Fortune's Fool: Chapter 8

Hi – thanks *so* much for your great feedback for the last chapter! And jmp, I'm sorry I can't reply to you personally, but thanks for your reviews – I really appreciate them. I hope people enjoy the next part and please, if you do enjoy it, just a couple of words to let me know really helps motivation :-)


Time was running short but Jason travelled quickly. He didn't think he had ever pushed himself to go so fast. He had hired a horse from one of the local horse merchants but even then, it took nearly half a day's riding. Eventually, he had drawn the horse up to a halt when the familiar terrain to the silver mines rose in to sight. He dismounted with slightly wobbly legs. He hadn't grown up on the back of a horse, like the others around him and it still took some getting used to.

After the horse was secured, Jason turned towards his path. He took a deep breath. The air was too warm: it felt like breathing through an oven vent. Despite his urgency, Jason took his time climbing the steep ascent. It was an awful situation to find himself in and Hercules' plight constantly weighed heavily on his mind. But in a way, it was a blessing – it afforded him the reason he needed to breach this gap, to make the journey that he should have made weeks ago. Thoughts of Hercules pushed aside his own more confusing ones and helped him to focus, to persevere.

When Jason reached the top and stood before the mouth of the old mine, he stopped in surprise. He had expected to find Aeson waiting for him having been sure his approach was noted. But only darkness stretched out to greet him. Cautiously, Jason entered the mines. He had brought no light with him so hoped he wouldn't have far to venture. As he advanced further in to the mines, the familiar rocks enclosed around him and Jason felt his pulse quicken.

No, he thought, desperately. Not now! He took a deep breath and briefly shut his eyes. In his mind, roaring in his ears, rocks tumbled and crashed around him as the ceiling, the walls, the entire world collapsed on top of him. Blackness like he had never known it swathed him; choked him. In his head, he began to keen. It could have been out loud but he couldn't be sure. Jason never even realised that he had doubled over until his hand scraped and grappled at the rocky wall of the mine, struggling to find purchase, to anchor himself back to reality and out of the nightmare of the cave-in. His chest hurt, his breath came in short gasps and Jason fought to control the fear that seemed to be crippling him as his pulse raced.

A hand suddenly rested on his back, rubbing soothing circles. A voice gradually broke through the haze and pulled him back to his present surroundings, piece by piece. Jason latched on to it, allowing it to reel him in.

"Easy, Jason. You're safe. Just listen to my voice and breathe." He screwed his eyes shut tighter but nonetheless, tried to do what the voice said. He was dizzy and gripped the wall harder, only to discover that his stony grip had been replaced by the firm grasp of a human hand.

"Just breathe, son. Easy does it." Ever so carefully, the hands reached to his waist and eased him upwards until he was standing upright. Jason felt the blood rush as he straightened but he had to admit, the air was clearer and the pain in his chest began to lessen. The boy was dimly aware of his feet moving; of being half led, half dragged along until suddenly, he was out in the brilliant sunshine and being lowered down onto the ground.

The hand continued to gently rub circles in-between his shoulder-blades. "I'm sorry, Jason," the voice murmured, just above his ear. "I should have come out to meet you. I didn't think." And suddenly, as the panic drained out of him and safety returned, Jason properly registered who he was talking to.

He looked up at the man who crouched beside him and saw the concerned eyes of Aeson looking down at him. The man's hood was drawn back and Jason couldn't help but gasp at the person who stood before him. His eyes were lined with crow's feet and shadows but aside from the weathering of age, bore no signs of disfigurement. Faint scars of what had once been leprosy were visible on one side of his face but more than ever before, the man stood out, clear as day. His father.

Aeson saw the flash in his son's eyes and smiled, almost sadly. "Hello Jason. It's very good to see you again." He hesitated for a moment; hedged his bets: "I think we have a lot to talk about."

Jason's eyes stung with unshed tears as he looked up at him. He struggled to make his mouth work but only succeeded in leaving it hanging open. Words stumbled and halted on his lips as he tried to make himself speak. His father was looking down on him, now after all these long, lost years. The face was not the face he recalled from his childhood but Jason realised now that the ghostly image he had fought to hold on to all of his life, was nothing more than a projection: the image of the father he used to have and of the hero that he longed for him to be.

Perhaps seeing the struggle his son was having to speak, Aeson moved to fill the gap. "If you're feeling up to moving, you should stand," he advised. "We can move to the shade of the trees over there and get out of the sun." Mutely, glad to have something to focus his mind on, Jason nodded and allowed Aeson to pull him up standing. The boy glanced down at the rough and calloused hands that grasped his own. He couldn't help but marvel at the touch – his father's hands. They would be like his own. Everything this man did now was different to the man he had met in the silver mines those months past.

Silently, Aeson still keeping a gentle hand on his shoulder, Jason led the way down the rocky path and into the shade of a small grove of trees. He sat down on a fallen tree trunk, only realising a moment later that it was Aeson who had gently guided him to it and propelled him to sit. Aeson then sat next to him and Jason felt his body tense, ever so slightly.

"Are you feeling better now?"

