A/N Sorry for the delay in the publication of this chapter. I wish I had a good excuse but in actual fact the words simply haven't been coming recently. I do hate writers block!
Anyway thank you to those of you who are still reading. I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint too much. Let me know what you think anyway.
Jason looked up from the scroll he was reading with some surprise as a cup clanked down heavily onto his bedside table and a throat was pointedly cleared, and suppressed a sigh. The bulk of Hercules loomed over him and, as Jason looked up, folded his arms and glowered slightly. Jason mentally sighed again and put the scroll to one side, dutifully taking the cup that Hercules had banged down on the table and drinking the contents with as much meekness as he could muster, trying to keep himself from grimacing too much at the taste. Really would it be too much to ask for a tonic not to taste like it had been drawn straight from a bog for once? He approximated what he hoped was a smile of thanks at his big friend and picked up the scroll again, fully intending to return to his reading. He was therefore somewhat surprised to find the parchment plucked from his fingers and looked up again to find Hercules' broad face had darkened even further.
"Rest time," the burly wrestler announced with a growl.
"Hercules I've done nothing but rest for the last day and a half," Jason protested mildly.
For the most part it was true. Having spent much of the previous day sleeping and most of the evening curled into his mother's side listening to her stories of the Gods, Jason had woken this morning feeling a lot better. That wasn't to say he felt exactly well yet but he certainly wasn't feeling anywhere near as ill as he had. Still when Mnesus had visited after breakfast he had been adamant in his instructions that Jason should spend at least one more day in bed and that he should rest as much as possible until the last symptoms of the poisoning were gone. He had also warned Jason that the strain placed upon his body by the poison could have serious consequences if his instructions were not adhered to. Much as the young man's active nature meant that he chafed at the restrictions, Jason did have to admit to himself (although never out loud) that the longer he stayed in bed the better he felt.
His improving health had also meant that Pasiphae had felt able to return to more of her duties and leave him to his own devices. It was odd, Jason mused, how nice it felt having her around. Less than a week before he would have laughed at anyone who told him that one day he would enjoy spending time in the company of the Queen, but as the days passed he was seeing her less and less in that role and more and more in the role of his mother. Still her departure this morning had left him on his own for a short time which in some ways was a blessing. Before coming to Atlantis he had been by nature a solitary sort of person, quiet and reserved, and sometimes the constant presence of people around him here grated on his nerves a little. It wasn't as though he could slip out for some time alone at the moment either; he had a feeling that he might draw the wrath of both the King and Queen if he tried and would certainly earn one of Hercules' awkward lectures.
It didn't mean though that he had been willing to stay in bed all the time. Once Pasiphae had gone Jason had felt the need to get up to use the latrine and had decided to freshen up again before he went back to bed. True the water in the jug on the table would be cold but it wasn't as if he hadn't had to wash in cold water before – what harm could it really do? Getting up on his own had been… interesting. Jason frowned at the thought. He had been fully prepared to feel a little shaky on standing given how awful getting up had made him feel yesterday, but he had been unprepared for just how weak and wobbly he would feel. Sitting up in bed he no longer felt dizzy the way he had yesterday morning and had naively believed that the same would hold true when he was completely upright. As it was he had ended up grabbing onto the wall and holding on for dear life until the room had stopped spinning quite so much and he no longer felt like heaving up the contents of his stomach.
With grim determination he had made it to the trunk at the end of the bed. Just because he had been told to stay in bed didn't mean he was happy to lounge around in his nightclothes – especially since the doctor had told him that Ariadne had requested permission to visit at some point today. Apparently she had wanted to come to see him yesterday but the decision had been taken that he was too unwell to see her. Jason's frown deepened a little. Much as he would have liked to argue he had a horrible suspicion that Mnesus had been right – he really had felt too ill to want to see anyone and the thought that Ariadne might have seen him in that state made him shudder. Now though he had once again been deemed well enough to receive visitors – albeit with the instructions that they were to leave when he grew tired.
Bending forwards to the trunk he had nearly overbalanced as another wave of dizziness had hit him and he had ended up sitting back down on the edge of the bed for a moment to try to regain his equilibrium. Having grabbed the first tunic that came to hand (fortunately not something too formal) he had pushed himself up and limped over to the table, concentrating on countering the wobble that he still felt in his legs. After a short pause to get his breath back he had made it to the latrine and back to the table with little trouble. It was true that he was growing increasingly light headed and just couldn't seem to draw enough breath but he decided that that was probably only to be expected and if he just pushed on through it everything was bound to be alright. In actual fact he probably wouldn't have been so certain if he had been able to see himself – had seen just how pale he had become or how unsteady he looked – but the dizziness meant that he had hardly been thinking clearly at that point.
The cold water he had splashed onto his face had revived him somewhat and the brief sit down had at least allowed him to largely regain his breath. Even so he had felt more than ready to get back to bed; to rest back against the soft mattress and close his eyes for a bit until the dizziness and resultant nausea disappeared again. Pushing himself to his feet carefully Jason had determinedly ignored the way his head swam and begun to limp slowly back across the room, focussing completely on just getting to the bed and gritting his teeth as he fought to maintain his balance and put one foot in front of the other. He had gone no more than two or three short steps when the door had opened unexpectedly, causing him to spin around in surprise – or at least to try to spin around in surprise. In fact moving so quickly had caused him to stumble, his vision darkening as the giddiness had threatened to overwhelm him completely.
