Fortune's Fool: Chapter 1
Standard Disclaimer applies – I don't own them. The BBC does.
This is the sequel to 'The Start of Something'. You could give it a go if you haven't read the first story, by all means, but it may not make much sense in places. I really hope people enjoy this and if you do, please let me know! Thanks.
"Good morning, Pythagoras! What? What's with the look?"
"You're…very cheerful this morning, Hercules."
"Should I not be? Take a look around you, my friend. The sun is shining, the table is spread with a delicious breakfast and I just have a…a feeling in my heart."
"That's probably the pies last night. I'll make you a tonic." Pythagoras began to rise from the table but was halted half-way when Hercules shoved him back down to his seat.
"Pythagoras, my friend, your pessimism wounds me! Can't I just be in a good mood?" He swung one hefty leg over a stool and seated himself next to the young man with an over-exaggerated flourish. A bunch of grapes lay on a wooden plate in front of them and Hercules plucked a handful and popped them in his mouth. Pythagoras eyed him cautiously.
"Generally speaking, not without gambling, wine or women." He risked a smile, however. Whatever the cause and however long it lasted, the optimistic light-heartedness was a welcome relief from the bear with a sore head who usually shared their living space.
"Well, there's something different about today. Speaking of which…" He glanced around the room, taking note of the empty seat opposite. "Are we expecting a visit from His Moodiness, this morning?" He rolled his eyes. "Or are we back to marching him to the table and forcing food down his throat?" And on speaking of food, he tore off a chunk of bread and added it to his plate. Pythagoras sighed.
"He's not moody," he objected, quietly. "That's not fair, Hercules. Jason has been perfectly pleasant. He's just been….distracted lately." But even as he spoke, the young genius didn't sound convinced. Hercules waved a dismissive hand in the air and, between mouthfuls, admitted:
"Alright then – he's not been moody, exactly. But you have to admit, these past three weeks, we've hardly seen him and when he does pop up, you can barely get two words out of him! Now I'm not saying the peace and quiet isn't nice once in a while, but it's just not like him."
"I thought you don't get worried," Pythagoras pointed out, a grin on his lips. Hercules rolled his eyes.
"I'm not. But he hasn't even been out for a drink and that is just unhealthy! In fact, he's barely been out of the house."
"Well, the last time he went out, you did yell at him," Pythagoras reasoned, ever the picture of patience. Hercules raised a protesting hand at that.
"I did not yell. I didn't! I expressed my opinion with vigour - on his rather stupid, impetuous outing while he was still recuperating. But it wasn't yelling. And in any case, that was three weeks ago."
Pythagoras shrugged. He wanted to defend Jason – he usually did – but even he couldn't feel comfortable with Jason's recent self-imposed isolation. It was as though…he hated to even think it…but it was as though they were almost drifting apart. Sometimes, he would catch Jason just staring. Not looking at anything in particular, but staring through a wall or the floor or at his hands. He would be about to ask what was wrong, but as soon as Jason spotted him, he'd plaster a smile over his face, shake off any concern and turn the conversation onto other matters as quickly as possible. Pythagoras sighed again. Even then the conversation was limited to about two sentences before Jason begged off, finding an excuse to retreat to another part of the house.
Something seemed to be troubling their strange young friend and Pythagoras hated the thought that, whatever it was, Jason couldn't unburden himself on them. They'd always been open with this sort of thing, hadn't they? He suddenly made up his mind that when Jason emerged for breakfast, he was going to press him a little more forcefully for some details.
As if sensing his thoughts, Hercules asked, "Where is he anyway? Isn't he normally up by now?" Again, Pythagoras shrugged so Hercules continued: "Well is he still in bed?"
"I don't know, Hercules," he replied, rolling his eyes. "I don't actually make a habit of spying on him while he's sleeping."
"It's not spying," Hercules protested. Pythagoras raised a meaningful eyebrow. "A quick peek then?" he countered. Hercules was rewarded with an indulgent sigh as Pythagoras pushed himself up from the table.
"I'll glance in," he said. "But don't eat any more of that cheese." He pointed a warning finger at the steadily growing pile on Hercules' plate. "It's Jason's favourite and there needs to be some left or it will be a pretty miserable breakfast." He watched as Hercules obligingly headed towards the bowl of fruit instead.
"If he's still asleep, wake him up!" he shouted after him. "It's going to be too glorious a day to miss."
Absently, Pythagoras nodded to himself. "I shall do, assuming your reverberating yelling hasn't done so already."
