashing out like a serpent with his sword, hacking into Xena's troops with deadly efficiency. Hercules himself had long since given up on just going gentle, his blows were now fatal and forceful. This was war.

"I guess Cheiron was right after all."

"Yeah, you and that stupid metaphor!" Hercules teased, lifting a man high above his head and using him as a human club against his comrades.

"Hey, it wasn't stupid!" Iolaus retorted indignantly, bracing himself against the demigod's back for a moment in order to lash out with his feet and then vault over an advancing line and end their lives before they could turn around and face him.

"'You can't pick up a pebble with one finger?'" Hercules repeated mockingly with a grin. "I can't believe you knew the answer to that! I mean, where did he come up with that? Centaur and Oracle Riddle School?"

"I'll have you know that without your thumb, you're toast!" Iolaus insisted haughtily, coming face to face with his friend. Hercules smiled and blindly, instinctively reached out and punched two more soldiers aside as Iolaus held up his blade to block a downward blow before yanking out his dagger and plunging it into the man's unprotected belly.

"Well, let's get to work then!" Hercules announced, turning around to face the next wave of attackers, confident that Iolaus would be beside him, if only for a little while longer.

*One last swan song, and if this works, it would have never happened to anyone but me. Just like that thing with Serena.* Clenching his jaw tightly, Hercules threw all of his anger and his frustrations into his

fighting, using she power to plow through Xena's forces, turning organization into anarchy, Iolaus at his back, his speed and agility confounding the enemy long enough to be slaughtered.

Arrows and fire whizzed through the air. Out of the corner of his eye, the cavalry emerged and wedged their way through the enemy at enormous cost to divide Xena's command hill and Xena herself from her troops. It was a desperate gamble on Orestes' part that paid off. *A desperate gamble from a desperate man,* Hercules thought sadly.

They were reaching the pass, inch by bloody inch, as the Greek flanks met in the middle and pressed forward, southward, through the blood-soaked burning camp. Behind him, there was a sudden burst of heat and instead of being completely surrounded by troops, Hercules now found his back was free of enemies, the oil-slicked hillside below the catapults ablaze.

Heartened by the success, Amazons let out piercing warcrys and centaurs charged into battle. Spears and arrows seemed to blot out the burning sun and hoplites ground the grass into dust. Horses screamed and ran rampant throughout the enemies' forces and fewer and fewer men made it to Thermopoly.

Now that they were closer, Hercules could hear the even louder echoing din of the battle from within the pass. Screams and cries, the clash of weapons bounced off the canyon walls and almost drowned out the valley battle noise.

Hercules pressed forward with the Spartans at his side. The ex-slaves fought and died with a fury unmatched, trying to unite with their comrades on the other side of the dark army.

He glanced once more at the command hill and found Orestes was holding Xena's forces back, giving him the opportunity he needed. Gathering the attention of all those around him with his eyes, the Greek forces made one final charge at Xena's line, now guarding the pass.

Taking up a fallen sword, Hercules sliced through the foe like they were so much ripened wheat, Iolaus at his side. Hot blood splattered everywhere as swords and spears crashed and sliced into unsuspecting flesh, past armor and leather to find warm heartsblood to drink.

A bunch of fools yelled impressively as they made a charge at Iolaus and Hercules, obviously believing that without its head the Greek army would fail. Whether they were right or not they would never know. Hercules dropped his sword and turned quickly to Iolaus, knocking his sword away too. "Iolaus! Thermopoly!" he cried.

"Hercules! I know where we are!" Iolaus yelled back in exasperation, belting a man before reaching for his sword, but he never got a chance to grasp it.

"Whoa! What are you--?" Hercules grabbed him by the arms and placed them back to back, and flipped Iolaus over his shoulders and head to have the blond warrior come down right on top of the enemies' head.

Iolaus shook himself and smiled. "Ha! It worked! I don't believe it! What did you call it again? Thermopoly?"

"Of *COURSE* it worked!" Hercules kicked Iolaus' sword his way and grabbed his discarded one as well. He rolled his eyes and sighed in exasperation. "Have some faith, will ya'?"

"Of course, great King. I bow before the People's Hero," Iolaus said in mock reverence, a giggle giving him away.

"Don't start with me," Hercules warned good-naturally, skewering a man just behind the hunter. "You know we are fighting a war here!" Iolaus laughed and brandished his sword once again, ready to charge the enemy.

Hercules dropped the sword and took hold of an advancing soldier's spear, wrenching it out of his hand and backhanding him into his own side's weapons. He brought it up like a staff to block the downward chop of an ax and then whirled around to take the wielder in the stomach and tossing him away. Iolaus' sword and feet caught the next two anxious for his personal destruction but an inopportune arrow grazed his sword arm and before he could make the transfer from right to left hand one of seven daggers he had

hoped to bat away, slipped by him and found its mark.

"HERCULES! NNNNOOOOO!" Iolaus roared like a wounded animal. Screaming at the top of his lungs, the blond became a whirlwind, clearing away a score of soldiers before he rushed back to his fallen friend.

There was a coldness that started in his legs and a dizzy pain that lanced through his chest. He fought for breath, hand clasping the knife hilt that protruded from his chest. Metallic warmth filled his mouth, salty like tears. *Or like blood,* he thought vaguely.

He felt hands lifting him, arms holding him close and he fought to force his eyes open to see what had happened.

"Oh Hercules, hang on! Don't leave me, buddy! For the gods' sake, don't you *dare* leave me!" a terrified voice begged, sobbed in his ears.

*Leave?* he wondered distantly. *Like on a ship?*

The world melted around him and Hercules could have sworn he smelled the sea over the scent of oil and burning. He turned and saw Iphicles at the helm even as fire rained down upon the ships.

"Sir! We're taking on water!" A sailor, Marcus Hercules recognized, yelled.

"Get off the ship! We've got enough sail left," Iphicles ordered, taking the tiller firmly in hand. "Get everyone off! I'm preparing to ram! If this ship goes down, I'll take one of those fucking bastards with me!"

"But sir!" Marcus gasped even as the crew jumped overboard, swimming strongly to a nearby ship.

"Move Marcus! That's an order!"