As he had come back to himself and become more aware of his surroundings, Jason had been surprised to discover that he had still been on his feet and had not ended up in a heap on the floor. In fact the more aware he had become the more he had realised that the reason he was still upright had been because someone was holding him there; someone with strong arms and breath that stank of cheap wine, onions and garlic. Hercules. Jason had glanced up blearily into his friend's face and known instantly that Hercules was not at all happy at having to catch him like this. He had winced slightly at the forbidding expression on the burly wrestler's face and allowed himself to be assisted into bed, where Hercules had proceeded to tuck him in almost aggressively while remaining eerily silent.
Jason had expected at the very least to be on the receiving end of one of Hercules' lectures so the silence had been unnerving to say the least. It had lasted until well after the midday meal (which Jason had tried to eat despite lacking an appetite just to please his friends) and had only been broken now with Hercules' declaration that Jason needed to rest.
The older man folded his arms and glowered at Jason.
"I was only going to read for a while," Jason went on. "Not do anything strenuous."
"And now you're only going to lie down and close your eyes for a while," Hercules growled insistently. "You're still poorly and a short nap will do you good."
"Hercules…"
"Jason you might not be concerned about your own welfare but the rest of us are," Hercules grated. "The Gods know you don't have the common sense you were born with and that makes you damned hard to look after and protect, but if you think I'm just going to stand by and let you go about your merry way risking your own health then you've got another thing coming."
Jason frowned.
"I don't need you to protect me or to look after me," he protested.
Hercules snorted.
"You've always needed looking after," he growled. "You've always rushed headlong into things without thinking of the consequences to yourself. You almost wilfully disregard your own wellbeing even when you're told how risky something might be and I for one am sick of it. This morning was the last straw Jason. You've been told that you're not well enough to be out of bed; you've been told that pushing yourself could stop you recovering as quickly; you've been told that you need to rest and let the breathlessness and the dizziness subside in their own time… and I happen to know that you were told that overexerting yourself too soon could cause unreasonable strain on your heart; could damage it. Pythagoras told me."
"He said that that was a very faint risk," Jason protested. "That it was extremely unlikely."
"But it is a risk," Hercules argued loudly, "and one that you are not going to take. You know all this and yet I still found you out of bed this morning and had to catch you before you hit the floor. That won't be happening again. So help me if I have to stay here and sit on you I will."
"I'm sorry," Jason muttered. "I made a mistake. I felt so much better than yesterday and I needed to use the facilities and I thought I could do it and get back to bed without bothering anyone. Once I was up though I didn't feel quite as well as I'd thought."
"You're always sorry," Hercules pointed out with a weary sigh as he sank down onto the bed. "But you being sorry doesn't fix anything because you never learn. Why can't you just for once in your life do as you're asked? One of these days I swear I'm going to turn you over my knee and tan your backside."
Jason shot him a startled but suitably contrite look – he hoped.
"I just don't want to let anyone down," he confessed softly, gnawing his lip. "I don't want to be a burden."
Hercules sighed again.
"You've never let anyone down," he answered, "and you're certainly not a burden." He shook his head ruefully. "I know it's still hard for you to believe but you have people who care for you now; people who worry about you… not that I worry you understand… and your life and health are important to us… I mean to them."
"You shouldn't worry about me," Jason murmured. "I'm not really worth…"
"Don't you dare finish that sentence," Hercules interrupted sharply, his face darkening deeply. "You might not think lot of yourself but the rest of us think a hell of a lot of you… and if I ever get to meet any of the people who made you believe that you were worthless then I'll make them wish they were never born."
Jason couldn't help the shy smile that crept across his lips. The chances of Hercules ever meeting anyone from his former life was non-existent but it meant more than Jason was willing to admit even to himself that the big man felt that way.
"Thanks," he said wriggling back down the bed until he was lying down and watched Hercules' broad face morph into a smile at his acquiescence.
The big man smoothed the blanket gently over his young friend's legs and adjusted the pillows to be a bit more comfortable.
"Rest," he said gently.
"I am tired," Jason admitted. "But I'm not all that sleepy yet."
"Alright," Hercules responded. "Then how about a round or two of dice? You won't have to think too hard about it and you can stay lying down and resting."
He didn't add that if Jason happened to fall asleep halfway through (as he suspected might be likely looking at how tired his friend still looked) the dice could be cleared away without too much fuss.
"That sounds good," Jason answered.
"Good," Hercules said, reaching inside his tunic to find his dice and settling himself comfortably into a chair to start their game.
"Pasiphae."
Minos' voice stopped the Queen in her tracks as she glided gracefully down a corridor, returning from a visit to the Temple, still wearing her winter cloak which billowed around her heels. The wind was colder than ever today and reminded Pasiphae to make sure that a warm cloak had been provided for her son's use. Whilst it was true that Mnesus had left instructions for bed rest to continue for today it would undoubtedly not be long before Jason was back on his feet and she had the feeling that keeping him confined to the Palace for too long would prove nigh on impossible. The boy was simply too active to allow himself to be kept indoors – even when it might be better for him to remain inside. Perhaps a compromise would be the best way to go. As soon as both she and the doctor deemed him well enough – and she would accept no arguments on this point – she would permit him to go outside for short periods as long as he was wrapped up against the current bad weather.
The thought made her frown though. She had never believed that she would be a weak mother – that she would indulge her son's every whim; had always believed that it was the duty of a child to obey their parents without question (and certainly without argument); and had despised those parents who routinely gave in to their children and allowed them to do what they wanted, thereby showing their own weakness to the world. So was compromising with Jason not showing the same sort of weakness? Was she turning into the sort of overly indulgent mother she had always hated? No, she decided. She simply knew when to pick her battles. Jason was somewhat wilful and more than a little stubborn (the results of a clearly neglected upbringing she decided) but he had also proved to be eager to please and pleasingly quick to learn. Compromise did not weaken her position as his mother – it merely strengthened their relationship; their bond.
