I won't break
A gentle evening breeze wafted gracefully through the foliage of the primordial forest. With the solitary exception of the crackle of a small campfire, the only sounds to be heard were that generated by nature itself. The land was at peace… relaxed… it seemed a shame that for the travelling companions seated next to the fire, the same could not be said.
The two friends could not have hoped for a more idyllic location to settle for the night. Set back from the well travelled path, a copse of ancient trees formed a near perfect circle, their majestic branches intertwining but never quite meeting in their centre, the twilight sky visible through the ring of foliage. The forest floor beneath the massive limbs had been swept clear by the elements leaving behind a deep rich peaty soil that despite its shadowed location was dry and soft to the touch. Bulbous roots breached the soft earth, creating nest like nooks at their bases. Nooks perfect for a weary traveller to hunker down in for the night.
A small circle of stones sat in the middle of the clearing – a cheery blaze casting energetic shadows across the landscape. Suspended on sticks over the fire, a brace of quail roasted. Careful not to burn his hands, one of the travellers reached forward to turn the birds for an even cook.
Settling himself back down, Hercules peered across the fire at his best friend and winced despite himself. Through the heat haze he could see Iolaus trying to adjust the way he was sitting without much success. It was hard to get comfortable when your left arm was in a sling because of a dislocated shoulder. It was even harder to get comfortable when your right arm was broken as well. And it was nearly impossible to get comfortable when your chest was swathed in bandages to support several cracked ribs.
And when your friend's injuries were your fault – it was impossible to get comfortable at all.
Hercules lowered his head and stared at the ground beneath his feet. What could he say that he hadn't already said? There were only so many words in the world that could express how badly he felt about what had happened. It had been over a week and he still felt like something you would scrape off the sole of your shoe over the whole incident. What made it worse was the whole thing could have been avoided if he had just listened to Iolaus in the first place! But no – he had to do it his way.
Hercules snorted to himself in disgust. When Nemesis had appeared on the river heading to Thrace she had been after Iolaus for the crimes of pride, arrogance and ego – now Hercules wondered if she had gotten the right person?
Hadn't Iolaus cautioned about being too trusting of the 'merchant' who had lost his way on the way to Tenea and begged to travel with them? Hadn't he said that he didn't like the man and that something about his story didn't seem right?
Just because HE hadn't sensed it and laughed it off as Iolaus having bad associations with Salmoneus, when had he stopped listening to his friend? Was he really that arrogant?
When they passed through that small village, hadn't Iolaus said he had seen the man in a huddled conversation with some less than savoury characters down a side alley, and that money had seemed to exchange hands? Didn't he again reiterate his dislike of their travelling companion and that they should part company with him?
It was pride that whispered in his ear that it was the right thing to do, to help, and that Iolaus was just jumpy.
Didn't Iolaus object strongly when the merchant had told them of a short cut he knew cutting through a hillside, saving hours off their journey. If the man knew the area so well, why was he lost? Iolaus had countered. When they arrived at the narrow canyon cleaving the landmass in half hadn't Iolaus pulled him aside and expressed he thought this was a trap and that they should go around?
Didn't his ego remind him every so gently that everything would be alright? No matter what?
So where was his Pride when in the middle of the pass the merchant had suddenly bellowed "NOW" and half a dozen ruffians appeared along the cliff edges and began pouring rocks down on the two friends'?
When Iolaus had roared his name and slammed into him pushing him out of the path of a large boulder, had his arrogance stepped in to save the day?
Was his ego shattered as he hastily dug through the shale and debris to find his friend pinned under that same rock, unconscious?
The healer in Tenea had assured him that the injuries would heal with no lasting effects to the blonde hunter, but that was little consolation to the distraught demigod.
With his usual vivacity over the next few days of recovery, Iolaus had made light of his injuries; gently teasing Hercules about his trusting nature, flirting outrageously with the healers daughter and regaling all who would listen with the tale of how after depositing him at the healers house, Hercules had proceeded to "while away the time" by hunting down the would-be-bandits and bringing them to Justice.
Hercules had flushed at hearing the story from the hunter. Seeking out the Merchant and his cohorts had been more to try to quell the growing remorse he felt for putting Iolaus once more in danger than any sense of justice.