"It's been an honor serving with you sir!" Marcus saluted after a moment, swallowing painfully. "We'll wait for you once it's over! We won't leave you to drown, sir!"

Iphicles smiled, his eyes clear and bright for the first time in years Hercules guessed as he watched in horror as his brother prepared to commit suicide. "Go on!"

"Iphicles . . ." Hercules reached out to touch his brother's arm but the image shattered, breaking up into a thousand pieces that reformed into the throne room at Corinth.

Joxer sat half-hidden underneath a table, playing a haunting plaintive melody over and over as Ania knelt by the throne rocking back and forth, rubbing her hands, blood dripping from between her fingers.

"Oh gods, I can't lose him! Not again! I love him!" She cried, eyes unseeing. "I love him! I love him!"

"He's safe, Ania!" Hercules knelt beside her, trying to get her to look at him. "Iolaus is safe. He loves you too. Once this is all over . . ."

"This is far from over!" Xena shrieked orders like a harpy as she mounted her steed but she found that there was no one to hear her. Whirling around she saw a blond-haired man with a bloody sword advance slowly on her. Desperately she turned, looking for her soldiers, but she had lost them, they were either dead or soon to be that way.

She had lost.

Snarling in fury, refusing to give up, she leapt from her horse and grabbed the slave wench -- Gabrielle, Hercules recognized heart clenching -- by the hair, using the unresisting child as a shield.

Orestes seemed finally shaken from his stupor and bloodwrath by the sight of the helpless young woman and held up a hand for his men and archers to stop.

"Now come and try it, you pathetic bastards!" Xena called out triumphantly "You don't know who you're dealing with! I am the Destroyer of Nations! Ares' Chosen! I will write my name across the world in blood!"

"Your blood," a small firm voice intruded quietly. Xena's blue eyes snapped down to look at the redhead but not before Gabrielle's blade had found its mark, buried deep in the chinks of the warrior princess' armor.

Letting out a high-pitched gasp, Xena grabbed the girl's neck and snapped it like a twig before falling to the ground, dead from the poison smeared blade . . .

The blade flashed up to block yet again, but her arms were tired, and adrenaline can only work for so long. They could not hold out any longer and Hercules watched in helpless horror as Xena's men pushed through the pass as much in a hurry to kill the slaves as they were to run from the approaching tide of Greek warriors.

Blood and guts literally ran down the stone "walls" of the pass, the dead littered knee-high in some places, the ex-slaves all but wiped out, slaughtered.

"Look out!" he called, but he couldn't be seen, his warning unheard. The Lioness' sword was wrenched from her grasp, her arm broken in the process. Over half a dozen men surged forward to deliver the killing blow. The momentum of the fatal wounds from the back, the front and the side lifted her dying, broken body up in the air several feet in a silent scream, blood filling her mouth and spilling down her chin.

She was dead before even one of them removed their swords; Thermopoly was Xena's for the taking.

Except Xena was dead.

There was an explosion of sound from the opening of the pass and Xena's remaining troops abandoned the slaughtered slaves, eyes wide in horror as the tide of hoplites came streaming in, death their clarion call. The Lioness had done it. She had held on long enough for reinforcements, though it had meant the death of every one of her men and women. But above all that Hercules heard a voice calling his name, desperate and heartbroken.

He blinked once and looked up to see Iolaus, eyes filled with tears and devastation, watching over him.

"Hercules, *please*!" he begged wildly. "Don't die!"

*Was that what the pain was? Was he dying?*

"Cold. . ." he managed to gasp, his lungs burning with effort, numbness spreading

"Hercules, I'm right here!" Iolaus sobbed, grabbing his brother's hand tight in his. "Can't you feel it? Can't you feel *me*?"

Hercules smiled softly, the feeling of oneness, of brotherhood between them so strong it filled him with light. "Iolaus . . ." he whispered.

And then Hercules, Son of Zeus, King of Corinth, leader of all of Greece, People's Hero and brother to Iolaus breathed his last.

In our faith there are no accidents, all things happen for a reason."

--Resurrection

"Iolaus, this--this isn't right. You're dead."

"Well, I was hoping you wouldn't notice."

--Resurrection

******************

XV.

"Son, son, wake up! Wake up now!"

Hercules blinked, trying to figure out just where in Tartarus he was. Someone was shaking him none too gently and he recognized his father's voice after a moment. He remembered blood, a battle, Iolaus . . .

"Iolaus!" he sat up with a cry.

"Easy there!" Zeus cautioned, pressing a glowing hand over what had been a gaping wound in his chest. Stunned, Hercules reached up with his hand to feel where the dagger had caught him in the chest and remembered the agony it had caused.

He glanced over at the king of the gods and blinked again slowly. "A-am I dead?" His father would not meet his eye and Hercules grew more than a little worried. "I can't be dead! Not now! I've got to go back and fix the mess I've made in the world! Niobe is dead, and so is Gabrielle and Xena. And Iolaus, I can't just leave him there! Jason and Iphicles, they *need* me!" He grasped hold of his father's orate shirt and yanked him closer, shaking him, his voice rising in volume and insistence with every word..

"Hercules, it's all right. It's over," Zeus soothed, trying to pry his boy's hands from his person.

"I *can't* be dead! I can't leave them like that!" he yelled in response, growing more angry upon hearing his father's calming tone.

"Hercules, you don't understand, it's over. The timeline has returned to normal, your friends' lives back the way they were. It's as if it never happened."

Hercules gaped at his father, releasing his hold on the immortal man. "B-but how? I never got around

to. . . we were in the middle of the battle, I had no time, and the Chronos stone . . . The Lioness, she was just a girl, Xena had broken through, but she was already dead, and Iolaus--"

"Shhh. It's all right son." Zeus placed his hands on the demigod's shoulders, quieting his babbling. "The situation this time was a . . . little different than the last two times you played with time," he admitted

at last. Hercules' eyes shot up and narrowed in suspicion.

"What do you mean?" he demanded. "Are you saying it wasn't real? That it was all a dream?"

"I didn't say that," Zeus countered harshly as his son's tone rose in anger. "It's . . . complicated and difficult to explain."