The suddenness and severity of his recent illness had frightened her – frightened her more than she would have been willing to believe. The thought that he could so easily be taken from her made her shudder as a sudden icy chill went down her back and made her more determined than ever to ensure that Jason stayed by her side no matter what the cost; she simply could not bear to lose him again – and if that meant battling with him to ensure that he did not take unnecessary risks until he was fully well then so be it.
The way he had turned to her in the midst of his illness – the way he had accepted (and at times actively sought) her comfort – had amazed her. For the first time since he had been stolen from her so many years ago she had truly felt like a proper mother again; had felt like Jason's mother. Just a few short days ago he had come back into her life properly; just a few short days ago he had unconsciously hurt her when he had told her that he could not think of her as his mother – yet his actions over the last couple of days had belied his words.
Yesterday evening had been a case in point. Jason had had no reason to curl up against her – no reason to seek out physical affection. It was true that he was still clearly feeling unwell – was still unwell – but he was nowhere near as ill as he had been and his basic desire for independence – his spirit – was already reasserting itself. Under the circumstances she would have expected him to reject her embrace; to want to hide any weakness he felt. It would certainly have seemed more in keeping with his character. Yet the truth was that when she had seated herself on the bed (so as to be more comfortable herself) he had chosen to nestle against her and rest his head on her shoulder, allowing her to embrace him as she wanted.
The quiet moments they had shared had made Pasiphae remarkably happy. There had been no hint of Jason's usual reservation or guarding in his eyes as he had looked at her – no hint of mistrust – instead he had watched her peacefully, quietly listening to every word she said. Despite the fact that the young man at her side was plainly an adult (although Pasiphae did wonder at times just how "grown up" her son actually was) for a moment she had been reminded of the trusting little boy who had fallen asleep in her arms more times than she cared to remember; the baby who had looked up at her with sleepy eyes and who had been the absolute heart of her world.
Perhaps she should have been angry and ashamed at his lack of knowledge of the Gods and of her beliefs; perhaps he had even expected her to be. Yet what had struck her most was that he had been trying to learn – trying to educate himself – without anyone asking him to do it. Deep down Pasiphae knew that he was doing it at least in part for her whether he acknowledged the fact or not. It gave her a warm glow inside and made up for any deficiencies in his education. The fact that Aeson had taken the boy to a land so far away that he didn't even possess the most basic knowledge of the Gods still horrified her. To remove Jason so far from his roots – from his heritage – was an act that even now she simply could not comprehend.
Now though she waited for her husband to catch up with her with well concealed impatience. Her day had been far from fruitless but as it drew to a close she found herself longing to see her son; begrudging the time she had been away from him. It would have been different if Jason were fully well, she decided. Then she would not find her mind conjuring up all sorts of dire situations. She knew he was well on the road to recovery – had seen it for herself – and yet she could not help the irrational fear that briefly overcame her that he might have suffered some sort of relapse in her absence.
None of that fear was present on her face when Minos joined her, however. Instead she allowed a soft smile to grace her features – the expression of a dutiful wife. Minos, she noted absently, was dressed in his informal brown robes; robes that were never seen at public occasions but were worn at home for his comfort. They did not have the imposing grandeur of his state finery but were more comfortable and more practical for day-to-day wear. That the King was wearing them now, more than anything else, told Pasiphae that his official duties were done for the day.
"My Lord," she greeted him.
"How is Jason?" Minos asked gently. "I have not had the time to enquire today."
"He was much improved when I left him this morning," Pasiphae answered. "The Royal Physician visited shortly after breakfast and was pleased with his progress. Mnesus has ordered bed rest today but believes that Jason will be well enough to leave his bed tomorrow. He has also deemed the boy well enough to receive visitors, although only as Jason's condition dictates. Jason is still lacking in strength, is very weary… no matter how he might try to conceal it… and in a little discomfort due to a shortness of breath. Still, he is on the mend… a fact for which I thank the Gods."
"We have much to be thankful for," Minos agreed. He hesitated a moment before continuing. "Perhaps you would permit me to visit him with you," he said softly. "I would not wish to disturb the boy's rest by staying for long but given the circumstances surrounding his illness I would like to assure myself of his recovery personally."
Pasiphae was startled, although she hid it well. Given Minos' position and nature it was more in character for him to decide when he wanted to visit someone and inform her rather than asking. It was interesting that he clearly believed that her authority in matters that concerned her son superseded his own. Without knowing why she felt a little surge of gratitude towards the man.
"Of course My Lord," she responded smoothly. "If you would allow me to divest myself of my outer attire and to refresh myself first I would be grateful."
"There is no rush," Minos answered magnanimously. He looked thoughtfully at his wife. "Your duties at the Temple extended through the supper hour," he remarked.
"I am sorry My Lord," Pasiphae tried to keep her tone even and dutiful despite the little surge of irritation she felt.
She knew how important it was to Minos that he and she and Ariadne (and latterly Jason) sat down to the evening meal together. There were times, of course, when one or the other of them were absent for some reason, but it never failed to upset the King when that happened and was something that she tried to avoid wherever possible. Now though she found herself annoyed at the implication that she should have been there – if she had not been at the Temple she would have chosen to be with Jason and not at the supper table and nothing Minos could have said would have dragged her away.
