A/N Thank you all for the lovely reviews. They really do make my day!
Please let me know what you think this time too...
Pasiphae stood in the window of her chambers looking out across the peaceful courtyard below. Everything was still and silent. Even the night birds seemed to have gone to bed in this the deepest part of the night and the Queen could almost believe that time itself had stood still. The full moon shone down across Palace and bathed Pasiphae's upturned face in its pale light. She took a deep breath of cool air, relishing the cold, fresh feeling in her lungs. The nights were definitely beginning to turn colder, she noted almost clinically, and the days would not be far behind. Winter was rapidly approaching and the violent storm that had blown in almost a week earlier was a harbinger of things to come.
Pasiphae pulled her shawl a little tighter around her shoulders. The silver shot silk nightdress that she customarily wore in bed was beautiful but did little to keep out the chill and soon she would need to wear sandals even in her own chambers to stop the cold that rose up from the tiled floor from permeating her bones.
The Queen gazed up at the moon as her thoughts wandered. As a practitioner of the magic arts – of witchcraft – her primary allegiance should be to Hecate, and yet somehow she felt a natural affinity with Selene, the goddess of the moon. It was perhaps the last remnant of the young girl who had arrived in Atlantis all those years ago to be married to the then crown prince, Aeson. And she had been so very young – almost innocent – and certainly not the powerful political animal she had become. Theirs had been an arranged marriage – as the marriages in the upper echelons of society always were – and she had not actually met her husband to be before her wedding day. At least Ariadne would be spared that if Pasiphae's plans came to fruition – although why she should care about her step-daughter's feelings she did not know. Still she had tried to be a mother to the girl once upon a time; had tried to use her to replace her own lost son and assuage her grief. It had not worked and as Ariadne had grown so had their mutual distrust and dislike, until it turned to anger and hatred; bordering at times on all-out war.
Aeson had been kind and gentle at first (this was after all long before she had declared war upon him) and had clearly been besotted by his new bride. Pasiphae, however, had felt nothing although she had tried hard to be a good wife at first. The love she had been assured would grow between herself and her husband had never developed on her part and she had found herself trapped and powerless in a loveless marriage to a man who she grew to despise more with every passing year. At first she had been convinced that the lack of feeling for her husband was directly linked to her grief over her father's recent death (she had been completely honest in what she had told Ariadne all those weeks ago even if the girl had chosen not to believe her). Eventually though, as the weeks had turned into months and the months into years and the recriminations over her lack of ability to produce an heir had grown, she had come to accept that she would never feel for Aeson what he felt for her. She had searched for something to fill her empty life and heart, and had discovered power – pure, ultimate power. Aeson had proved easy to charm – easy to deceive – but less easy to manipulate. Raised to be King he had been unwilling to share his power with his beautiful and dangerous young wife.
Would things have turned out differently if he had, Pasiphae wondered as she padded across to her dressing table and sat down, beginning the task of brushing her long and still lustrous hair almost absently. Probably not, she decided. The more power she gained the more she had craved until nothing would satisfy her but to rule – to rule in her own right would be preferable but to rule through a weak, puppet King would give some measure of satisfaction. She had found that man in Minos. Weak but with a burning desire for power he had been perfect for her needs. He was married but that would not prove too much of a problem – his delicate wife could easily be disposed of. As it had turned out, however, the woman had obligingly died in childbirth while bringing her daughter into the world not long after the coup that had deposed Aeson, thereby removing the need for Pasiphae to act against her. As for the rest? Well... Aeson was not nearly as universally loved as he wished to believe. There were always disillusioned and disaffected men ready to rise up in rebellion if you knew where to look.
