Author's Note: The "Hercules: The Legendary Journeys" fandom isn't very large or lively these days, but it has always been one of my favorites. There are some wonderfully talented authors, many of whom still have their work available at the Iolausian Library. However, the archive on this site is extremely small. Even so, I'd like to make my own writing available for those few readers who may be out there, wishing that more Hercules stories existed. So enjoy, kindred spirits!

Golden Apple

by Swiss

1. Apple

Character(s): Iolaus, Hercules, Jason

Summary: The Mongolian Orlok sends a gift of admiration to a certain blond hunter, and Jason is understandably exasperated.

"This is just ridiculous."

Jason stood surveying the myriad crates being carried into the throne room and left in towering stacks that had begun to crowd every available bit of his marble floor. Almost every bit, and still the parcels were coming. They had arrived early that morning packed into a ship from Corinth's newest trading partner. And the circumstances that had brought them to the palace?

Iolaus flinched away from the look on consternation on his old friend's face. "Hey! Don't look at me like it's my fault." He sought the appropriate tone to fully insinuate his complete lack of involvement, "I didn't do this."

Jason raised dark brows. "Oh? Then why, may I ask, am I currently holding a message from the Mongolian Orlok with your name all over it?"

Iolaus pouted, "You can't be sure she was talking about me. I was only there for support. She never got my name."

"Bright Sun across the Steppe," Jason read from the list in his best uplifted tone. "Light of the Deity in the pallid, barbarian winter, flaming heart of Udon, Dawning Balm in –"

"Okay, you can stop now. Gee."

The older man looked revolted. "How did she come up with all this rubbish?"

Hercules took the paper from Jason and flattened it as it curled around his fingers. A quirk of amusement lined his face as he read through the endearments again. "You should have seen it in person," he commented. He grinned at his partner, his expression caught somewhere between affection and exasperation. "You really had an impression on them. I think maybe it was the back flip off the horse."

Iolaus snorted. "Well, someone had to make up for your bad impression."

Hercules only shrugged, waving the letter at him as though to say, 'Yeah? Well, look where it got you.'

There was a miserable eye-roll. "I'm never being polite to foreign dignitaries ever again," Iolaus declared. "How did they even get these apples? I thought they were nomadic."

Gloomily, the King or Corinth muttered, "You'd be amazed the clout of impassioned royalty."

Hercules felt the need to defend his friend. "It really was an accident, Jason," he said.

"One time is an accident," Jason ground out the words. He crossed his arms, surveying the hall. "I just don't understand how this always happens when I send you two anywhere."

"Hey, we always come back with a treaty, don't we?"

"And with a stack of requests to purchase one curly-headed blond Corinthian from half a dozen wealthy royals or dignitaries you happened to bump into along the way."

"I'm charismatic!" Iolaus squawked, as though this explained everything.

"All I have to say is that it's a good thing you're really from Thebes." Jason shook his head. "Thankfully, most of these people understand politics, if nothing else. Otherwise, Corinth would have long ago been at war with half the tribes and countries around the Mediterranean."

"Aw, you wouldn't sell me, would you, Jason?"

Any smart response died in this throat in the face of Hercules' look of imminently descending wrath. Demurely, Jason muttered, "Of course not."

They all took a few moments to brood over the mounting piles of crates. Gesturing to the mess, Iolaus returned to his original argument. "I still don't see how all of this is my fault."

"If you hadn't eaten that whole bowl of apples," Hercules began objectively.

"I was starving, Herc! And they were such pretty things. Red and green and so crunchy…" He began to take on a dazed, rapturous expression, and Jason sighed, imaging what damage that such an image had caused. Honestly. No one had a right to look that completely blissful over apples. It wasn't his charm that got him – them – in so much trouble, Jason decided. It was that face. He just had a way of being too damn luminescent all the time.

Jason sighed again, rubbing vainly at the onset of a headache building in his temple. "Well, I hope you enjoyed them. Because your new buddies have now gifted you with enough to feed the entire city. And now they are sitting. In my throne room."

"I like apples," Iolaus commented flippantly. He had drawn his sword and seemed to be considering prying open one of the boxes, but then he thought better of it and gestured imperiously at Hercules. With a resigned shrug, the demi-god helpfully tore up the lid. Iolaus dove in, coming up with one bright, waxy fruit in each hand and another in his mouth. "Mmmph." His pleasure was muffled through his mouthful, but they got the idea.

"At least it's not a litter of serpopard like last time," Hercules pointed out. The other two both shuddered. The Nubian Leul had been less…diplomatic…than most.

Jason resumed his disgusted survey. Iolaus idly munched on an apple. Both younger men blinked innocently at Jason's glare. "It's not so bad Jason," Hercules tried to console him.

"What am I supposed to do with enough apples to stock a festival?" the king blurted. A thoughtless blunder.

Iolaus perked up immediately. "Festival?" he repeated.

The grimace that stole over Jason's face was enough to make Hercules laugh. Iolaus was bouncing on the balls of his feet. Somehow the apples in his hands had multiplied, and a fey light had dawned in his eyes. Both of his friends watched as his happiness seemed to intensify to a golden glow. Jason went so far as to groan.

Unaffected, Iolaus begged hopefully, "Festival?"

Hercules gestured around them at their plentiful bounty. "Well, we do have the apples."