"You misunderstand me my love," Minos murmured. "I was not rebuking you for your absence. In these troubled times we all have additional responsibilities and sometimes we must forgo our normal routine. Had you finished your tasks earlier and chosen to spend your supper with your son I would have understood. The day has been long and you have been absent from his side for much of it. It would only be natural that in the light of recent events if you wished to assure yourself of his wellbeing… No I merely meant to suggest that a light supper might be provided for you in your chambers and that I would request that the servants brought them to you while you were refreshing yourself. Then you might return to Jason fully refreshed and in a short time."
Pasiphae blinked in surprise. There were still times, even after all these years, when her husband's thoughtfulness could catch her unawares.
"Thank you," she said with genuine gratitude, touching his arm with one warm hand.
"Then it is decided," Minos declared with a smile. "Go ahead and refresh yourself and I will arrange for food to be brought."
Pasiphae felt much better as she approached her son's room a short while later. Minos had been right, she mused; she had needed some food to balance her properly. With her husband at her side she came to the door of Jason's chambers and paused, raising her hand to rap sharply on the door. As she did so, light and happy voices came through the door and she hesitated, listening. Beside her Minos stiffened, his face darkening into a frown.
"Stop it! You're being naughty." Ariadne's voice was full of laughter in spite of her apparent protestation.
Pasiphae froze, stiffening even more as she heard her son's answering chuckle. She knew of Jason's feelings towards Ariadne and was well aware that they were reciprocated, but surely they wouldn't have been stupid enough to do anything improper under Minos' roof? Surely Ariadne at least would understand the proprieties of the situation and would act with appropriate decorum? She had believed that even Jason would not be so stupid; that he would at least possess enough common sense not to imperil the virtue of the King's beloved daughter; that he would have more honour than that. The more she thought about it the more her blood began to boil. This one act by a pair of foolish children (for she could think of no other words to describe her son and stepdaughter right at this moment) could jeopardise everything. Much as her husband had seemed to begin to be developing a certain amount of respect for his stepson and clearly did not want to see the boy harmed (and increasingly appeared to wish the claim Jason as part of their family), she knew that if the choice came down to protecting Ariadne's reputation he would not hesitate to cast the boy out. Any punishment would clearly fall squarely on Jason's shoulders; Pasiphae was not foolish enough to believe that Minos would ever see his daughter as anything less than virtuous and would never bring himself to punish her directly.
The King's face was like thunder now and Pasiphae found her anger growing even more. With one swift jerk she pulled open the door of the chamber and swept inside.
The sight which greeted her was not the one that she had been expecting from the brief snatch of conversation she had overheard through the door. Jason was reclining comfortably on the bed, propped into a sitting position by pillows. With a frown the Queen noticed that he was fully dressed rather than being in his nightshirt and trousers as she had been expecting and was stretched out on top of the covers rather than being tucked into bed as she believed he ought to be. Ariadne on the other hand was seated in a chair alongside the bed with enough distance between herself and her stepbrother for propriety to be thoroughly maintained. Between the two young people someone had placed a small table and on it someone had set up a Petteia board. Jason's kitten was sitting on the edge of the bed and kept reaching out one delicate paw to bash the pieces from side to side, engaging in her own game and clearly not caring that she was interrupting the one that was already underway. In the far corner of the room Pythagoras was reading quietly whilst Jason's other, older friend was tossing a set of dice.
Ariadne giggled again as the kitten ferociously attacked another playing piece.
"You are being naughty," she repeated, looking at the cat.
"Isis go and keep Pythagoras company," Jason said with amused exasperation, lifting the kitten and depositing her in an affronted heap on the other side of his legs, only to find that she scrambled back across the top of him and began to pat the playing pieces once more.
Pasiphae glanced across at her husband and saw Minos' expression morph from angry to bemused in a few short seconds. It was rare, she realised, for him to see his daughter in a playful mood. Her own anger had given way to a mixture relief and irritation at her own misconception and she stepped forwards with an imperiously raised eyebrow, her face unreadable.
Jason glanced up and smiled brightly as he saw her approach. In spite of herself Pasiphae felt a little frisson of pleasure at the warmth in his eyes. The boy looked genuinely pleased to see her. His smile became a trifle more nervous however as he spotted the King alongside her. Ariadne turned on seeing his reaction and smiled in greeting at her father, barely sparing a glance for her stepmother.
"Father," she greeted the King warmly, rising to her feet to receive a kiss. "I did not expect to see you here."
"Evidently," Pasiphae snapped, still a little irritated.
She moved towards her son, picking up the blanket that he appeared to have kicked off at some point as she went. She was vaguely aware of the fact that his friends were quietly exiting the room, heads bowed deferentially as they passed the King.
"I am pleased to see you are recovering," Minos said to Jason seriously. "You worried us all."
Jason looked down at the bed, clearly fighting the urge to bite his lip.
"I am sorry Your Majesty," he apologised softly.
Minos waved away the apology with one hand.
"This whole situation was not your fault," he stated firmly. "Your behaviour in the meeting with Anaxandros was exemplary and I was proud to have you by my side."
Jason flushed and ducked his head even further. Minos smiled softly. It was clearer than ever that the boy was not used to receiving praise.
"That being said," the King continued, "in the future I would expect you to inform someone if you are feeling unwell. I was aware that you were in some discomfort following our ride even though you chose not to speak of it… as was General Dion who rode alongside you. Next time… if there is a next time… tell someone. You would have received assistance sooner if you had."
"Yes My Lord," Jason answered contritely. "I'm fine now though."
Pasiphae snorted loudly.
"Pleased though I am to receive your expert opinion," she said waspishly, "the doctor does not concur. It is true that you are no longer the colour of the sheets… a fact for which I am grateful… and are clearly better than you were, but you are not fine." As she spoke she shook out the blanket and draped it over her son's legs, tucking it around him efficiently with one eyebrow raised daring him to object.
