Final chapter!

Chapter 10

"I am pleased to see you well," Ariadne offered with sincerity.

"I am pleased to be well, your Highness," Jason returned with cool formality.

The light was missing from his eyes. Usually when Jason was in her presence he gazed upon her with unrestrained joy and adoration, his heart reflected in his face, but not today, and she swallowed at its absence. His gaze was brief, perfunctory, his emotion was well shuttered, and she had no one to blame but herself.

She realized now it had been unwise to summon him. She had barely slept while he was missing, fearful of what the outcome might be, and she had just wanted to look upon him and be satisfied that he was fine. It had been selfish of her, and imprudent. She was engaged to another and she needed to leave Jason in peace, stop reminding him of what could never be.

But it was hard to be sorry when he looked so agreeable. Unmarked by his ordeal, which was a surprise. Dion had advised her that Jason was affected by his captivity and may not be well enough to attend a summons less than twenty four hours after returning to Atlantis. He'd been deliberately vague about what ailed Jason, and she wasn't sure if it was out of discretion or because he didn't want to alarm her, but alarmed she was, imagining grave injury and disfigurement.

Whatever infirmity Jason suffered was either passed or well hidden because he looked as he always did, boyishly rugged, lean and strong. And she was confused by it, wondering why Dion hadn't just said, Jason is fine, why he had hedged about like something was wrong, like Jason was suffering. If he had been open it would have saved a lot of unnecessary concern and this awkward encounter. And now it was hard to explain, why she had summoned only him and not his friends. It had been deliberate. She had expected a note in return declining the invitation, and that would have been the catalyst for a personal visit, which she would have much preferred, away from the prying eyes of the court. And not at all inappropriate, to visit a man injured in her service.

She smiled thinly, expert at revealing nothing of her thoughts.

"I wanted to thank you personally for your service, to me and to the city. The gold you helped secure has been invaluable. Once again I am in your debt."

Jason kept his gaze cast down, remained respectfully on one knee as he replied, "I can hardly claim any credit for the delivery of the gold. I think the mission was successful in spite of me."

She smiled at his modesty. "You suffered in my service. I don't dismiss it lightly. Please rise," she added impatiently.

He gained his feet, stood with his hands clasped behind his back, flicked his eyes to her face only briefly then settled his attention at her feet. "Thank you, I appreciate your kindness."

There was a time when he would have said more, addressed her as an equal, without regard for whether it was discreet or not. She enjoyed that about him, his frank charm, even if it could be disarming. But now he was tightly controlled, uncomfortable in her presence, looking like he would rather be elsewhere. She guessed he wasn't deliberately being hurtful, it wasn't in his nature, but she felt the lack of his smile. She had never known conversation with him to be so difficult.

"I understand you fell into the hands of our enemy?"

"Briefly, yes."

"And you lived to tell the tale," she said lightly.

His expression clouded, he glimpsed at her face then looked away with a frown, and she couldn't understand what might trouble him about escaping Pasiphae's clutches.

"I should like to hear about it," she persisted. "The reports I received do not appear to be entirely reliable."

He looked at her in puzzlement. "I'm sure you have been well advised."

"I heard that you were injured," she said with a flick of her brow. "And yet here you are looking well. Not that I'm complaining."

He lowered his gaze, shifted his weight uncomfortably and finally, reluctantly, admitted, "I was shot in the back."

Ariadne's heavy brows flirted with her hairline as her eyes went wide.

"It's nothing," he added quickly, aware of her alarm. "I'm fine."

"That doesn't sound like nothing," she returned, a little breathless, assessing him again, wondering how he could appear so unaffected after suffering such a wound only a few days ago. He betrayed nothing of it, his fortitude was amazing. "It does in fact sound like a grave injury. Why would you appear before me if you were hurt?"

Jason regarded her with mild bemusement. "Because you summoned me. I was unaware that I had a choice in coming."