The only dark spot had been her sudden pregnancy – unexpected after several years of barrenness. Aeson had been beside himself with joy and, along with the members of the court, had showered the Queen with gifts. Pasiphae had been seething, fearing that her grip on power was slipping evermore as her waistline expanded. Once more she was relegated from the capable and intelligent Queen to little more than a brood mare; her desires and whims no longer important as the needs of the baby growing within her belly took precedence with all of those around her. It was as though now, with her ultimate duty nearly fulfilled, she was expected to fade into the background; to content herself with a half-life lived in the shadows; to only wish to be a mother to one or more snivelling children. How she had hated the babe – the thing. Had hated the interloper whose presence she felt more with each passing day. Had imagined it growing within her, a shrivelled, twisted thing; a tumour that she longed to cut out.
When he had been born after so many long hours of agony and exhaustion, she had turned her face away. Let others look after the brat; coo over him. She had heard and ignored the exultations of the midwives, bubbling over with joy at the birth of a healthy male heir. What did she care that he had his father's dark hair? That he seemed strong and healthy? This child – this thing – had come to rob her of her power and identity, and she hated him for it.
Then the head midwife, bolder than the rest and believing the Queen to simply be tired, had placed the squalling bundle ("good strong lungs" they had congratulated each other) into her arms. The baby had quieted instantly, his affronted new-born wail trailing off as he looked up trustingly and sleepily at his mother, and Pasiphae had been forced to face her son for the first time.
He had been such a beautiful baby. Pasiphae didn't know why it should surprise her so much even looking back after all these years. After all his father had been a handsome man and she had been regarded as a beauty in her youth – was still described with words such as "elegant", "regal" and "attractive". The instant she had looked into that tiny face, Pasiphae had been captivated. And when he had wrapped one of his tiny, perfect hands around her finger (why did everyone remark on the size and perfection of a baby's hands? What were they expecting? Lobster claws?) she had been utterly lost. For the first time in years the emptiness in her heart had been filled by something other than the thirst for power and the Queen of Atlantis had felt love.
By the time Aeson had arrived, noble and beneficent and every inch the King, she had decided upon a name – Jason. The perfect name for her perfect child, his name signifying everything she felt he could become to her; her healer; her cure. It was Aeson's right to name his son seven days after birth of course (and to change his mind about that name at any time afterwards) in keeping with tradition, but he had been so besotted with the child and so grateful to her for giving him a perfect heir that he had been benevolent; had been willing to agree to anything she wanted. He didn't love her in the same way he had when they were first married, but he had to admit that his wife was beautiful, and right now she was radiant. For a moment he was as besotted with her as he was with his son, and watching her husband cradling her son Pasiphae had felt a surge of affection towards the man.
It hadn't lasted of course and now, here in her chambers, Pasiphae wondered how anyone had ever thought it could. All the wasted years crept up on her again and she once more found herself cursing Aeson's name; wishing that she had done something far worse than simply give him leprosy. She had a grown son she did not know thanks to him – although she believed she knew Jason a little better than she had thanks to Ariadne. The girl had proved remarkably forthcoming with information about the young man she loved. Part of Pasiphae marvelled at the Princess' generosity in this, while the other part – the hard, cynical part – wondered what Ariadne would want in return. It was almost as though the girl had been longing to talk to someone about Jason and with a start Pasiphae realised that she probably had. The death of Korinna had robbed Ariadne of her only real confidante and Ione had never really managed to take the dead girl's place. Ione's betrayal had further isolated Ariadne, leaving her lonely. The chance to talk about her beloved Jason had tempted the girl and had proved too much to resist, and she had found herself telling her hated step-mother things she had never intended to confess. Pasiphae had drunk in all the information eagerly, longing to know the young man her beloved baby had grown into a little better. While the relationship between the two women was still far from cordial, the common ground they had found was allowing them to co-operate.
Pasiphae smiled softly, pausing with the brush poised above her hair. She still could not really stand the insufferable brat, but it would be far better if Ariadne did not actively oppose her plans both for Jason and the future.