She braced herself for the argument that she expected would inevitably occur knowing what she did of her son's temperament. It was a surprise, therefore, when his head dropped even further and he began to pick miserably at the edge of the blanket. Pasiphae frowned at this unexpected reaction. She gently reached out and placed two fingers under his chin, raising his face so that she could look at him properly. The vulnerability she saw reflected in those hazel eyes when they finally met her own made her heart clench uncomfortably. She had not mean to seem severe; had not meant to take her irritation out on him or drive any sort of wedge between them – even an inadvertent one; knew he was still feeling unwell no matter how good an act he had been trying to put on and would therefore be more vulnerable than usual.
Forgetting the other occupants of the room for the moment she gently brushed Jason's hair back from his forehead with one hand, allowing her face to become softer as she did.
"I did not mean to snap," she said in a much gentler voice. "I am genuinely glad you are feeling better."
She lowered her hand until it was cupping the side of her son's face, deliberately ignoring the little gasp of surprise she heard from her stepdaughter. Let Ariadne think what she liked, the only thing that truly mattered was Jason. She felt her son smile shyly into her hand and returned it with a tender smile of her own. Then Jason turned his head slightly and pressed his lips into her palm; a faint butterfly of a kiss that was gone as quickly as it had arrived. For a moment Pasiphae was too startled to move or even to breathe, unprepared for his open show of affection. This was not something she would have dreamed possible at this point in time. Jason turned shyly away as though embarrassed by his own display of emotion.
"Who is this?" Minos' voice cut through the suddenly charged air like a knife as he pointed at the kitten who was now sitting in the middle of the gaming board.
Pasiphae almost scowled. How dare he interrupt like that? Then she saw the way that Jason relaxed and shot him a grateful look and realised that her somewhat private son had needed the change of subject. She patted the boy's hand gently and half turned towards her husband.
"That is Jason's pet," she answered with a faint hint of disapproval.
Minos looked a little startled. Like his daughter he knew only too well Pasiphae's antipathy to animals within the house. It was true that he had allowed both his children to keep pets when they were very young in the face of his wife's opposition and had subsequently faced her wrath, but neither animal had been replaced when it had passed on. So to hear now that Jason had been permitted to bring an animal into their home was surprising and spoke whole volumes, the King felt, for just how desperate Pasiphae was to build bridges with her son.
"Her name is Isosceles," Ariadne said reaching out to stroke the kitten.
"I let Pythagoras name her," Jason added defensively seeing Minos' raised eyebrows. "With hindsight that may have been a mistake."
"It is a perfectly good name," Ariadne argued, still tickling the purring Isosceles under the chin. "Besides which you seem to shorten it to Isis anyway." She looked critically at the small cat. "I think we will have to postpone our game," she remarked. "She appears most unwilling to allow us to continue."
Jason huffed a laugh.
"It's probably just as well given how badly you were beating me," he said. "Maybe I should teach her to do this every time I'm being beaten."
"That would give you an unfair advantage," Ariadne retorted, her eyes dancing. "Who could resist her? Actually for a beginner you were doing rather well."
Jason smiled at the Princess, trying to hide a shiver as a cold draft caught at him. He was beginning to feel quite cold lying here, which was only to be expected he supposed given the fact that he could not really move around to warm himself up. He didn't really want to make a fuss though; it was one thing to ask his friends to build up the fire a little or pass him an extra blanket but when his companions were the royal family of Atlantis he couldn't bring himself to do it – felt distinctly awkward even at the thought of asking.
He had failed to account for his mother's sharp eyes, however. Pasiphae shot him an exasperated look and moved to the cupboard alongside the fireplace. Reaching inside she withdrew a large fur and shook it out, coming back over to her son and laying it carefully over him, stroking down the soft fibres with one hand as she rang the bell for a servant with the other.
It was Orithyia who answered the bell. Now that Jason thought about it it had been the motherly servant who had come every time he had needed something over the last two days. She had said something yesterday about the Queen instructing her personally to look after his chambers and answer any of his requests but he really hadn't thought about it until now. The idea of having a personally assigned servant made him cringe somehow – although to be honest the idea of anyone waiting on him was more than a little abhorrent.
The servant stepped in through the doorway and bobbed submissively to the Queen. If she was in any way surprised to see the entire royal family in the chambers of the young man she had been asked to attend to she masked it well.
"The fire requires attention," Pasiphae stated imperiously. "See to it." She turned to Jason and her gaze softened. "There is no need for you to be cold in this house," she said.
Jason nodded. His chest was beginning to feel tight again and his head to ache a little – a sure sign that he was growing tired – but he didn't like to suggest that it might be a good idea if everyone left; somehow the thought of asking the King to leave seemed wrong.
Minos and Ariadne had retreated to the far side of the room and were conversing quietly, the King with one loving arm around his daughter's shoulders. Jason turned to watch them for a moment with lazy, peaceful eyes, before allowing his gaze to roam the room, taking in Orithyia banking up the fire before it finally came to rest on the knowing eyes of his mother.
Pasiphae sat herself in the chair that Ariadne had vacated and watched as weariness crept unawares over her son. Unconsciously he raised a hand to massage his temples gently, the skin around his eyes tightening slightly. She frowned. Jason was still a little paler than she would like, although she did have to admit that his colour was much better than it had been.
Before she could speak the servant finished attending to the fire and moved to leave. Jason turned his attention to the woman.
"Thank you Orithyia," he said quietly.