And now… here in this forest glade they found themselves alone together for the first night since the accident. Tonight there was no distractions, no-one to butt in and ask questions, no-one to cheerily slap them on the back and sing their praises. No-one but themselves, and Hercules didn't know where to start…
…Iolaus did…
On the far side of the fire, Iolaus had finally managed to settle himself into a position that was comfortable for his various aches and pains, but flexible enough that he could lean against the tree or stretch out to sleep.
He hadn't missed the anguished look Hercules had flicked him after he had turned the birds. Iolaus could read his large friend like a book. 'He's running through what happened last week again' Iolaus thought, mentally rolling his eyes. 'If he takes any more of my mishaps onboard we might just as well change his name to Atlas!'
What had happened in the canyon was no ones fault except for that little weasel they had picked up. Iolaus had tried his best to convince Herc of this after he had regained consciousness. In fact he distinctly remember that being the first thing out of his mouth. Did it do any good? No. Iolaus had been hurt and Hercules was blaming himself… AGAIN!
Given the injuries to his upper body, Iolaus couldn't at present beat some sense into his buddy… the best he could probably manage was to kick him up the backside, but that wouldn't do any good either. Hercules had to learn to accept that things sometimes just happened. Through conscious or unconscious choice, Iolaus had decided decades ago that he was going to be Hercules defender. In making that stand he had openly accepted that the price for being at Hercules side would likely need to be paid for at times by his body! And it was a price he paid willingly. Hercules semi-divine healing abilities aside, Iolaus would still knowingly put himself in danger for his friend. There was no question.
True more often than not the injuries he had sustained over the years had come more from his own stupidity than anything Herc had done… Weaving when he should have ducked… Thrusting when he should have parried and the like.
So to see his friend sitting in abject distress for something he – Iolaus – had done, just wasn't right and needed to be fixed – now!
"So we're back here again are we Herc?" Iolaus asked, startling the demigod with his words.
"I… I don't think we've ever camped here before Iolaus" Hercules replied, trying to dodge Iolaus' implication.
"Y'know what I mean Hercules" the hunter sighed. "I mean here… where we always end up after I'm hurt! You; packed to the eyeballs with guilt over something that's not your fault!"
Hercules didn't respond, instead, he lowered his eyes back to the forest floor.
Iolaus, exhaled with frustration blowing his fringe out of his eyes. Gritting his teeth, he precariously levered himself to a standing position with the help of the tree and its roots. Hearing his friend's groan, Hercules looked back up and made his own move to stand. "Stay where you are hero!" Iolaus growled, arresting Hercules movement. Once on his feet Iolaus stiffly walked around the fire to where Hercules was sitting. Gingerly lowering himself down to one knee, Iolaus half slid into a sitting position, listing dangerously in the process – pulling his ribs and shoulder. Without hesitation, Hercules arm moved to steady is injured friend.
Two sets of blue eyes met. One set mildly irritated, the other despairing. Hercules, opened his mouth to speak, only to be beaten to the punch
You're gonna tell me you're sorry again? Aren't you?" Iolaus challenged arching an eyebrow at his friend. "Herc you've been telling me that all week!"
"So?" came the mumbled reply.
"SO?" Iolaus echoed in exasperation. "So, I'll tell you the truth I'm over it already – really!" Iolaus couldn't help but notice the flinty hurt that flickered across the demigods face as the larger man's jaw rippled from being clenched. "Herc… buddy… you've gotta listen to what I'm saying here… As long as we've been together you've taken every thing that happens to me onto yourself because you think it's your fault. It's not… And it's gonna stop, now before you turn into a old twisted demigod." Iolaus shot his friend a grin… "Don't think I've missed you doing extra stretches for your lower back the past few mornings. It's not age that getting you buddy! You've been carrying so much guilt on your shoulders, and you wonder why your back still aches?" Iolaus poked Hercules in the ribs with his free hand to emphasize the point.
"Well, I'm telling you this for your own good... I'm one little bundle of guilt you can drop now… I won't break! I promise you… I… won't… break!" He spoke in such a small, still, tone that it took Hercules a moment to register what his friend had said. Looking at Iolaus in surprise he was rewarded with that trademark Helios rivalling grin "So… do you think those birds are done yet or what?"
The meal was done, and the fire banked down. Back on the far side of the fire, Iolaus had retreated to his nook at the foot of the tree – spent from the day's activity. In the dim light Hercules could make out his peaceful form and soft snore. For the first time a week Hercules allowed himself a small smile as the hunter's words echoed in his mind… 'I won't break'.
No… he thought. Because diamonds never do…