She sighed, suddenly. Jason. Everything kept coming back to Jason. Where exactly was the lad right now? Her sources told her he had left his friend's house (she still could not bring herself to think of such a hovel as being her son's home) on the night of the storm, some six nights ago, looking extremely upset and he had not been seen since. He had certainly not returned to the house and to all intents and purposes seemed to have disappeared off the face of the planet. Perhaps he had left Atlantis? Pasiphae's heart constricted at the thought of losing her son again. Not that she could openly acknowledge him of course but she could at least see him and know he was well. His two friends had not been at home for the last few days either and before that the clever one had been seen wandering around the streets looking pale and tired with a permanent expression of worry on his face. Both Jason's regular companions had been seen in the city as lately as today, however, but neither of them seemed to be in her son's company. Pasiphae was growing increasingly worried and had sent out extra spies to seek news of the young man. She had even looked out for him at Alektryon's execution – not that she had really expected him to be there in her heart of hearts. Jason did not seem to possess that sort of vindictiveness in any way and Ariadne had informed her that he was not happy with any form of capital punishment. Still she herself had been only too pleased to see the man who had tried to hurt her son in such a horrible way disposed of. She had not taken that much pleasure in an execution since the guard who had claimed to have killed her child more than twenty years previously.
She sighed again. This would never do. Sitting up into the night worrying about Jason would not help anyone and would only cause her to be overly tired in the morning. That in turn could lead her enemies to speculate as to the reason for her tiredness and worry. She could not risk her secret being found out so soon or in that way; could not risk harm coming to Jason. No, it would be far better to get a good night's sleep and question her spies again in the morning. Someone somewhere must know where the lad was. Pasiphae put down the hairbrush and moved to the bed, slipping in under the heavy covers and allowing herself to drop into a deep and dreamless sleep.
Hercules was pacing. Meriones had long since worked out the number of steps that it took his old friend to march to one end of the room, turn and come back, before beginning the circuit all over again. The huge merchant looked up from the document he was struggling to read in the dim lamplight with a frown. Once it had become apparent that the two boys were not just in the street outside the house and that the two older men might have some time to wait for their return, Meriones had fetched some work to be getting on with. He had tried at first to distract Hercules with a game of dice but that had proved fruitless and so had decided to look over some of the plans he had for the distribution of Onias' perfumes. If he had to stay up all night then it seemed practical to make use of the time – although he was working with a flagon of wine at his elbow. Hercules' relentless pacing, however, was making it awfully hard to concentrate, so Meriones looked up with a glower, fully intending to make the burly wrestler sit down and keep quiet.
One look at Hercules and he changed his mind. Clearly the man was about to fly apart with worry. Earlier he had sat at the table to wait for his younger friends but by now he was so worked up that sitting still did not seem to be an option and he looked like he was almost ready to fly out of the door to search for the young men.
"Where are they?" he growled for the umpteenth time.
"My friend I am sure that they are alright," Meriones tried to reassure him. "They are both fully grown men and are more than capable of looking after themselves."
Hercules stared at him incredulously.
"Look after themselves?" he repeated. "Pythagoras trips over his own feet if you so much as look at him and Jason could find trouble in an empty house. I'll grant you that he's not normally too bad at getting out of it but he's hardly thinking clearly at the moment… and neither one of them is armed."
"You are worrying too much," Meriones ventured soothingly. "There is no reason to believe that they are in any trouble."
"Oh they're in trouble alright," Hercules growled darkly. "I'll teach them both not to worry me like this."
Meriones struggled not to laugh in the face of his friend's peeved comment. Where the two younger men were concerned the burly wrestler was like a mother bear whose cubs were threatened. It was almost amusing to see feckless, irresponsible Hercules – a man who had spent his life pleasing himself and trying to avoid responsibility – acting almost as Meriones imagined a father would. The boys certainly brought out the best in his old friend, he mused.