The motherly servant bobbed her head in his direction with a faint smile but left the chamber without a word, prudently deciding that it would be wiser for her not to speak in front of the King and Queen. Pasiphae had to admit to herself that Jason's knowledge of the servant's name startled her a little – although it really should not she supposed; he was not yet used to his current status in life and was likely to fancy that he had some sort of affinity with the servants. She made another mental note to speak to him on the subject as soon as he was better. It would after all be better for all concerned if he learned to keep his distance from those who were socially inferior – his own friends notwithstanding.
Now he winced slightly and tried to cover the action with a smile that did not quite manage to reach his eyes, rubbing his temples once more.
"You are feeling unwell again?" she demanded sharply.
"Not really," Jason answered, his voice low and weary. "My head aches a little bit and my stomach's a bit sore but I think it's mainly because I'm beginning to get a bit tired."
"Then we will leave you to your rest," Minos stated with some concern. "I would hardly like to think that any actions on our parts might hinder your recovery. I do not think anyone will be satisfied until you are back on your feet again."
"You don't have to leave Your Majesty," Jason protested mildly. "I'm not that tired."
His protest would perhaps have worked a little better if he hadn't had to conceal a small yawn behind one hand. Minos smiled wryly and raised one eyebrow.
"Indeed," he said with a hint of mirth in his tone. "I can see just how 'not tired' you are." He came over to the bed and patted his stepson's shoulder warmly. "Sleep well Jason," he said.
"Thank you My Lord," Jason answered with faint embarrassment, looking down at the blankets once more.
A quiet but pointed clearing of the throat made him look up in time to see his mother placing a cup down on the bedside table and imperiously holding out a nightshirt in his direction. Jason took it with a rueful smile, automatically stripping off his tunic and slipping the nightshirt into place over his head without even thinking about it. Then he caught sight of Minos' raised eyebrows and pointed look in Ariadne's direction and flushed with embarrassment.
"Sorry," he muttered. "I didn't think."
Pasiphae tapped his arm gently and gestured towards the cup pointedly. Jason took it with a soft sigh, knowing that it would taste horrible but also knowing better than to complain.
His mother smiled and pushed his hair back from his forehead tenderly.
"It will ease your headache my love," she said softly, her tone mellow and maternal. "Now lie back and rest for a while."
Jason nodded and relaxed back, noting absently that his mother had readjusted the pillows whilst he had been changing his tunic to allow him to lie down in comfort. As he melted back into the mattress he was suddenly very aware of just how tired he had become but was aching a bit too much to sleep yet. As Pasiphae moved away from him Ariadne came forwards and perched on the edge of the bed, risking the wrath of her father as she took his hand.
"Get better soon?" she asked softly.
Jason smiled warmly at her.
"I'll be fine," he promised.
"Good." Ariadne smiled. "Just rest and get well."
As the Princess stood up and risked a look at her frowning father, Pasiphae approached once more. She had a cloth wrapped bundle in her hand – the warming stone from the cupboard that she had placed in the fire to heat through some moments earlier, unnoticed by the other occupants of the chamber. Now she slipped the bundle beneath the covers of the bed, relying on its heat to ease her son's aching stomach muscles. Then she sat down in the chair alongside Jason's bed and picked up a parchment he had discarded on the bedside table, perusing its contents thoughtfully.
Ariadne followed her father to the door of the chamber. As she got there, however, a soft sound reached her ears and she turned, open-mouthed, to stare at her stepmother. Apparently still deeply engrossed in her reading, Pasiphae had begun to croon a soft song to herself. The Princess froze. Never in a million years would she ever have believed that she would hear Pasiphae singing – and yet a memory stirred. She knew this song; had vague recollections of it being sung to her in her earliest childhood when she couldn't sleep. She had always believed that it had been her nurse who had sung to her or sometimes in her most cherished dreams she had imagined it was the mother who she could not remember – although she had always known really that that could not be; that her mother had died bringing her into the world. Now though she was forced to the uncomfortable realisation that it had been none of these people whose voice she had heard; was forced to realise that in fact the voice she had been remembering singing to her with apparent love was her hated stepmother. That realisation shook her somehow.
Ariadne frowned. Pasiphae's face was softer than she was used to seeing it and the lullaby she was singing was sweet and gentle. Jason was watching his mother with heavy lidded eyes and a peaceful smile. The girl felt a sudden irrational surge of jealousy at the fact that her Jason was smiling so sweetly at a woman she had hated for so many years and who she knew despised her in turn. Yet Pasiphae seemed genuine in her care; genuine in her love. Shaken to the core and less certain of many things than she had been just a short time earlier, Ariadne turned and quietly let herself out of the room once more.
Jason slipped out through the side door of the Palace and into the gardens as quickly and silently as he could manage. Once he was out of sight of the door he released the breath that he had been almost unaware of holding and waited as the spots that danced briefly in front of his eyes as a result of the lack of oxygen faded away. He had been half afraid that someone would catch him and make him go back to his chambers. Not that he was really doing anything wrong, he told himself. After all the doctor had announced this morning that he could go outside again in spite of Pasiphae's disgruntlement; had said that he actually thought that short walks in the fresh air would be beneficial for clearing the last of the tightness in Jason's lungs. Admittedly he had added the caveat that the periods spent out of doors should be short for the next few days and that the young man should only go out when the weather was fine and if he was well wrapped up against any breeze, but that was hardly the point. The weather was fine and Jason was well wrapped up in a warm cloak but he knew that both his mother and Hercules would still try to prevent him from going outside if they could.