"Just tell me the truth, was it real? Was I really there with Iolaus?" Hercules ordered more than asked, shrugging off his father's grip and rising to his feet.

"Did it feel real?" Zeus pressed him gently.

"Dammit father, that's not what I want! Yes or no, was it real?!" Hercules ran his hands through his hair and practically yelled the words at the king of the gods.

"I can't answer that," Zeus replied impassively, standing now and straightening his robes absently. "I can only tell you I did exactly as you asked of me even though I warned you of the consequences."

Breathing hard, Hercules clenched his jaw and forcibly relaxed his hands from clenched fists. Finally he nodded his approval of the answer, ambiguous as it always had been. "So things are back to . . . normal."

"Yes, they are," Zeus assured him, ignoring the way his son practically spat out the last word in disgust.

"And I'm just to keep living with these dreams for the rest of my life," he responded lividly, trying desperately to redirect his anger away from his father. Zeus had only done as he had asked, why was he so upset?

*Because these dreams won't leave, because it's getting worse not better.*

With a sigh Hercules looked around at the dark endless cavern they both seemed to be standing in. It seemed very familiar but he wasn't sure. A touch of otherworldly vertigo quelled the demigod's doubts; this was the entrance to the Underworld.

All dark thoughts quickly vanished, lifted off his shoulders, freeing him for the first time in months, and Hercules suddenly felt like laughing and crying and yelling at the top of his lungs. Life was all well and good but death was better if you had no one to share the journey with.

"I'm dead!" he said with a growing grin as he turned full circle and then lifted his arms up and crowed with joy. "I'm actually dead!"

He glanced back to his father, laughing. "I'm dead and Iolaus is dead. This is perfect. I thought I might be immortal and then I'd never see him again or the children, Deianeira, and Mother. Who cares about the dreams?" His laughter echoed through the cavern. "I'm dead! This is *great!!*"

Getting his bearings quickly, he headed for the Styx, waving farewell to Zeus as he left. The king of the gods, however, was not so quickly brushed off.

"Hercules, wait! You can't go across," Zeus explained gently, watching all the joy die from his son's eyes. "It's not your time. You're still needed above."

Hercules did not answer his father. He merely stood frozen, staring at the gates of the Underworld with longing. *I don't know how much more of this I can take,* he thought to himself wildly. *Is Iolaus alive or isn't he. Am I alive or not. Or am I immortal, never to be with him or my family again.*

"Hercules, it's time to go home," Zeus put in quietly reaching out to rest a hand on his favorite son's shoulder.

"Can't--can't I see him?" he asked, to his horror his voice breaking.

Zeus tensed. "I don't think--"

"I'll go to Hades, have him open one of his windows." Hercules whirled around to face his father, words flowing thick and fast. "There's something wrong. You were right!" Hercules grasped hold of his father's

arm, voice urgent and pleading. "These dreams are trying to tell me something. I was going to see Iolaus anyway, but *now* . . ." Hercules visibly winced as he thought back to the dunes that seemed on the edge of time and space and the lost soul there.

--*"Can't you feel it? Can't you feel *me*?"*--

In realization and sudden understanding, Hercules continued anxiously. "There's something Iolaus wants, there's something I need to . . . *do* for him. I can't explain it, but it's there, inside of me. I need to speak with him. I just want to see that he's happy, see that he's okay. Just once more, just in case I'm . . . " *immortal* but Hercules would not say the word though it hung between him and his father like the death knell of hope. "Please."

Zeus visibly squirmed for reasons which the demigod didn't know, as he tried to make the decision. His father's hesitancy made him feel more than a little uneasy. Finally sighing with despondency and defeated regret, Zeus waved his son forward. "Go, seek your friend, speak with your uncle."

Hercules looked towards the Underworld entrance, a ghost of a smile shadowing his lips. He turned back to his father. "Father, thank--" But Zeus was gone.

Smiling in relief, Hercules ran towards the inky black river where even now a boat poled its way along the Styx.

"Put your back into it, Charon! I've got more than a few people to see," he called out with good-natured teasing, heart somewhat mollified that he could at least see Iolaus, put an end to his night torture and set his life in some semblance of order, and maybe even convince his Uncle to let him visit on a more regular basis.

Charon finally brought the boat close to the makeshift dock. Hercules reached out and grabbed the bow of the craft and pulled it closer to the shore. He was just about to leap into it when a pole poking him in the chest brought him up short.

"Uh-uh, mister. First you pay *then* you get to ride."

Hercules snorted. "Are you kidding, Charon?"

"No, I'm not and don't think you can threaten me neither! You wanna cross over? Pay up!" The boatman cackled, gesturing wildly with his pole.

Hercules lifted his hands in helplessness. "I don't have a dinar! I didn't know I was coming. It was battle. I thought I was dead, for Zeus' sake!"

"Tell me something I don't know! And I'm not talking about *one* dinar," Charon clarified moving closer to glare up at the demigod. "You owe me lots more than that! I'm not waiting for your final trip any more; time to take care of the tab. Now lesse." Charon hopped rather nimbly out of the boat for

one so seemingly decrepit. "You owe me three coins for the first trip of yers."

"Three?" Hercules asked, eyes wide.

"Plus a lantern. You gotta remember I hadda pole you and the missuss back, remember?"

Hercules raised his arms in exasperation. "Where am I going to get a lantern down here?"

"Now you see the trouble I have. There's no supplies for the working man in the Underworld," Charon groused, puttering around the dock.

"Ask Salmoneus!" Hercules put in off-handedly. "I'm sure he's got connections!"

"When do I have the time, huh?" Charon began to pace with more determination now, banging away with his stick. "I gotta pole people to the Underworld and come back and get MORE! You think Hades has it hard? I don't even get disability. My back is killing me!"

"I only hope!" Hercules muttered, then quickly turning back to the matter at hand before Charon could row off in a huff. "That's not my problem! I'd like to cross over!"

"And then there was that second time with Persephone. You owe me another three and a pig!"

Hercules buried his head in his hands and moaned. "I cannot believe this!"

"And then there's whathisname, blond golden short guy, Iolaus." Hercules' head snapped up eagerly at the sound of his best friend's name. "You know how many times I've had to pole him back to the land of the living?" Charon asked indignantly.