Jason nodded, slightly irritated that his earlier panic attack was being given so much attention. "I'm fine, thanks." He took a deep breath and looked squarely at the older man who regarded him with such quiet intensity. "I talked to Pasiphae." Aeson closed his eyes for a moment.

"I thought as much." His voice grew hard. "She was going to keep silent. I should have known she would go back on her word." Then he gave a short, bitter laugh: "Perhaps I always knew it." He fixed a longing, sad look on his son. "Perhaps the silence was too much for me to bear as well." Tentatively, he reached out a hand to Jason and gently cupped one side of the boy's face.

He could feel his son trembling beneath his touch. Jason blinked hard. He would not allow himself to give in to tears. He had so many tears from so many scars that never healed. If he were to start crying now, he didn't think he'd be able to stop. His lip began to tremble and he clamped it between his teeth.

"My son," Aeson whispered, rubbing his thumb across the young man's cheek and on hearing those words, Jason felt his abused heart crack and rend in two. "My strong, beautiful boy." There were tears in the old man's eyes, threatening to fall. When Jason saw them, he quickly looked away and his father removed his hand from his son's face. "I'm so proud of you, Jason. You are every inch the young man I hoped you would become."

Jason bowed his head and swallowed past the rock in his throat. "I don't understand," he managed, his voice a strangled whisper. "I understand why you took me away. Pasiphae told me." Aeson's look darkened in suspicion at this but he let his son continue. "But I don't understand why you had to leave me there."

Aeson sighed, wearily and shook his head at the look of anguish on his boy's face. He looked like a child: confused, betrayed and hurt by what he could not understand and Aeson felt his own heart clench. "Oh, Jason!" he breathed. "Believe me when I say leaving you in that world was the hardest thing I ever had to do. But I couldn't stay, son. I just couldn't. I belonged in Atlantis. My country was at war with itself. It was a bloody, brutal time. I had to try and bring peace to it – I had a kingdom to save."

Jason looked up, sharply, his eyes burning: "You had a son, too."

Aeson leaned back a little, regarding him with a touch more coolness. "You were already saved," he said. "Others were not so fortunate." He watched Jason bite his lip and turn away from him, his body tense and his arms shaking.

The boy needed time to adjust, to accept and perhaps, Aeson mused, he still had a little growing up to do as well. But he couldn't blame his son. He had been raised in a different time, a different place and in any event, he was still so young when all was said and done. So wonderfully malleable and innocent: nothing like his mother.

"You were brought up in a world of peace," his father continued. "Of marvellous inventions and ideals. A world of wonder." He smiled, wistfully. "It hurt me to leave you, but I left glad in the knowledge that you would have a better life than you could ever hope for in Atlantis – that you would be happy."

Jason fought so hard. His whole body felt like it was shaking. He fought so hard not to let loose with every night he had woken up in terror, screaming for a father who was becoming more and more faceless as the years passed. Aching years of loneliness, of questions, of uncertainty and an utter lack of self-worth screamed at him for acknowledgment.

Happy? As if he had been left in some kind of blissful Never-Never Land? The Magical Kingdom of Disney? Jason would have laughed but that would have only made him start crying. It was true, he had lived a good life, more or less, but true happiness would have been to have lived it with the one person who was supposed to have cared enough to stick around and live it with him.

He had lived a half-life; ghosting through his own existence; leaving footprints on water.

Jason breathed in and out deeply, willing his body to stop shaking. Eventually, the tremors stopped. Aeson still regarded him patiently, lovingly and Jason pushed aside the angry, confused child. This child would have wailed and ranted and taken far too much of their precious time. He needed to be the man his father hoped he was now, no matter how much he felt like the opposite.

"You must have many questions," Aeson encouraged, smiling. To be sitting once more in this boy's presence was something he never imagined would happen again. Jason laughed, perhaps a little harshly.

"More than you know," he said. "But I'm struggling to think of them now. And in any case, that's not what I came here for."

A look of surprise crossed Aeson's face and Jason momentarily enjoyed having the upper hand in the conversation having spent so long being the last to know everything. "I came hoping you could help me. Someone very close to me is in trouble."

Aeson quickly reigned in his surprise and, it had to be said, his hurt. "The Princess Ariadne?" Minos' daughter was no enemy of his but nor was the girl his priority, however much his son was besotted with her. But Jason shook his head.

"No. She's fine. It's my friend, Hercules." He paused, searching his father's uncomprehending yet earnest expression. "You met him. He was the older man who came with me that day, with Pythagoras and Ariadne."

Aeson's eyes widened both at the memory and with recognition. "Ah yes. I remember him now. What's happened?"

And so Jason recounted, as briefly as he could, Hercules' tale ending with his fall into the sacred pool and his arrest. He became more animated, more urgent as he spoke, his own pain melting away as the present danger reawakened. Aeson listened patiently, nodding in understanding in some places, in sympathy at others.

Finally, when Jason paused for breath, he spoke: "It's a terrible circumstance," he agreed. "But what is it that you think I can do?"

"Minos has ordered his execution. Well, he's not calling it that. He's hiding it behind some pathetic excuse of 'rolling the waves' or some rubbish like that. But it's the same thing. They're going to drown him, in less than three days – on Poseidon's Day!"