Of course he was fairly worried himself no matter what he had tried to convince Hercules to the contrary. The simple truth was that Pythagoras was singularly appalling at self-defence – was completely and utterly useless with any sort of weapon and in fact was more likely to cut himself if you gave him a sword than to stab an adversary – and Jason's somewhat vulnerable mental state meant that, while he could usually be counted on to protect Pythagoras no matter what, it was unclear whether he would even recognise a threat at the moment. Still, one of them needed to remain composed and rational and, as Hercules seemed incapable of that, it fell to him to hide his worries and attempt to keep his old friend calm.
"Hercules, sit down," he advised firmly.
"We should go and find them," Hercules muttered, completely ignoring Meriones' advice.
"And where do you propose we start? Do you somehow have more knowledge than I about their whereabouts? If so then perhaps you should tell me."
Hercules gazed as his huge friend helplessly.
"Old friend I am as concerned as you are," Meriones continued, "but without knowing where Pythagoras and Jason have gone, there is little we can do other than wait. It would be no good at all for us to race off into the night only to have either one of the boys return here needing our help and for neither of us to be here."
Hercules grunted and stomped over to the table, throwing himself down onto the bench with an audible thud and reaching for the wine flagon. He was anxious and angry, afraid of what might happen to his boys on the streets at night if they had no real protection, conflicted about how to approach Jason with his suspicions and beliefs about what had happened to the lad, and unsure of what else he could do to put his little family back together and back to normal. All in all he needed a drink. Seeing all this, and without needing to be asked, Meriones poured a cup out for his old friend – which Hercules took more than gratefully.
A soft noise from the stairway leading to the street made both men look up expectantly. The noise grew louder – scuffing feet and a voice, quiet in deference to the late hour but light and full of laughter. Then the door was quietly pushed open and the two boys tiptoed into the room, clearly trying to make as little noise as possible, Pythagoras' arm slung lightly around Jason's shoulders. Both young men were smiling and relaxed – if a little out of breath – and damp sand clung to the folds of the cloaks they both wore and to the back of their trousers. Meriones narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. He had a feeling that he now knew where the lads had been but it seemed strange that they would have chosen to go out of the city so late at night – especially with all the dangers that could have been lurking on the coastal path. He turned to look at his old friend, trying to gauge Hercules' reaction to the two boys' appearances. In spite of his obvious ire at them for wandering off so late at night and making him worry so much, Hercules looked pleased. Meriones hid a smile behind his hand. The bulky wrestler's bark had always been worse than his bite and seeing his surrogate sons happy was clearly making him happy in turn. It was equally clear, however, that he still intended to give them a piece of his mind – a sentiment that Meriones whole heartedly agreed with.
As the boys crept further into the room Pythagoras glanced around. The double-take he did when he noticed Hercules and Meriones sitting at the table, both with their arms folded and eyebrows raised, with identical expressions on their faces, was comical. He yelped and jumped back into Jason, who caught the mathematician's arms to steady him and prevent him from falling.
"Did you have a nice walk?" Hercules asked deceptively calmly.
Pythagoras gulped.
"Er… well… that is… erm… yes… well," he stuttered.
Hercules gave him a long hard look.
Pythagoras gulped again.
"We… erm… that is… Jason woke me up," he babbled, trying to explain. "He wanted to go out for a walk and I did not think I should let him go alone, so I went with him."
"And you didn't think that maybe it would have been a better idea to wait until morning?" Hercules asked. "Or at least leave a note to tell me where you had gone?"
"Jason seemed so keen and I thought he might go on his own if I did not go with him," Pythagoras said. "I did not think that we would be gone long and I thought that you were asleep. I wasn't entirely sure exactly where we were going but I did not think it would be too far."
Hercules glared.
"And it never occurred to you that it might be dangerous for the pair of you to be out so late at night or that I might wake up and find you were gone and be worried?" Hercules growled loudly, his voice beginning to rise. "I thought you were supposed to be the clever one!"