"I'm not down here to bring him back," Hercules yelled back, the boatman's words striking a nerve. *Well, not officially maybe,* he thought to himself craftily. *Who knows?* "I'm coming to visit him."

Charon took interest in that. "Blondie's here? Really?" he asked in amazed disbelief.

"Yeah, I guess he must have been lucky enough to skip this part of the whole procedure," Hercules muttered rolling his eyes.

"Aw, that stiff stiffed me on all his fees! I gotta unionize I tell ya!" Charon spat.

"Look, why don't you take me across and then you can go talk to Hades about it while I talk to Iolaus about your payment?" Hercules offered as sweetly as possible.

Charon thought this over for a long moment before nodding. "Hop in. I swear I don't get nuthin' but trouble these days! Nuthin' but trouble!"

Hercules wisely chose not to say anything to the boatman as he was poled down to Hades' palace. He only nodded from time to time in silent agreement to whatever the bad-tempered man was complaining about now.

As soon as the other side was in sight and in jumping distance, Hercules leapt for the dock, waving quickly to an irate Charon who was yelling about capsized boats and dead demigods, and rushed towards Hades' gates. Giving Cerberus an absent pat on one of his heads he slipped around the god's dark

home, noting the out of place flower baskets that hung from every window, and hurried along the path to the Elysian Fields.

The second he entered, the world around him shifted and changed to a bright sunlight valley dotted with houses. The open fields were filled with gardens of flowers and laughing and playing children. Smiling sadly, knowing deep in his heart that he could not stay, Hercules headed down one of the numerous winding paths searching for Ania's house.

Two little boys, one barely out of his toddler years, the other just walking, were playing together out in the yard with a patched hide ball. They had their father's fair hair and unmistakable blue eyes. Hercules

knew he'd found the right house.

The second the elder boy caught sight of him coming towards him he waved eagerly in greeting, and then leading his little brother along went dashing into the house calling for his mother at the top of his lungs.

Hercules shook his head and chuckled. That boy was the spitting image of his father in temperament as well as looks. Iolaus never spoke about his wife and children since they had died all those years ago and sometimes Hercules forgot he was ever married. But in his silence the hunter carried his pain and his loneliness while he and Jason announced theirs to the world. Iolaus had simply traveled for a while East and somehow was drawn back to his side. *I wonder how he must have felt when Serena and I were married?* the demigod wondered painfully. *He was always so considerate in giving us space for what precious little time we had and here his family, his wife and sons had all died while he watched, helpless.*

Hercules stepped up to the porch just as Ania flew out the door, tripping and falling straight into his arms.

"Hercules! I'm so sorry! I just keep forgetting that little step!" She smiled, straightening suddenly, her wavy brown hair pulled back into an intricate braid. Hercules could only marvel at the unlined, bright face and warm eyes. This woman's soul was alive; it glowed from within. Flustered, she kissed him on the cheek. "Welcome, brother! What are you doing here?" she asked as she scooped up her littlest one to rest on her hip.

"I--I came to see Iolaus," Hercules replied with more than a little distracted wonder at the sight of her.

"Iolaus?" Ania repeated, a little surprised. From behind her skirts the elder boy peered out cautiously and regarded the demigod.

"Daddy?" he asked, plaintively hopeful.

"He's not here?" Hercules guessed outloud.

"Should he be?" Ania questioned anxiously, grasping his hand tightly. "He's all right, isn't he?"

"O-Of course," Hercules assured her, desperately searching for an answer. Iolaus surely would have sought out his wife and children first upon arriving in the Fields. "He probably got caught up somewhere, I'll go find him," he announced, refusing to consider any other frightening possibility at that moment.

Hurrying down the path, he found himself in front of his own wife's house, his children playing in the yard as their grandmother tended the garden.

Alcmene looked up and beamed a smile at her son, even as worry lines creased her forehead in surprise at seeing him here. Hercules stopped, rooted to the ground at the sight of her. His mother was young, beautiful the way she had been in her youth, the way she had looked in his dream, Iolaus' dream.

Remembering his purpose suddenly, he was pushed into motion, but before he could speak what was on his mind, his two boys and darling girl caught sight of their father and jumped him, laughing and hugging him in delight.

Hercules could only grin as he held each in turn as they babbled excitedly that they missed him. Deianeira who heard the commotion poked her head out of the house door, and then realizing who it was rushed to greet her husband.

"Hercules, what are you doing here?" Deianeira asked as she broke off their satisfying kiss. "You're alive, I can feel it."

Alcmene shooed the children aside for the moment and hugged her son in greeting. "You're not supposed to be here now, Hercules. Why did you come?"

"I'm looking for Iolaus. Ania hasn't seen him, I thought he might have gotten sidetracked. You know how he is," Hercules explained with a weak grin and forced good-nature.

Alcmene saw right through him. "Iolaus would have visited his wife and sons first, the darling boys. We haven't seen him down here. Why would he be, he's got so much life to live."

Hercules' face fell. "Mother . . . he has to be here," he said in a near strangled voice. "He *has* to be!"

"Iolaus is . . . dead?" Deianeira whispered, holding up one hand in front of her mouth in shock. "I didn't know."

"What do you mean you didn't know? He's here, isn't he?" Hercules took hold of her arms, anxiously trying to suppress his growing fear and anger. "I mean, where else would he be?"

The two women exchanged pained looks but Alcmene firmly took charge as always. "Go see your Uncle. He's probably very busy and it's all just a mix up. Go see him, dear. I'm sure Iolaus is fine."

"You might check in the woods," Deianeira offered. "Ask Serena, maybe they're practicing archery together; sometimes she takes the boys with her."

"Serena?" Hercules repeated, disbelieving. "But Serena isn't--"

"The part of her you loved, the Golden Hind is." Deianeira smiled gently at her bewildered spouse. "Go! She's missed you too."

Hercules took off in a dead run, head spinning in confusion. Abandoning the paths, it wasn't long before he heard the distant sound of arrows flying through the air and hitting targets. Pushing through the brush he caught sight of Serena, his beautiful bride, glowing golden and fierce in the sunlight and beside her a familiar blond figure dressed in purple.