"Yes, but I…" Ariadne broke off as footsteps approached from behind. She assumed it was Dion, entering through the private door to advise her no doubt of some new problem that needed her attention. But when she turned her head she saw it was Telemon and frowned her surprise. He never ordinarily interrupted her administrative duties. He gave her a cursory, familiar smile and walked past her toward Jason with his arms outstretched like he was going to embrace him.

"Jason," he greeted warmly. At the last minute he dropped his arms and offered a handshake. "I heard you were here and had to come see for myself."

Jason appeared startled by the welcome. He took a small step backward and stiffly accepted the proffered hand.

"I understand Atlantis nearly lost its favorite son," Telemon said lightly. "Had I known of your mission I could have joined you, and saved you the indignity of capture. Imprisoned by a woman, I'll bet that dented your pride."

Jason tensed and opened his mouth to reply, something cutting, she could tell by his dark expression but she belayed it by getting in first.

"Telemon," Ariadne uttered, with mild warning. She didn't appreciate his interference or passive aggression. "I have a few more matters to attend, then I would be happy to spend time with you."

"My darling, I'm here to see Jason. Although I would never decline an invitation to spend time with you." His overconfidence was grating. "I just wanted to let him know how much he was missed. I believe you had given him up for dead."

Ariadne fluttered her lashes and forced a tight smile. "It was a trying few days," she agreed.

"Tears in the pillow, Jason," the prince said conspiratorially, with calculated rue. "That beautiful face so downcast. You've never seen a person so miserable. Anyone would think she was betrothed to you."

Ariadne rose angrily from her throne and glared at the prince.

Telemon twisted in her direction, eyes wide and innocent. "My darling, don't be ashamed of your feelings. You feel for Jason the way you feel for all your citizens, you would cry at the loss of any of them."

"I would," she agreed tersely. "And now you should leave me to finish conducting business."

"Of course my dear." Telemon turned an icy gaze to Jason, slapped him on the shoulder a little too hard. "So good to have you back," he uttered with a lacing of menace. "I'll see you around."

As Telemon stalked out past the guards, through the main entrance, Ariadne sank back onto the throne, her face flushed. She inhaled a steadying breath and could hardly bear to look at Jason, humiliated by her fiancée's jealousy.

"He's a real keeper," Jason commented angrily, and immediately raised his hands apologetically, aware it was improper. "Sorry," he muttered.

"He is a prince," she returned dully, not intending it as a rebuke, although she could tell that's how it was received, more an acknowledgment that beggars can't be choosers. Jason's jaw ticked, his eyes shone in offence because it was the one area in which he couldn't compete, no matter how worthy he might be.

Ariadne sighed inwardly. It was an unmitigated disaster. Jason had been affronted in a myriad of ways, and that had certainly not been the intention in summoning him. She had just wanted to see him. It was an innocent ambition gone completely awry and she could see no point in prolonging it.

"Thank you for coming," she said despondently. "You are dismissed."

Jason strode into the palace courtyard and immediately caught sight of his friends, lounging on the small wall that rounded the fountain, waiting for him to conclude his interview. He exhaled deeply to release his agitation and moved toward them.

"Have we been pressed into service again?" Hercules greeted him, with barely contained annoyance. "I mean, I enjoy the money but this is too much, we only got back to the city yesterday."

Jason raised a hand. "We don't have another mission. Ariadne just wanted to thank us for delivering the gold."

The big man's brow wrinkled in genuine confusion. "Then why didn't she summon all of us? I mean, if you want to get technical, we were the ones who actually delivered the gold."

"I did point that out," Jason placated. "I think she wanted to see if I was alright. She seemed to think I was badly injured."

"Well, you were," Pythagoras replied logically.

"But I'm not now," Jason argued. "And I don't know why Dion would tell her that."

Hercules suggested, "Probably because the last Dion saw, you were passed out on the forest floor."

Jason opened his mouth to refute it but took a moment to consider the return journey and remembered that he'd felt pretty poorly early. And Dion had left early. He was crestfallen to realize that the two had intersected, because he cared about the impression he left on the general, and was disappointed that apparently he had been perceived as some kind of mess.