Actually, getting away into the gardens was something of a necessity as far as Jason was concerned. Over the last few days the only times he had been left alone were when he was sleeping (which was far more often than he was truly happy with). As he had convalesced from the poisoning 'rest time' had been strictly enforced, much to his chagrin. He couldn't really deny the fact that he was tiring incredibly easily at the moment and realised that he did indeed need to rest fairly frequently but he was going to go out of his mind if he couldn't get a little quiet time away from everybody to just think and try to sort his own head out. There was no use trying to convince either Pasiphae or Hercules of that fact, however, and appealing to either Pythagoras or Minos would not produce a successful result. Jason knew that his friends and family (and didn't it feel strange to think that he had a family now?) had been worried but surely Pythagoras and Hercules knew him well enough by now to realise that he needed his own head-space from time to time? Only Ariadne seemed sympathetic to his desire to get away for a little while but there was seemingly little that she could do to help while the twin figures of the Queen and Hercules alternately guarded his door with all the tenacity of a pair of Rottweilers.
This afternoon he had been just too wakeful to rest properly. His strength was rapidly returning and both the dizzy spells and the shortness of breath that had plagued him were rapidly receding. Having been left alone to try to rest he had been struck by the sudden need to get out; to find somewhere to have a think, preferably with a bit of fresh air too. Grabbing the cloak he had found in the trunk at the bottom of the bed (and he would swear that it wasn't in there the other day) he had slipped through the corridors of the Palace and out into the garden as quickly as possible.
Of course he wasn't stupid enough to believe that he would remain undetected for long and in fact had no intention of defying doctor's orders and staying out here for too long anyway, but the day was just too fine to miss by staying indoors. He smiled to himself and trotted down a leafy walkway towards a bench he could just see in an alcove. The enforced confinement that had been a direct result of his encounter with Anaxandros' knife had at least given his knee a much better chance to heal and while it was not quite fully healed yet it was at least much better; the limp in his walk was barely noticeable now – only worsening when he was tired. At least some good had come out of the situation then, he supposed.
With a weary sigh he sat down on the bench and leant forwards, resting his arms loosely on his knees. There was so much to think about; so much that his friends simply couldn't help him with; so much that he would have to sort out in his own head before he could begin to decide what he was going to do and where his future lay. Anaxandros had brought up one decidedly difficult prospect during the meeting the other day when he had suggested, however inadvertently, that Jason might be considered to be heir to Atlantis' throne. Did he really want that? Every inch of him screamed no. That was most definitely Ariadne's place and not his own, yet if he chose a path that involved marriage to the beautiful Princess that could very well be where his future lay. Over the time he had been in the city he had learned what place Atlantian society assigned to women; knew that although Ariadne was heir to the throne at present, any man she married would be declared King and expected to rule on her behalf.
Jason shuddered. The idea of being suffocated by the stultifying atmosphere of the Atlantian court horrified him. Whatever had been denied to him in childhood – however lonely or unwanted he had felt – he had always had his freedom and his independence. Allowing himself to be tethered to the court and the throne felt an awful lot like submitting to living in a cage – a prison – no matter how comfortable the surroundings might be. And what about his friends? What about Pythagoras and Hercules? If he did accept his place in the royal household what would become of them? They would return to their lives and their home in the city, of that he had no doubt. But what then? Would he still be able to see them every day? How could things ever be the same if they were living at home and he was living here? Sooner or later the traditions of the court would prevent him from leaving whenever he liked. Would the day come when the only time he saw the two most important people in his life would be across a crowded square as they listened to a proclamation?
But what if he rejected everything? Turned his back on his new family and walked away? Jason frowned. The King had undoubtedly proved to be remarkably kind during his short stay in the Palace – more so than he would have expected the man to be under the circumstances. Then there was Pasiphae. He was willing to admit that his mother was much more complex than he had ever given her credit for being and he was increasingly finding that he enjoyed her company. There had always been an attraction to the thought of having a mother of his own and now unexpectedly he had everything he had ever wanted. Pasiphae was not the sort of mother he had dreamed of having but already he could feel a bond growing between them. Leaving Ariadne out of the equation for a moment (because he would always want to be near her) could he honestly say that he actually wanted to cut all ties with a family that he was just beginning to become part of? Could he leave them – could he leave his friends – and resign himself to a solitary life once more?
Jason sighed. Even without the thoughts of his future to trouble him he still had to decide what he was going to do about his father as well. Aeson had hurt him – hurt him more than he was willing to admit – and he knew that sooner or later he was going to have to face that; to face the bald fact that for whatever reason his father had chosen to walk away and leave him behind. Did he want to see him? Jason supposed that sooner or later he would have to if he ever wanted to get any of the answers to the mysteries that remained about his past. Whether or not he could ever forgive his father and develop any sort of relationship with the man would depend, he supposed, on what Aeson had to say. Much as he had no desire to see the man at present – had no wish to pick at a wound that was still essentially raw and bleeding – he was going to have to talk to his father if he ever wanted to understand why the man had left… and the truth was that he very much still needed to know. Not yet though. Aeson was a problem that could wait for another day.
"You seem troubled," Ariadne's voice drew him from his thoughts. "What is it?"
Jason looked up to see her approaching and half smiled in greeting.
"I was just… thinking," he answered. "Everything's moved so fast lately I just needed to think."
Ariadne came over and sat down beside him.
"Are you supposed to be out here?" she asked with a smile.
"Not you too," Jason groaned. "The doctor said I could come outside for a little while. He thought that the fresh air would be good for me."
"I am guessing that Pasiphae does not agree," Ariadne responded with an arched eyebrow.
"No," Jason moaned. "She wanted me to rest… but I wasn't all that tired and I needed some time to myself. Wherever I am at the moment there always seem to be other people. I just wanted to get away from them for a bit."