"Iolaus! Serena!" Hercules called out in relief. *It figures he'd be sidetracked in the woods,* he thought fondly. The two figures whirled around and Serena immediately shifted to her mortal form and laughing,

rushed over and embraced her husband.

"Oh Serena," he murmured, burying his face in her hair. "I--I'm so sorry . . ."

"Shhh . . ." she whispered. "I know, I know." Pulling away from him she smiled through her tears. "It's all right. Oh--" she broke off and turned to pull the blond hunter closer. "Hercules, I know he looks

familiar, but allow me to introduce Orestes of Attica." Orestes smiled in greeting and Hercules shook his hand feeling more and more lost with every passing second.

"It's a pleasure to meet you at last. My cousin spoke highly of you."

"Iolaus always spoke highly of you, too. Have you seen him?"

"Who? Iolaus?" Serena asked in puzzlement.

"I've been looking for him everywhere." Hercules threw up his hands in frustration. "He's not at home with Ania, or with mother or Deianeira. Have you seen him?"

"My cousin is here?" Orestes blanched visibly. "But it wasn't his time."

"Iolaus died?" Serena wondered outloud. "Oh Hercules, I'm so sorry, I didn't know! I knew how much he meant to you!"

"Why doesn't anyone know where he is? Why don't you of all people know he's dead? He's been dead for months!" Hercules all but yelled. Quickly getting control of himself he ran his hands through his hair taking a deep breath. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry I got upset."

"Hades," Orestes announced firmly with the bearing that he must have used while he was king. "Go ask Hades. If anyone knows, he does."

"Yeah, you're right. You're right," Hercules replied quickly, looking around hastily. "I'll go ask him."

Without a backward glance Hercules stalked off and immediately felt the world shift around him until the Fields vanished in a cloud of smoke and Hades' palace stood before him. He bounded up the stairs two at a time and burst into Hades' house without so much as a knock.

Hades, luckily, had just finished his rounds of Tartarus, but he was more than a little surprised to see his nephew come bounding into the room without so much as a by your leave. "Hercules." He swallowed his annoyance, attempting to sound civil. The demigod was not one for pointless visits and usually had good reason for any interruptions, demanding as they tended to be. *At least he came before Persephone arrived, otherwise I might not be in such a receptive mood,* Hades thought darkly. "What can I do for you?"

A little out of breath Hercules didn't bother with a greeting at his Uncle. "I want to see Iolaus now."

Hades blinked and carefully rolled up the scroll he had been reading and stood up behind his desk, rankling a bit at the demigod's commanding tone. "Come again?"

"I want to see Iolaus. Zeus said that I could." Hercules held up his hands to forestall his Uncle's comments and continued on in a rush, "I already asked around in the Elysian Fields, but he's off somewhere. Could you at least open up a window and let me see that he's all right so I know where to find him?"

The pleading hopeful tone beneath the iron insistence in Hercules voice had Hades hesitate before answering tartly, trying to (as his wife always urged him to) be sensitive. Coming over slowly to stand by his favorite nephew, he attempted to hide his bewilderment not to mention his chagrin.

"Hercules, Iolaus isn't in the Elysian Fields," Hades responded with a laugh.

The color left Hercules' face with such speed, Hades blinked in surprise and a little tinge of worry as he saw the demigod's hands clench and his arms begin to tremble with anger. His blue eyes grew stormy and he took a step closer to the dark god.

"What Did You Say?" he asked very very slowly.

"I--I said--" Hades suddenly found his nephew looming over him and grew angry at Hercules' obvious disrespect. *What did his nephew think he was? Lost and found for errant mortals?*

"Where else *would* he be?!" Hercules growled.

Hades stepped back, trying to put some distance between them and stumbled around the corner of his desk, upsetting a pile of scrolls in his haste, but he suddenly realized that his nephew was serious, dead serious. *And there's no pun intended* he thought with a gulp.

Furious at his work being disrupted and disorganized, Hades pushed that thought away and allowed his mounting anger to show. "What in Tartarus are you babbling about?" he snapped. "You think you can just barge in here without an invitation, upset my work and demand I locate your friend for you? What do I look like? The Oracle at Delphi?"

"Where is he?" the demigod seethed, wanting answers and wanting them now.

"I believe you took something that doesn't belong to you."

"Rumor and innuendo!"

--King of Thieves

*****************************

XVI.

Hades was running for his life.

*No, that's wrong* he scolded himself angrily as he dashed through Tartarus and its many demons. *You're an immortal, you can't die.*

*Ah, but Hercules knows where the Hind's Blood Dagger is.* His conscious reminded him evilly. Behind him he heard Hercules roaring out his name, gaining on him. *How in my name did I ever get into this mess!?*

"Where is he?" the demigod seethed, wanting answers and wanting them now.

"Look Hercules, you may have saved us from the Labyrinth of Eternal Memory but you have no right to treat me like this!" Hades hissed, temper getting the better of him and he threw a punch at his nephew.

Hercules raised his gauntleted arm to block the blow, eyes filling with rage. "And is this how you repay me? Not even a word of thanks, only a bunch of sick jokes?"

"I don't know what kind of game you and Zeus are playing, but unlike some people I have work to do, so just leave!" Hades retorted, reaching behind him to grab his staff.

"Damn you, Hades! Where's Iolaus?!"

"For the last time I am NOT Lost and Found!" Hades spat, poking the demigod hard in the chest for emphasis. Hercules grabbed the stick and wrenched it from his uncle's grasp and snapped the thing in two with one hand. Face darkening, the God of the Underworld lashed out, belting the demigod hard in

the jaw. "What do I have to do, beat some sense into you?"

Growling, Hercules plowed into his uncle, knocking the wind out of him. With a low grunt of pain, Hades jabbed both his elbows into Hercules' back. The demigod ignored whatever pain he felt and simply started squeezing tighter and tighter as he lifted Hades of the floor.

"Dammit, Hercules!" Hades gasped "Just because-- Dahak released his hold on-- Iolaus-- doesn't mean you-- can come in here-- and demand that I— search Greece for him! Look for him-- yourself!!"