Hercules watched his friend disappear, snuck a very small chunk of cheese (there still being plenty left for Jason) but had only got as far as secreting it under his bread when Pythagoras returned, a puzzled look on his face. "He's not there."
Hercules raised an eyebrow, the cheese, momentarily forgotten. "Not there? Are you sure?"
Pythagoras looked annoyed. "Well I suppose he could have been hiding under the bed."
"Alright, keep your shirt on. You aren't always the most observant of people is all I'm saying." He paused a moment. "Well, he's probably gone for a morning walk." There was a hint of doubt in his voice, though.
"Yes," his young friend agreed, reseating himself with an uncertain smile. "It's funny isn't it? You were just saying how he needs to get out more. It's like he read your mind…Now you can stop worrying."
Hercules laughed, perhaps a little too loudly. "Yes! But I don't worry, you understand."
"No."
Pythagoras rolled an olive around his plate. Again and again. It squished so he took another one.
Hercules drummed his fingers on the table-top with a steady rat-a-tat-tat.
The two friends caught each other's eyes and nodded and smiled and then almost leapt to their feet when the door suddenly opened and Jason wandered in.
"Oh, breakfast," he remarked. "Is that the cheese I like? Pythagoras, you're a star!"
"Jason!" They chorused.
Jason froze en-route to the table. "I'm sorry," he ventured. "I didn't think to greet the two of you with quite the same enthusiasm. But I really am pleased to see you. It was all in my eyes."
Shaking off the embarrassment, Pythagoras laughed. "Yes, I'd hoped you'd like the cheese. I didn't realise you were out this morning. What time did you leave?"
Jason sat down and pulled a plate from the small pile. "I'm not sure. It was dark." Hercules looked surprised. To be dark in the summer was either incredibly late or painfully early. He passed the plate of cheese and grapes to Jason but just couldn't keep the frown off his forehead. If Jason noticed it though, he didn't comment. Instead, he muttered his thanks and gratefully loaded his plate with a modest amount – enough to fend off pointed remarks from his well-meaning friends.
"Why so early?" Pythagoras, asked, gently. He hadn't seen Jason so animated in a while and was very glad to see it. What with Hercules' fair mood, the morning was shaping up to be an auspicious one. Jason shrugged, nonchalantly.
"Couldn't sleep. I just needed some air." He stopped a second, his face looking concerned. "I didn't mean to worry you guys or anything." Pythagoras laughed and waved away his concern.
"Don't be ridiculous. You know Hercules doesn't worry." They both chuckled, having experienced plenty of evidence to the contrary while Hercules bore their teasing with a mere roll of the eyes.
"So where'd you go?" Hercules questioned. He placed a slice of bread on Jason's plate.
"I was just wandering really but I ended up down at the harbour. I got a job there."
"At the harbour?" Hercules questioned, incredulously. "What do you know about boats?"
Jason shot him a half-guarded look. "A fair bit," he protested. "My uncle was a captain of his own ship. Only a small one but he had a crew. I grew up going out on it. Well, when I wasn't getting in the way." Pythagoras made no comment but he secretly devoured up the scraps of information Jason was offering. He'd never heard him be so forthcoming about his childhood or family or…well, anything from his past. It was as though Jason had sprung fully grown from the earth.
"But anyway," he continued, "it's got nothing to do with sailing the ships. I was just sitting on the wall, watching the ships get ready for the morning tide when I noticed that some ropes tying these crates together was about to snap while these men were loading it on to the ship. I jumped in and secured the crates before they fell. The harbour master said I had a good eye and quick reactions and he wants me to help keep an eye on the docks."
"What kind of an eye?" Pythagoras wondered.
Jason appeared non-plussed. "Spot trouble-makers, thieves – that sort of thing. Especially when most of the ships seem to arrive and leave at the same time."
Hercules nodded. "When do you get paid?"
"Hercules!"
"What? I'm not prying, Pythagoras." But Jason just smiled.
"The end of the day. I've got to head back there at midday. That's when the next round of ships are expected." He looked at his friends, expectantly, trying to gauge their reactions. Pythagoras appeared outwardly pleased though Jason couldn't help but feel that his friend was holding something back. Not being able to imagine what it was, though, he pushed the thought aside. Hercules, on the other hand, was much easier to read. A welcoming smile was spread across his face.
"Splendid!" he exclaimed. "You get some fresh air for a change, the docks are a safer place and we all get a nice, regular income." He clapped Jason on the shoulder. Jason tried not to wince. "All in all," Hercules said, "a good morning's work."