He was reserving most of his ire for Pythagoras partly because he felt that the young genius really should have known better and partly, it had to be said, because the last argument he had had with Jason had had such a disastrous effect. He was uncertain under the circumstances whether Jason was actually emotionally strong enough to take a scolding at the moment and did not want to risk the young man becoming overwhelmed and retreating back into the detached and withdrawn state they had all been working so hard to coax him out of.
He was somewhat surprised, therefore, to find Jason stepping between himself and the young mathematician protectively, eyes flashing fire. The young man gestured to himself and his blonde friend, before holding one hand a couple of feet from the floor and shaking his head vigorously.
"I know you aren't children," Hercules answered, "but you certainly both act enough like it at times." He paused and breathed deeply, trying to retain some grip on his temper. "Where did you go anyway?"
Pythagoras shifted awkwardly and looked at his feet, knowing that Hercules would be distinctly unhappy with the fact that they had been outside the city. As he fidgeted some sand dropped from the folds of his cloak to land in a dusty heap around his feet. Hercules stared at the pile for a moment before jerking his eyes up to look incredulously at the young man. He knew of nowhere within Atlantis itself that Pythagoras could have got that much sand on his clothing, which left just one possibility.
"You've been to the beach?" he asked disbelievingly. He stood up abruptly and stalked away from the table muttering curse words as he paced.
"Hercules," Pythagoras began in a conciliatory tone – knowing that he would have to ride out the storm of his old friend's anger but wanting to spare Jason from the backlash as much as he could by keeping Hercules' attention on himself.
Hercules turned back towards them.
"Sit down," he ordered. "We need to talk."
"Hercules," Pythagoras tried again, even as he and Jason sat down at the table almost automatically.
"When I said we needed to talk what I actually meant was that I am going to talk and you are both going to listen," Hercules growled.
Pythagoras wisely held his tongue this time. He knew from experience that now was not the moment to upset Hercules even further – in the past it had resulted in him being dangled head first from the balcony.
"I cannot understand what you were thinking in going out, and to leave the city was even greater foolishness. Still at least you made sure that you had protection," the big man continued sarcastically. "Oh that's right you didn't. You didn't even take his sword with you," he gesticulated towards Jason.
"At least they have returned unharmed," Meriones rumbled placatingly, attempting to appease Hercules' temper before his old friend said something that he might later regret.
"That is beside the point," Hercules groused testily. "The coastal path is treacherous in the dark. What would have happened if one of them had fallen?"
Pythagoras chose to stay silent, deciding that it was better if Hercules did not know just how close that had come to happening – there had been several occasions both on the journey to and from the beach when the only thing that had kept him from falling from the rocky edge of the path down into the water below was Jason's lightning quick reflexes and firm grasp.
"And once you get out among the dunes there are scorpions and all sorts," Hercules continued, "and you know they're more active at night. In the dark you wouldn't have seen them until it was too late."
Pythagoras blinked, feeling increasingly guilty. He had never even thought of the wild creatures that could have attacked them in the dark once they were away from the city – at the time the biggest dangers had seemed to him to lurk in the city streets.
"It's cold tonight too," Hercules said. "I suppose that at least you took cloaks to keep warm but aside from that neither of you are exactly dressed to keep out the chill."
He paused and drew a deep, shuddering breath before plunging on with what he wanted to say.
"What if you had been attacked tonight?" he said. "What if there had been someone else like Alektryon lurking in the darkness? Do you really think he's in any fit state to fight someone like that off?" He gestured towards Jason.
Pythagoras looked stricken. Of all the things he had imagined when they were out in the streets, it had never occurred to him that there might be someone else like Alektryon out there. The worst he had thought there might be lurking in the darkness was a robber or a guard patrol. He mentally berated himself for not thinking of that possibility. Hercules was right. He had exposed both himself and Jason to unreasonable risk because he had not considered the full consequences of giving in to the brunette's desires. He shuddered as he thought of what might have happened.