Again, Aeson nodded and Jason was almost stunned to see the lack of outrage on his father's face. This was his father! The man would abhor the sentence as much as he, surely? But though Aeson looked sad, regretful, he did not rage with injustice. "I'm truly sorry that this has happened to your friend, Jason and I hesitate to hold with any decision of Minos'. But your friend broke a sacred law. If he had stood in judgement before me, I would have done the same."

Jason suddenly leapt to his feet, turning angry, accusatory eyes on his father. "How can you say that?" he demanded. "Hercules did it to save the woman he loves!"

Aeson also rose to face the boy, his hands held out, palms up in a placating gesture. "Calm yourself, Jason. I know the world you were raised in had a different set of moral standards…"

"Yes! Yes it did and it taught me that a human life is more valuable than a custom and a belief. I know you all keep expecting me to just think like an Atlantean now but since you went to the trouble of sending me away in the first place, you're going to have to accept the fact that I don't think like the rest of you, I can't think like the rest of you and quite frankly, seeing what I see of your precious Atlantis now, I don't want to think like you!"

By the time Jason had finished, his face was flushed and he was breathing heavily. He turned away from his father, hands clenched at his sides. He honestly didn't know if he was angry, betrayed, scared or just distraught. A hand suddenly rested on his shoulder and he spun to face the man, his expression wary and guarded. Aeson raised a hand and Jason instinctively braced himself as it came towards him. However, it came to rest, tenderly on his cheek.

"I'm sorry, Jason. What can I do to help?"

Jason hesitated. Should he apologise for his outburst? He wasn't sure, not remembering his father's temperament. But he had to take this opportunity while it was offered. "I need to know if I can trust Pasiphae."

Aeson nodded in understanding. "You want to ask your mother for help? To have your friend released or his sentence commuted?" He had guessed as much when Jason spoke of the trial. His suspicions were confirmed a moment later, as his son nodded.

"Do you think she might consider it?"

Aeson hesitated, thinking; weighing his words: "Your mother will do nothing without her own agenda." He watched the hope drain from his son's eyes and felt his gut twist a little. "But," he continued, "if she thinks she can gain from it, she may be persuaded. She has nothing to gain from his death and that, ultimately is what could secure the deal.

But you must not appear too eager. Do not give her an opening. If she sees a chance to pounce, she will take it." He levelled a firm gaze – almost a glare – at his son. "Never underestimate her. She may help but deal wisely." He sighed harshly. "You are ill-prepared to handle her, I fear." Aeson glanced back at his son who was looking at him in barely concealed supplication – a desperation he had previously seen on a much younger version of that face. Jason's eyes beseeched his own.

"Will you help?" Jason asked, his voice small, desperate and innocent. Aeson looked into his son's earnest eyes and felt his resistance falter. His son was brave, strong and gifted but for all that, he was still his boy. He could not leave a lamb to negotiate with the wolf.

He gave a short nod, noting the relief flood through the boy and his shoulders relax.

"I will speak to her on your behalf. I can judge her better than anyone. I shall see if she can be trusted, if she will do anything for your friend.

But you must believe me that if I tell you to stay clear of her – that she cannot be trusted under any circumstances - you will leave this idea alone. Do not try to broker your own deal. You must promise me!" And Aeson suddenly gripped his son around the arms, with more strength than Jason would have credited him with and gave him a firm shake. Startled but nevertheless sincere, Jason nodded. "I promise."

The older man appraised him a moment longer, presumably weighing up his sincerity. Jason held his breath, praying his father believed him. Eventually, Aeson nodded and continued with his instructions.

"I cannot enter the city but come to me on the city's border at sunrise in two days' time. That will give you a day to make any dealings that you must. Should I deem it wise. Remember your promise, boy." Jason was so grateful to hear his father's compliance that he didn't react to the man's tone and simply nodded his agreement.

"I will." he said. Then he suddenly launched himself on his father and flung his arms about his neck, burying his face into his shoulder. He silently soaked up the man's presence, his scent, his achingly familiar comfort. "Thank-you," he whispered, muffled against his robe. Startled at first, Aeson quickly recovered and wrapped his arms tightly around his son's waist, pulling the boy closer to him and relishing the very real touch – the solid connection with him.

Regretfully, he pulled away from Jason and gave his arms one last squeeze. "And now you must go. Go back to Pythagoras and do nothing foolish in the meantime." He fixed a meaningful glare at the boy and Jason couldn't help but laugh. Apparently, he really was that transparent. "I will meet you in the woods where we parted company on your last visit. Do you remember the place?"

Jason thought for a moment. The events that day were somewhat blurry, especially given his head injury. However, he did recall the small clearing where they had made camp. "I remember." Then he smiled once more at his father and turned away, carefully picking his way down the steep slope and back to where his mount was waiting.

As he reached the horse, he looked back. Aeson had climbed back up to the mine's entrance. He stood framing the doorway and raised a hand in farewell. Jason gave a short wave in return before Aeson turned back and disappeared inside.


That's it for now – more to come soon. Thanks for reading!