Weakly, Jason nodded, trying not to let his eyes water at the pain that now spread across his shoulders. After days of their outright nagging and later, their furtive glances, Jason was finally glad to be free from scrutiny and was reluctant to admit to the lingering pain in his muscles or the weariness that sometimes washed over him when he had over-exerted himself.
"Quite," Pythagoras agreed, smiling as he suddenly joined in. "As long as you're sure you feel up to it."
"I feel fine," Jason insisted, giving his friend a reassuring smile. He yawned. "But, I think I might lie down for a bit before I head out again." He looked a little sheepish. "I guess the early morning's catching up with me." And so, taking one last gulp of water, he headed off to his bed.
As a rule, Pasiphae liked to be prepared. Fruit, fresh from the orchards that very morning, were piled high in the bowl on the little table: apples, pears and figs – Minos' favourites. Pasiphae had made sure of that. Sweet, red wine filled the carafes – sweet wine to sweeten the mood. And wafting in the air, the fragrant notes of jasmine and frankincense. The only thing Pasiphae could not prepare, was her husband.
"But…that's not possible." His forehead creased in confusion. Pasiphae looked at him, patiently. This would not be an easy conversation to have, but have it they must. The time had come. Her scheming mind had run through a thousand possibilities of broaching the topic, of introducing such a potentially dangerous subject. However, in the end, she had decided to go with honesty. It was a card she rarely played and today, Pasiphae prayed that a change of approach would weigh in her favour.
"As I, too believed when I first heard this, Minos. But it is."
"The boy?"
She nodded. "Jason."
"The one who slew the Earth Bull?" He thought for a moment. "The one who fought in the pankration?" Minos' expression warred constantly between outrage and shock. Pasiphae tried not to hold her breath but it was very difficult: Minos' reaction could spell the end for both her and her son. His voice became quieter: "Does…does Ariadne know?"
So he has noticed? Pasiphae almost smirked. "No," she answered. The girl's reaction would be one that she savoured and found herself looking forward to with almost feverish anticipation.
Minos sat back in his chair and regarded his wife. Though the conversation appeared honest, he could not help but reel at the events. "Why are you only just telling me?" he demanded, "if you discovered the truth these months past?" Suspicion screamed from his accusatory tone. She had been expecting it and only hoped her words would not fail her.
"It was a trying time," she pointed out, as carefully as she could. The hunt for his daughter was generally not a topic she willingly made reference to. "Jason had taken shelter with Aeson although he had no idea who he was. There were many convergences of Fate that day and…" she hesitated, "and I also needed time to face the truth. To…admit the reality to myself." Minos latched on to the sincerity of her words, to the waver in her voice. It irritated her that her weakness appeared to be her saving grace but if it worked in her favour…
The hardness in his eyes, mellowed. "So why tell me now?" his voice had softened though the anger, the suspicion remained. Pasiphae raised distant eyes to meet his:
"When Jason did not know the truth, when the burden was mine to bear alone, I was content to keep my silence. The truth would not be revealed when I alone held its key."
"But now the boy knows," Minos finished. "It's less likely this will remain concealed for long." A flash of fear crossed his face. Pasiphae almost winced to see it: fear, they must avoid. Fear would cause him to act hastily, rashly and with brutality. She had seen it before. One did not usurp a throne without the instinct to dispose of any in your way. No, she decided. She must allay this fear.
"What do you suppose he will do?" Minos asked her.
Pasiphae moved from where she sat, opposite her husband, to perch next to him. She took a chance by gently gathering his hands into hers, praying he would not reject her touch: after all, admitting your son was a rival to your husband's throne, whether that was your fault or not, was dangerously close to betrayal. To treason. Many in Atlantis had been executed for less and her own position was far from secure.
"Jason has no designs to embrace his destiny," she assured him. She let out a bitter laugh. "In fact, he does not wish to see me at all." Minos felt sympathy stir his heart at the pain he clearly saw on his wife's face. For the first time since she had confessed the true identity of the mysterious young man, he began to imagine this from her point of view.
"When Aeson took him," she continued, "he took pains to erase me from my son's life – in name, in memory, in every way. Jason is confused and he is hurting." She gave what she hoped was a reassuring smile. "Do not worry about the boy. I fear he wishes nothing to do with me, or his father or with his heritage."
Minos gripped her hands. "I am finding it difficult to believe that he is alive, after all these years. And then I consider how this must be for you. I watched you grieve for him when you thought the child had died. I held you in my arms at night as you wept for him."
"I know."