Ariadne looked uncomfortable.
"I am sorry," she said. "I did not mean to disturb you. If you would like to be alone I can leave."
"I didn't mean you," Jason said quickly. "I'm always happy to see you… I mean… you… I… oh hell why do I always turn into a tongue tied fourteen year old when you're around?"
Ariadne couldn't help grinning. She reached out and took his hand in hers.
"I think it's sweet," she said.
"It's pathetic," Jason answered. "It's just that I've never met anyone as perfect as you before."
"There have been no other girls? No-one has ever claimed your heart before?"
"Never anyone like you," Jason answered. "Never anyone serious… I was never very good at relationships of any kind," he confessed. "I was always a bit too quiet for most girls… a bit too odd... the girls where I lived tended to prefer someone a bit flashier… a bit more normal… I think you know how I feel about you and part of me still can't quite believe that you might… like me too."
"For as long as I remember I have been told I am a goddess on earth," Ariadne began. "But the truth is that I'm no different to anyone else. I am not special; not perfect."
"You will always be perfect to me," Jason interrupted, turning to face her and taking both her hands fully in his own. "You could be dressed in a sack and cleaning out the bathhouse drains and you'd still be a goddess as far as I was concerned. Ariadne I love you… and I think that maybe you feel the same way about me."
"You give me your love so freely," Ariadne murmured. "I have never known what it is to be so open… All my life I have lived in fear; fear of what other people think of me; of how they might judge me… but with you I have no reason to be afraid. You have never judged me… only loved me as I am. When I am with you I am no longer afraid of anything. I am stronger when you are with me." She paused for a moment and looked deeply into Jason's eyes. "I love you. I think I have from the moment that we met… and I will not deny it any longer. I cannot imagine a life without you by my side."
"Your father has not given us his permission," Jason pointed out slowly.
"Neither has he denied it though," Ariadne argued. "I know that right now the thought of the future worries you Jason but know that I will be by your side… that I will stand by you no matter what it holds." She paused again. "When I heard the news that Anaxandros had poisoned you I was frightened," she admitted. "I was afraid I was going to lose you and I couldn't bear it."
"You don't need to worry about me," Jason protested.
"I couldn't help myself," Ariadne answered. "I could not bear it if anything happened to you." She looked down at their interlaced fingers. "I know now what it is to love somebody with all my heart."
Jason followed her gaze down to their joined hands. He stayed there for a moment with his head bowed, unable to put his thoughts and feelings into words.
"Say something," Ariadne implored.
Jason still didn't say a word. Instead he looked up at the Princess, his eyes darker than she had ever seen them. Leaning forwards slightly he captured her mouth with his own, drawing her in for a kiss that was both sweet and filled with yearning. After a moment he pulled back, a little out of breath, and raised one slightly trembling hand to her face, stroking his knuckles gently down the side. Then he leant in again for a slightly more chaste peck on her lips, quirking a lopsided smile against her mouth at the little surge of desire that he felt.
"I don't think your father would approve of that," he said breathlessly once he had pulled back once more.
"Indeed not," Ariadne responded with her own naughty smile. "For the time being we must appear as brother and sister to the world. As long as we know how each other feels though that will be enough. While we are safe enough out here we must be careful. There are many eyes in the Palace and I have learned that not all of them are friendly."
"I won't let anything happen to you," Jason murmured, pulling her back to rest against him and wrapping his arms around her. "I give you my word."
"Then nothing can harm me," Ariadne said softly, relaxing against his broad chest.
The moment was broken eventually when Jason gave a sharp cough. The day had grown a little colder and the tightness in his chest returned with the cooling air.
Ariadne sat up and frowned at him.
"Are you alright?" she asked.
"I think maybe I've been out here long enough," Jason answered, his breath catching slightly. "It's colder out here than I thought it was and I was warned not to overdo it."
"I forgot that you are not as well as you should be," Ariadne berated herself. "That you are still convalescing." She raised one hand to trace the faint cut mark at his throat. "We should return indoors where you can get warm."
She pushed herself to her feet and held her hand out to Jason. The young man stood and took it, allowing her to draw him back towards the Palace and feeling the electricity of their connection through their joined palms. There was something rather wonderful, he decided, about walking along the paths of the garden hand in hand with the woman he loved. As soon as they were in sight of the doors they would have to let go of one another once more – would have to revert to the image of a chaste brother and sister – but for now just holding Ariadne's hand was enough.
They were nearly in sight of the doors when the warning bell started to ring. Jason exchanged a quick, worried look with Ariadne and picked up his pace a little, although he did not let go of her hand.
"We should find out what is wrong," Ariadne said.
"Mmm," Jason agreed, mentally kicking himself for being unarmed aside from a small knife attached to his belt. "Listen," he said. "You need to stay behind me."
"Jason," Ariadne began.
Whatever else she was about to say was lost as a door opened ahead of them. Jason automatically tensed for an attack and pushed Ariadne firmly behind him, one hand gripping the hilt of his belt knife firmly.
"Jason." Pythagoras' urgent voice allowed him to relax a little.
The mathematician raced into sight, all sharp angles and flailing elbows as he ran.
"Thank the Gods I've found you," he said breathlessly as he caught up with his friend.
"What's going on?" Jason asked tensely.
"The King has sent people to look for you… for both of you," Pythagoras said with a quick look at Ariadne. "You are wanted in the chamber where you met His Majesty's advisors the other day."
"Why?" Ariadne asked.
"King Anaxandros sent an emissary to the King a short while ago. I do not know what was said but the Amphigeneians have broken the truce. We are under attack."