Hercules, sensing his friend's dismay added, "I think it was forgivable given, you know, the arrow in the back, and nearly getting your hand lopped off."

Jason tried to rally at the understanding, but in the end he just had to stow his dissatisfaction, and continue. "Anyway, then Telemon came in," he hissed through his teeth, "and things got weird..."

"Ooh, now its getting interesting. What did Telemon want?"

Jason squinted his eyes uncertainly. "To threaten me?"

"He threatened you?" Hercules returned, a little too loudly, eyes blazing and Pythagoras shushed him, not wanting to cause a commotion with guards standing nearby.

"Kind of. Not really. I don't know." Jason threw up his hands because the more he thought about it, the less he understood the performance, or why it was considered necessary.

Pythagoras looked sideways at Hercules, to see if he was keeping up. "I'm confused."

"It was very confusing," Jason fervently conceded.

Hercules focus shifted to the surrounds, to who might be within earshot, and said, "I think we need to get a drink."

Jason inclined his head readily but Pythagoras protested, "It's a little early to start drinking."

"Its never too early to start drinking," Hercules disagreed sagely. "Wine was actually invented to accompany breakfast."

"No it wasn't," Pythagoras scoffed.

"Who do you think knows more about wine, you or me?"

Hercules wound an arm around each friend's shoulder and propelled them down a corridor heading for the palace exit.

They ended up in a dingy tavern near the palace end of the city. It was amazing how well acquainted Hercules was with drinking holes, Jason was certain that his friend could find himself in any sector of the city and know of a tavern within a short distance. The one they entered looked old, a little dilapidated, paint peeling from the walls, the floor simply well trodden earth, the furnishings were minimal, square wooden tables, crates for chairs. But they weren't there for the ambience. Hercules immediately caught the eye of the owner as they entered, gave him a smile like they were acquainted, and motioned for a jug of wine to be delivered.

They followed the big man to a vacant table, and Jason noticed in surprise how many people started drinking before lunch, he would have thought the place to be deserted but about a quarter of the tables were occupied.

The wine and three mugs were delivered to the table within moments of them sitting, Hercules steady patronage affording them superior service. The big man dispensed the liquor among the mugs and distributed them among the group. Jason immediately took a large gulp, still a little rattled by the encounter with Ariadne.

Hercules appraised him with a cocked eyebrow and said evenly, "So what's this I hear about you wanting to leave Atlantis?"

Jason nearly choked on the wine, startled by the question. He set the mug on the table in front of him, took a beat to ensure the liquid in his mouth was safely past his throat, then shook his head in disconcerted denial. "Who said I wanted to leave Atlantis?"

Hercules eyes slid to Pythagoras, and the mathematician shrank a little under the scrutiny. "Well- You did," he returned sheepishly. "Last night."

"Did I?" Jason's mouth parted slightly as he tried to recall what he'd said. He'd rambled a bit last night, exhausted, a bit fragile, and he couldn't quite remember the details. He thought their conversation had been about Pasiphae. Finally he had to ask, "What did I say?"

"That maybe it was time to leave Atlantis."

"Oh." He focussed on the table, looking through it trying to force the recollection, but he honestly couldn't remember in what context he'd mentioned leaving Atlantis. And he didn't want to guess at it. He shrugged helplessly and said, "Did I say why?"

Pythagoras studied him closely, looking for disingenuousness, and finally admitted, "No."

"Okay, lets explore this properly," Hercules said, sounding foreign in the role of pragmatist. "Do you want to leave Atlantis?"

Jason scratched his head. "Not right now."

"Don't be cute," Hercules warned. "Just be straight with us, we can handle it."

"I don't want to leave," Jason returned honestly, expression sober, slightly alarmed by the seriousness of his friends tone. "Where are you going with this? Do- do you think that I should?"

"No," Hercules returned vehemently, horrified by the suggestion.