Hercules watched him for a moment, seeing the play of emotions across the young face, before turning towards his other young companion. Jason looked back at him emotionlessly, eyes knowing. Hercules winced. Jason, it appeared, had known exactly what sort of horrors might be awaiting him in the darkness (and that told his older friend plenty in itself) but had been too desperate to get outside to care. Suddenly the big man felt very tired and very old.
"I'm too fond of you both to want to see either one of you come to harm," Hercules muttered thickly. "You have no idea what it was like to find your beds empty tonight. You have no idea how worried I was…" he broke off, unable to continue.
Pythagoras was on his feet in an instant.
"I am sorry," he murmured. "I did not think. I would never want to worry you like this."
He made his way over to his big friend and threw his arms around the man, deeply upset at the thought that he had caused his friend any distress. Hercules returned the hug wholeheartedly before a noise made him turn, still keeping one arm around the mathematician, to see Jason approach from the other side. The dark haired lad looked at him apologetically, silently asking for permission to join in. Hercules gave a soft half-smile and opened his free arm expansively. Jason didn't hesitate any further and threw his arms around the burly wrestler too. Hercules for his part wrapped his free arm around the lad's shoulders and stood still, one boy burrowed in to his side on each side. He looked up to see Meriones watching him with a smile which he returned with a nod. His boys were with him and they were both unharmed. All was once again alright with the world.
The last five days had been strange, Pythagoras thought with a sigh as he stretched and prepared to get out of bed. There were times when everything seemed almost normal. And yet nothing was actually normal. They were still (to all intents and purposes) living in Meriones' house and Jason was still not speaking to them – was still not making any conscious sounds. It had been a week and a half now and his friends were beginning to get deeply concerned about the young man's lack of verbalisation given that in all other respects he seemed to be getting back to normal. Still, they had fallen easily into a routine. They rose each day to have breakfast together, after which Meriones would go to the tavern to keep an eye on his business dealings while the other three went about their everyday tasks around the house. Sometimes Hercules would wander out to the tavern, and sometimes Pythagoras would get out his work and start studying triangles, while Jason watched the world go by from his favourite window seat. Other times they would wander down to Meriones' bathhouse. More often, though, one or the other of them would look up to find that the brunette had wandered out into Meriones' little courtyard garden, usually with the kitten in tow, and could be found lying on one of the benches, watching the clouds go by – though what he saw when he looked at them neither Hercules nor Pythagoras could guess – or dangling one hand languidly into the central sunken pool watching the ripples created in the water, or playing with Isosceles. Then, after a light dinner, and after Meriones had returned Hercules would take Pythagoras out for a few hours, returning in time for supper. Later on in the night, the two boys would wander off for a walk after the sun had gone down and the streets had largely become deserted – although they now went with Hercules in tow. Neither of them wanted to risk upsetting the big man again the way they had five nights ago with their impromptu visit to the beach. Once they were back at Meriones' house the giant would usually persuade Jason to drink whatever sleeping draught Pythagoras had concocted (he had become noticeably better at dealing with the headstrong side of Jason over the last few days) and one by one they would drift off to bed.