Releasing his uncle and shifting his grip to the man's dark armor, Hercules snarled, "He's not IN Greece! What in Tartarus do you think I'm doing here, you bastard?"

Hades blinked suddenly in confusion, anger draining quickly in the face of a possible communication problem. "You mean that he's not on earth? You mean Dahak actually . . . killed him? Iolaus is . . . dead?"

Hercules yelled, slamming him up against the wall, holding him several feet above the ground. "Of course he's dead! You should know! You're the god of Death!"

Hades plucked futily at his nephew's grasp, sputtering in surprise. "O-of course I am, but Iolaus is not the Elysian Fields, I just didn't know he--"

"How could you *not* know? Is this some idea of a joke?! Some clerical error?!" Hercules demanded, eyes burning, obviously expecting an immediate answer Hades realized, the way he had balled up his fist, ready to strike.

"Hercules, I felt when Dahak released his hold on your friend but I didn't know--" Hades tried desperately to explain to the enraged demigod. But Hercules was already trying to figure it out on his own and he had come up with a very chilling explanation.

"You put him in Tartarus, didn't you? You damned Iolaus to Tartarus for what Dahak did in his name?! HOW COULD YOU?!" Hercules roared like a wounded animal, lashing out with his fist.

Hades managed to jerk his head to the side and avoid the skull cracking blow. The wall where Hades' head had been now cracked, masonry and stone nearly giving way.

Using this moment in which Hercules merely stared at the wall blankly, seething visibly, Hades broke himself free and made a run for it. Fighting Hercules for being a jerk was one thing, taking him on when he thought Iolaus was dead was quite another.

Screaming in fury Hercules came crashing after him.

"Come back here, you coward!"

Hades didn't bother that call with a reply as he finally made it through Tartarus and into the Caves where he housed his chariot. He was full god true, but even he had barely managed to hold his own fighting his nephew when it had been over Persephone. This was over Iolaus and everyone with half a mind on Olympus knew that was definitely a sore spot for Hercules that you didn't mess with unless you were incredibly stupid or wanted trouble.

Leaping into his chariot, Hades grabbed the reins and the whip and drove his wild dark horses forward. *Zeus,* Hades rationalized. *Zeus must have known. He sent Hercules here without telling him to let me deal with his dirty work. I'll just have to--*

A hand jerked Hades out of his chariot, slamming him into the ground. Hercules then took hold of his armored breastplate with two hands and lifted him up and began shaking him as he demanded answers.

"Where is he??! Damn you, you soulless bastard, Iolaus was a hero! A hero, do you hear me!?" the demigod shouted in his uncle's face. "He saved your miserable carcass, he kept Dahak from destroying everything, and you put him in Tartarus and then you and Zeus try to keep it from me, try to lie to me?!!"

Letting out a roar of protest, Hercules slammed Hades face down into the ground before the dark god could gather up his wits to answer the demigod. Hades began to rise when he felt a shadow fall upon him, he looked up just in time to see his own chariot come crashing down on top of him, pounding

him unmercifully into the ground.

*Note to self,* he thought hysterically. *Never, never pick on Iolaus.*

Hercules dug through the splintered wood that remained of the vehicle, sobbing in frustration. Hades glanced desperately around the Caves at the demons and assistance that watched in horror from a safe distance. Hercules took firm hold of the God of the Underworld and began to drag him along after him, screaming at the top of his lungs. "I want answers, Hades! And I'm going to get them even if I have to peel off your skin and pound them out of you!"

*He's serious!* Hades gasped. He waved frantically to his minions as Hercules pulled him along backwards on the seat of his pants. "Help! Get help! He's gone crazy! Call Zeus! HELP!" Hades yelped.

Hercules paid no heed to the dark god's pleas or to his minions. He only could see a red haze that seemed to have descended over his eyes, his whole mind. *Damn them! Damn Zeus and Hades! How could they do this to Iolaus?* he thought brokenly.

There was an explosion of light in front of him, heralding the arrival of a god and suddenly Persephone stood before him, flustered and more than a little taken aback at the sight of the giant demigod in full fury who walked right past her.

"Hercules!"

"Persephone!" Hades called out in relief. "Thank the gods you're here, my love! He's gone mad! He's going to kill me!"

Persephone ran to catch up and step in front of the demigod. "Hercules, stop. Calm down. Let us talk about this." The gentle goddess of the underworld placed her hands firmly on Hercules' chest as if to stop his forward journey to Zeus only knew where. She braced herself but Hercules kept on walking even as she dug her heels in. Unceremoniously the demigod pushed her aside and kept moving ever forward, dragging Hades along, his mouth a thin slash of pain, tears running unchecked down his grief-stricken face, eyes burning cold with fury and revenge.

"Persephone!" Hades called out as he passed his wife, trying to struggle weakly up to his feet and out of Hercules' grasp. "Persephone, it's not working!"

"Oooo! I know!" she wrung her hands together anxiously.

"Do something!" her husband begged in panic as he disappeared round a corner.

"I'm thinking as fast as I can!" she announced indignantly to the empty stone corridor, stamping her foot, vanishing once again.

Hades twisted and turned trying to see where they were going and suddenly caught sight of the Styx.

*Oh no,* he thought with a gulp as Hercules silently lifted him up as he waded deeper into the icy cold waters until the inky waves lapped up to his thighs.

"Hercules, Hercules, please listen to me!" Hades pleaded hysterically, wriggling and struggling against the inevitable as his nephew's hands came up to grasp him tight around the neck. "I didn't know! He's not in Tarta--! Hercu-lsmmpht!"

Hercules shoved his uncle underwater, clenching his jaw so tight it hurt. "Damn you!" he hissed. "Where's Iolaus! Where is he? Answer me!"

Hades only response was his hands reaching out futily from beneath the river clawing helplessly. "ANSWER ME!!" Hercules cried out in a voice so grief-stricken and so loud that the souls down in the Elysian Fields heard him and shivered in sorrow.

There was a sudden noise and flash behind him, but Hercules didn't turn around to see who it was, he simply tightened his grip on the dark god, visibly shaking with fury.