"Of course not," Pythagoras concurred when Jason's distressed gaze fell upon him.

"Then why are you bringing it up?" Jason asked, face pinched in consternation.

"Because you brought it up," the blond man returned, slightly exasperated. "Last night."

Jason shook his head. "I wasn't exactly on top of my game last night. Why would you take notice of anything I said?"

"Because you sounded like you were honestly considering it."

Jason leaned back in the chair, and felt the remorse of revealing too much when not entirely in control, because of course he'd considered it, he considered it often, whether it would be better for everyone if he removed himself from the city. But it wasn't something he wanted to have an open discussion about.

"I guess I wasn't thinking straight," he floundered. "I can assure you, I have no plans to leave Atlantis. I mean, I only just got back." His anxious eyes met Hercules', and the big man looked convinced, relieved, while a glance at Pythagoras revealed him looking skeptical but not combative, like he was willing to let the matter rest. "Forget about whatever I said last night," Jason insisted, "I was just..." he crossed his arms, oversharing is what he was, which was never welcome, but then a thought occurred to him, he looked sharply at Pythagoras and finished, "drugged. Wait a minute." He pointed an accusing finger at his friend. "I didn't know what I saying last night because you drugged me. Perhaps we should have a conversation about that."

Hercules smirked. "I heard about that. Wish I'd stayed up to watch."

Jason narrowed his eyes, finding little humour in the subject.

"I have already apologised," Pythagoras said with weary defiance. "I'm sorry I put a sedative in your drink, even though it was in your best interests."

"No." Jason swung his head firmly. "Don't justify it. And don't ever do it again, it is a slippery slope, and I don't want to be worrying about what you're putting in my food."

"Yes, alright," the mathematician returned peevishly. "I promise not to make you well ever again."

"No." Jason swung his head again, grinding his teeth but determined to keep his voice level. "Don't do that either. Don't deliberately misunderstand me. I love you like a brother, and I have to admit that I feel pretty damn good today, but next time be honest about what you're doing. Jason, I'm about to knock you out. Is that ok with you?"

Pythagoras gave a short laugh. "I hardly think it would be a civil conversation."

"Then perhaps it's a clue that you shouldn't do it."

"Ah, I've missed this," Hercules sighed happily. "Haven't you missed this? The three of us back together, arguing about nothing. Not an archer in sight. This is living."

Pythagoras smiled warmly at his friend. "It has been a long week."

Jason nodded his agreement, sharing the feeling that after a week of tension and wariness it was a relief to be unencumbered by purpose or responsibility.

"Let's drink to that," Hercules said, raising his mug in toast, and they all swallowed a mouthful of wine.

The ensuing pause felt like an opportunity to Jason, a carpe diem kind of moment, and he decided to seize it, ducked his head shyly and began, "Look. I just want to say- you are very good friends. I mean, really- the best kind of friends-. And I really appreciate what you did-" he took a hasty swig of wine to bolster his courage, not at all comfortable about expressing his feelings, even though it felt right, and overdue. He couldn't look at either friend's face in case it stop him in his tracks. "Entering an enemy camp to find me was just, you know, above and beyond, I never would have expected it. And- and it's not just that- I mean, there are other times- you've both been so-" Jason sighed because he was making a real meal of it, and swore under his breath.

"No, please continue," Hercules quipped lightly. "It's not at all awkward or uncomfortable." He tousled the young man's hair and Jason playfully batted his hand away. "Perhaps, rather than force us to endure more of your stuttering, you should make dinner for the next month to show your appreciation."

"Perhaps I should," Jason smiled.

They spent the afternoon in the tavern, chatting and joking about anything and everything, easy and joyous in each other's company. Jason knew that he loved these men. He had already known that, it had dawned upon him early in the relationship, but it was impressed upon him once again. He would do anything for these men. It felt like a bond stronger than family because it involved choice and willingness. He would do anything for them, and he felt in his soul that they would do anything for him. It felt good to revel in it for a while.

The End