"May the gods damn, Aeson!" he suddenly exclaimed. "If he comes near my city – if he makes any designs on the throne…"
The queen scoffed. "Pay no mind to Aeson. He is as impotent now as he was back then." She watched her husband's lips curl in to a smile and for a second, enjoyed being joined in purpose. "In any event, he has given me assurances that he wants no part of his old life and, what little else I may think of him, I hold his trust in that. Besides," she added, "he loves the boy. He would not put him in such danger. He knows what that would mean for him and he wishes him to have no part in his heritage or even in Atlantis."
Minos nodded, thoughtfully. He no longer seemed angry but nor was the battle won. However, Pasiphae allowed herself to believe that the worst of the danger had passed.
"My lord, you ask me why I tell you now. In all honesty, I do not have an answer for you. I only wish…."
"You want to know your son." Minos afforded her a small, sad smile. "You are a mother, granted a miracle by the Gods. I cannot begrudge you your emotions." He sighed, wearily, feeling a heavy weight on his shoulders. It was at times like these when his illness seemed to play on his nerves more plainly. "Until such time as the boy is ready to accept his true identity, none may know of this. Especially Ariadne."
Pasiphae nodded. "I imagine, he will tell his friends," she pointed out. Minos had to think for a moment.
"The ones who leapt the bulls with him?" His wife nodded, once more. "They are clearly loyal to each other. Do they seem…trustworthy?"
Pasiphae considered the two men his son counted amongst his closest friends. However lowly she considered them, she could not deny the bond they shared with her son and how they had carefully nursed him back to health. And if she were honest with herself, Pasiphae would be glad when Jason confessed to them if he had not already done so: it was the first step towards acceptance. "I believe, so. They would do nothing to betray each other." Though what secrets the fat one would divulge after a night of drinking, she almost shuddered to think.
"It would be," Minos began slowly, weighing his words, "foolish of me to ignore who Jason is." Pasiphae fought to keep her composure though she could not help but widen her eyes in surprise at the turn of his thoughts. She would not lead. She would not. Minos must arrive there himself or he would not remain convinced.
The king saw her surprise. "Jason is your son," he said. "He is of royal blood and I shall not deny his heritage – it would be an insult to both you and I." He suddenly rose from his seat and turned to face her. Pasiphae remained seated – unthreatening, un-opposing.
"However," he insisted, his voice hardening, his expression darker and resolute, "an heir to the throne, is yet to be seen. He has clearly not been raised a Greek. His understanding of our ways and customs, of his own heritage…" He shook his head, almost in anger. "Aeson may at least have let him be raised in his own country! But the fact remains that though he may be of honourable intentions and noble birth, he has been raised as a boy of little consequence, amongst the lowest of stations."
Pasiphae tried not to flinch. It was true but hearing it from her husband affected her more than she thought it would. The shame of her son's situation was something she longed to rectify, if only he would let her. Or even if he did not, surely as both his queen and his mother… Her thoughts began to wander and she forced them back to the present. Minos was still speaking, rationalising. It was his process of accepting and of coming to terms.
"The boy lacks an education. He must undergo the appropriate customs of the land, of his station. He must have fulfilled the appropriate civic rituals. He must be tutored in the art of being a prince of Atlantis and all that this responsibility entails. In short, he needs a little more…" Minos struggled for a moment, to find the appropriate word. "Raising," he finally finished, throwing one hand into the air. The queen almost smiled. Even now, Minos began to sound the frustrated father whether he realised it or not.
"It is as you say, Minos," Pasiphae agreed. "If Jason is willing to learn."
Minos suddenly seemed to notice the goblets of wine and gladly took one up and sipped its sweet contents. A look of pleased contentment washed over his taut features, sapping some of the tension from his brow. He paused and smiled, raising an eyebrow at his wife as if aware of her subtle manipulations. Wordlessly, he poured a second cup and handed it to his wife who accepted it with a hint of surprise. For Minos to serve her anything was almost unheard of.
"I will admit," Minos began quietly, reseating himself next to her, "that if Jason were to prove…suitable, it would be a welcome solution to my problems both with the throne and with," he could not keep the hesitation out of his voice. "With Ariadne." He sighed and rolled his eyes. "Yes, I have seen his devotion to her and I can admit that my daughter has been drawn towards him." He glanced down at his lap. It was not an easy thought to voice. "I dearly wish for my daughter to be happy and if this boy can do it then I would see it done."
He looked into his wife's eyes. "I make no promises. Jason has work to do. But he can be…moulded, can he not? He is young and needs guidance, teaching. I will give him that chance…should he wish it." And Pasiphae smiled and leaned in to kiss him gently.
"Thank you, Minos."
That's it for now. I'd love to hear what you think.