"Hercules, Hercules, are you sure this is a good idea?" Deianeira called out from the edge of the river. "Honey, maybe we should talk about this first. Hercules, just calm down! He can't answer you if you hold him underwater."

There was another explosion of light and sound and Alcmene joined her daughter-in-law at the edge of the river. She took one worried look at her grieving son and knew exactly how to get through to him.

Alcmene stamped her foot and began yelling to get her son's attention, "Hercules! Stop strangling your uncle this instant! Do you hear me, young man? Let go!"

Hercules blinked and finally stopped choking Hades and looked over to the shore where his mother and wife stood. Alcmene had her arms crossed and was eyeing him disapprovingly.

"But mother--"

"Did you hear me, Hercules?" she scolded. "Let go and get out of that river before you freeze to death! Out!" She gestured commandingly.

Instinct took over and Hercules blindly followed his mother's stern orders out of years of habit. He hauled a sputtering Hades out of the Styx and waded his way back to the shore, a feeling of numbness and shock spreading through him as the adrenaline faded.

Alcmene and Deianeira pulled him out of the river as soon as he was within arms' reach. Persephone appeared out of nowhere and took hold of her stunned husband and soothed him gently.

"Hercules," the goddess began, turning her attention away from her husband to stare at the demigod who now sat huddled on the shores of the Styx, his wife and mother beside him. "Hercules, we didn't know Dahak killed him to gain possession of his body. Hades felt it when Iolaus separated from the darkness but we thought he was alive. Hercules, he's not in Tartarus, Hades would never send someone like Iolaus there, he was a hero," she explained softly, hoping that he would hear her and believe her. "His soul isn't here, Hercules. No one knows were it is, not even Zeus! I'm so very sorry," she whispered, eyes tearing. "We didn't even realize he was dead."

"Are you listening, honey? They didn't hurt Iolaus," Deianeira soothed, brushing away her husband's hair from his brow.

"Iolaus isn't here?" Hercules asked after a long moment in a voice devoid of hope.

Alcmene reached out to bring her son's eyes to face her. "I'm certain that if anyone can find Iolaus it will be you. Just keep looking, dear. Iolaus would never abandon you; now you cannot let yourself get angry and lose control and abandon him. It will be all right. Trust me."

"I don't know," Hercules began desperately, breath coming in irregular gasps as if he was in great pain "I don't if I can do it any more. Things are so different now. The world has changed since you've been gone, Mother. Without Iolaus . . . nothing *works* out the way it should," he tried to explain, grasping hold of her hand tightly, squeezing his eyes shut to prevent a fresh wave of tears.

"Oh, my son." Alcmene reached out and gently wiped away his drying tears, her voice filled with confidence and warmth. "Then change it back."

end?

"And y'know, if I had to do it all over again, I wouldn't change a thing."

--Resurrection

"The best thing that never happened to me."

--The End of the Beginning

*****************************

INTERLUDE

Hercules began the day the same way he had every single day since his return from the Underworld, by burying his dreams deep within him. He found that if he focused hard enough on his breathing as he sat braced against the wall on his bed, clutching his chest in an effort to still his pounding heart, that he could compartmentalize it, shut it out and forget it, forget the last few weeks since the Other Iolaus had left. He wasn't sure where the skill suddenly came from to block the plaguing dreams; *maybe something to do with Maven or the Illumination,* he mused idly as he leaned back against the guest room wall.

He'd given up sleeping in the treefort and he wouldn't even go near the room Iolaus and he had shared as children; he simply slept and lived in the little impersonal guest room Jason had built when he and Alcmene had married.

Drained and weighted is what he felt like after his morning ritual, like he had taken Atlas' burden upon his shoulders. And listless, as if he was adrift again on Nebula's ship. The last few weeks' adventures and the dreams had been shoved into some dark corner of his mind that he wasn't planning on visiting any time soon and as a result Hercules walked around in something of a stupor, lifeless; his only emotions despair and cold burning anger.

He'd searched Greece again. Sent out messages, visited Iolaus' and his old haunts only to find them long abandoned with no sign of his friend. He'd been to Athena's temple, even Hades' temple again just to make sure. He'd even asked Zeus but had received no working answer. There was only one place left he could look, one last place he could search for his brother's soul.

Sighing mightily, Hercules forced himself to his feet, forced himself to walk, to breath, to eat and drink, to keep on living. He wasn't sure what propelled him, maybe something he chose to forget, but he really didn't care. Until he found Iolaus, one way or another he had to keep going.

He stumbled into the kitchen, his hands going through the motions of preparing some tea even as his mind roved in ever-larger circles. He didn't even turn around as Jason greeted him.

The former king and Argonaut stood uncertainly in the doorway of his own kitchen, staring at the demigod's back. Hercules had shown up on his doorstep a few days earlier just in time to catch Jason mid-semester at the Academy and home for a break to tend Alcmene's garden and the yard. In a flat clipped tone he'd informed his stepfather and friend that the Other Iolaus was off somewhere building his own life.

At first Jason had suspected that it was this separation from the other man that had reduced Hercules to this level of restless apathy, but after a few days of Hercules' sarcastic, biting conversation and obsessive, busy activity around the farm the Argonaut was forced to admit that it might be something

else entirely.

And then late last night Hercules finally explained what was bothering him; the gods had lost track of Iolaus' soul.

Jason wasn't exactly sure what that meant; Underworld mysticism was not his favorite subject though Medea had been well versed in its intricacies. Nor was he clear on what Hercules planned to do about it, but he had the feeling the demigod would start soon enough.

"So what are you planing to do today?" Jason asked with forced cheerfulness in his tone, prepared to be rebuffed as he had in past days with oddly cold looks and side comments.

Hercules took his seat at the old table carefully, hands cupped around his warm mug. He stared for a long time at its fragrant contents, hair falling in his eyes, a shadow of a beard giving his face a stark angular appearance.

"Oh, I don't know," he replied in a distant off-handed manner. "Maybe someone will come today with news of a monster or a warlord or something."

Jason eased into a seat opposite his friend and reached for a kiwi from the center bowl on the table. "Home life boring you?" he joked cautiously. Hercules had sent off a number of messages but had not received any answers. He seemed to be waiting, biding his time, preparing and steeling himself for something inevitable and painful.