It was interesting, Pythagoras mused, but since returning from that trip to the beach Jason had contented himself with wandering about the streets of the city – never venturing as far as he had that first night. They had visited the Temple (although they had not gone in) and the exterior of the Palace, the city walls and the agora. Then last night Jason had finally decided to go home. It had not been something his friends had expected him to do. But then when did Jason ever do the expected, Pythagoras wondered. They had been caught out last night by the fact that it was a curfew night – something that none of them had remembered – and had had to run from a patrol. Dashing through the streets to get away and hiding in various doorways it had felt like old times. So much so that neither Hercules nor Pythagoras had noticed the direction they were heading in once they had evaded the patrol until they were at the door to their own house. As it was Jason had seemed so relaxed and confident that the other two had just looked at each other and shrugged, before following him in. It had been strange to find that their home felt so empty. They had all been away from it before for days at a time of course, but somehow this time felt different. Pythagoras had taken the opportunity to gather up some scrolls he had left behind when they had left the other day, shoving them into the bag that Jason usually used when they went on journeys, surmising that his friend would not mind too much, while Hercules had raided the cupboards in search of a late night snack and a drink, grunting the occasional curse when he discovered another empty wine skin. Jason had wandered over to his bed and disappeared under it (much to Pythagoras' concern as he knew his friend's propensity for simply shoving things out of sight under there whether they were sharp or not), coming back out covered in dust but with something in his hands that he quickly bundled up in the cleaning rag that he usually used for his sword and wandering over to drop it into the open bag that Pythagoras had collected his scrolls in. Pythagoras' curiosity was instantly piqued but he stifled it manfully and went back to searching his room for stray bits of forgotten mathematical equipment. It had been truly unnerving both how normal and how unnatural it felt to see Jason puttering around their home. Pythagoras put it down to his friend's complete silence. Usually Jason would make some noise, even at times when he was being quiet, and Pythagoras had even begun to recognise some of the tunes he often hummed under his breath (even if the mathematician could not actually give a name to any of them) and to recognise the sort of mood his friend was in based on the tune. Eventually Jason had drifted out onto the balcony and had sat down with his back to a pillar, gazing up at the stars. Hercules had joined him out there, drink in hand and for a short while everything had seemed wonderfully normal. Of course they had made their way back to Meriones' house in the end but Pythagoras had been more than encouraged by the turn of events. The evening had ended with Jason managing to slip off to bed before Meriones had a chance to give him any sort of sedative – the first time in a few days that he had managed to outwit the huge man. Meriones had followed him into his room but had come back out presently with the full cup still in his hand, to report that he had found Jason sprawled contentedly on the bed, fast asleep with Isosceles already in her customary place on top of him. Meriones had felt that it would rather defeat the object to wake the lad up in order to give him a sleeping draught so he had bid his friends goodnight and retired to his own chambers.
Now it was morning and Pythagoras had woken up refreshed. He wondered how well his friend had slept, however, given Jason's propensity towards insomnia. Well he wasn't going to find out by spending all day in bed. He stretched again, yawning and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He slowly stood up and ran a practiced hand through his hair, trying to tame the fluffy curls without the use of a comb or mirror. Not that these things were unavailable in the room that Meriones had lent him of course – it was more that Pythagoras could not actually be bothered to cross the room to do it properly. He tied his belt around his waist, slipped his feet into his sandals and tied the laces and prepared to face the day.
He found Meriones already up and around and sitting at the kitchen table, trying to work through the same document that he had been studying last night. Over the past few days Pythagoras had come to realise that the enormous man's eyesight was not as good as it had perhaps once been and he found reading small handwriting a chore. He sighed wishing there was something that he could do to help the giant who had been so kind to them – but particularly to Jason. As it was though the young man, despite his studies in medicine (a subject which he found interesting – if not quite so interesting as triangles), knew of no way to counteract the weakening of the eyes that seemed to come as the years passed. Meriones looked up and smiled.
"Good morning my friend," he said brightly. "I was wondering whether you all intended to sleep all day. I have been up for several hours now and was beginning to feel lonely." His smile grew to show that he was only joking and his eyes sparkled with mirth.
Before Pythagoras could respond another door opened and Jason wandered out to join them. The brunette lad looked well rested for once, much to his blonde friend's relief, and smiled in greeting.
"Ah," Meriones said. "Now we are only waiting for Hercules. Should we go ahead and start breakfast without him?"
"Without who?" Hercules rumbled, coming over to the table. Pythagoras jumped slightly, not having heard the big wrestler come in.
"Did you sleep well?" Hercules added looking at Pythagoras.
"Very," the mathematician answered, turning away to start gathering things for breakfast.
"How about you?" Hercules asked.
"Yes. Thanks." The voice that came from somewhere behind Pythagoras was quiet, barely above a whisper. It was also unmistakably Jason's.