"Not really. I suppose I could reroof the house now that I finished with the barn." Hercules let go of his cup with one hand and rubbed his chin ruefully in thought.

"You already reshingled the roof last year, it's just fine," Jason reminded him pointedly as he drew out his belt knife and began peeling the fuzzy fruit.

Hercules smiled faintly, remembering how Iolaus and he had helped Jason out. It was when Alcmene had still been alive and he could almost smell the earth in early early spring, the sight of his mother working in her garden from up on the roof, and Iolaus going on and on about how they'd *just* worked on his mother's roof the last time they had visited and that maybe Hercules should just go knock down his mother's finally completed wall and rebuild it if he wanted something *really* constructive to do.

That had been the last pleasant visit he'd made to this house. Soon after he returned home to watch his mother die and then he'd foolishly dragged Iolaus along to Sumeria.

Sumeria.

Where Iolaus had *died* and became trapped inside Dahak.

The hunter had finally returned to Greece only to finally pass on to the Other Side, at least that's what Hercules had *thought.* But his recent trip to the Underworld had ruined his consoling thoughts of Iolaus finally at peace.

Now he didn't know what to think. Iolaus' soul had gone missing.

Again.

Hercules looked up to see Jason watching him with an anxious worried frown. He smiled slightly though it didn't reach his eyes to placate his friend. "You're right." He nodded and took a sip of his tea, reaching an instant and instinctive decision that had nothing to do with logic and everything to do with intuition and gut feeling. "The roof's fine. I've got other things to do, places to go."

"Where are you heading this time? Do you--do you know where to look?" Jason asked hesitantly, not wanting to press the sore subject of Iolaus' disappearance just yet.

"Sumeria," Hercules replied carelessly as he cut himself a slice of the thick round loaf of bread that rested on the cutting board.

Jason practically choked on his fruit. "Sumeria?" he gasped. He hadn't expected this. "You think Nebula might have some answers?"

"Nebula?" Hercules looked up in absent surprise from his breakfast. "Ohh!" he murmured as if just remembering the existence of the one time pirate-captain now Sumerian Queen. "I guess I could do that too while I look around."

"Look around for what?" Jason asked in a hesitant tone. *Please don't say what I think you're going to say* he pleaded internally *Please. You were coming to terms with this, I know you were. You were doing so well!*

"I'll need the Hind's Blood Dagger," Hercules announced as if the thought had just popped into his head randomly. "I'll have to write Xena to get it," he said aloud as he talked around the food in his mouth.

"B-but all the Sumerian gods are dead," his step-father sputtered.

"One can't be too careful!" Hercules replied slyly, but there was no humor in his eyes, only a watchfulness coupled with this sudden intense desire to travel to the land that had been the death of his best friend and brother.

"Dahak is dead, Hercules," Jason reminded him quietly. "He's dead and gone."

Hercules shook his head. "I'm not so sure." He thought about his words for a moment and let out a humorless chuckle. "I'm not sure of anything anymore. Past or present, life or death."

"I'm going with you," Jason said staunchly, his tone that of a king, commanding and booking no opposition.

This got Hercules' attention. His eyes seemed to clear of their vagueness and filled with anger once again, but who it was directed at Jason did not know. "No, you're not."

"Hercules--!" Jason's voice held a warning tone to it.

"No! You've got the Academy and mother's garden, you are *not* coming." Hercules all but spat his refusal in the man's face. "I've send for Autolycus or Salmoneus--"

"Salmoneus!" Jason roared indignantly, jumping to his feet. "You'd rather he go with you than me?!"

*No,* Hercules thought fearfully. *No, I don't, but I can't lose another long-time friend in Sumeria, I can't and I won't.*

Hercules stood up slowly to face his step-father and friend and before the anger filled him again Jason swore he saw terror in the demigod's eyes. Pure unbridled terror of what might happen if he took Jason with him as he had taken Iolaus before him. The former king of Corinth suddenly regretted his inane

jealously and anger because he realized that Hercules had refused his assistance not out of spite, but out of pain and fear of losing what was one of his last remaining family ties, if only by marriage.

Both men stared at each other across the table, knowing the truth behind their confrontation and harsh words but each unable to bring himself to discuss it with the other. So instead they outwardly seethed at each other and spoke words they did not mean.

"You are NOT coming with me! I won't travel with you," Hercules replied bitingly.

"Fine! I'll write to Xena for you while you find Salmoneus and Autolycus. I'm sure they'd both be thrilled to accompany you to Sumeria!" Jason retorted sarcastically.

Hercules pulled back as if he'd been slapped. Breathing hard he spun around and headed out the door. Jason, wide-eyed with regret at the unintended double meaning of his words reached out with a hand to the demigod. "Hercules, I didn't mean. . ."

Hercules froze in the doorway, his back stiff, hands clenched.

The argonaut pulled his hand back and desperately tried a different tact "Hercules, why Sumeria? Why now? Something happened after Iolaus left to start his life. Something that's been bothering you for months. Is it nightmares? Tell me, please," Jason questioned anxiously.

Hercules did not answer, he simply started walking again and did not look back.

Sighing heavily and rubbing his eyes in frustration Jason slumped into his seat. *He couldn't answer me. He doesn't even know.*

Suddenly moved into action he found a piece of parchment by rummaging around the room and wrote a quick note to Xena regarding the Hind's Blood Dagger. Rolling it up he was going to give it to the hired boy who tended the animals to run into town and find a messenger but something stopped him.

Looking up, he spoke out loud in the emptiness of the kitchen. "Iolaus?" he asked tentatively. "If--if you can hear me from wherever you are, my thoughts . . . watch over Hercules. I think . . . I think he needs you more now than he ever has before."

TO BE CONTINUED IN

Home is Where the Heart is

Or How Hercules got his Groove Back

by Kimberley Rector and Martha Wells Wilson

DISCLAIMER: None of Apollo's temples were converted or rededicated

officially to Hercules. However, the Bright God has reported a net loss in

the numbers of female apparel that has been offered to him over the last

few days. Hercules' official response was a very embarrassed "No Comment."