Twenty: Education

Narcissus

Well, that could have gone worse.

One by one, I called each of them in. By the time I was halfway through, they already knew what was coming. Some were as wary as Eliana was, others were grateful beyond words. The latter half – the bolder half, hence why I put them off for so long – started trying to bargain with me. It took a whole lot of self-control to keep from losing my temper, and a whole lot of skill to get things going my way again, but it's done.

Everything is far from resolved though.

I'm lucky – fine, blessed – to have the luxury of calling in a couple of loans from associates who still owe me favours. I'd be highly surprised if news of my recent condition has spread as far as Boeotia, which puts me at an advantage in one respect at least. That should tide things over until I get the household back on its feet – better add letter writing to the list of chores. Its all going to be meetings and restructuring from tomorrow onwards. Haven't had to work this hard since I was eighteen, and even then Mel was doing most of the heavy lifting. Wealth. Business. Reputation. A moment to destroy, a fucking lifetime to reassemble.

Ugh, I could spear myself for being so stupid.

There are two piles of contracts, a small one and a big one. Only a handful of the former slaves could sign their name. The rest either didn't know how, or didn't want to sign their souls away just yet. Jua's words not mine.

Boy, being treated like just a regular arsehole as opposed to a stunningly gorgeous one is a whole new experience.

My seal sits on the table, not so shiny and pretty as the day I commissioned it, but still functional. That reminds, me, I still need to locate my signet ring. The only place I think it could be is at the lakeside, which I am in no hurry to get back to. The last thing I stamped at this desk, the invoice for Eubalus to come fix a certain boy's dislocated joints, peeks out from underneath the latest documents. Not that there was much need for it, I simply needed evidence it had happened; Eubalus has more than once offered his services for no price – unless you count the pure pleasure of being in my company as fair currency.

No wonder Icarus was so suspicious when we first met. I'm sure he was never used to seeing such excessive displays of affection.

Hm. Tonight might be the only time I get to talk to him properly for the next month or so. Might as well fill him in on the situation, I need to check on him anyway. He seemed… disconcerted when we met this morning.

I breeze past the doorway to his room, but he isn't there. I pause, survey the scene. He really doesn't know how to keep house. Clothes everywhere – I narrowly miss stepping on a chiton pin. He's been bringing food in here – there's a tinge of feta whiff on the air and crumbs on the mattress. Should probably house train him at some point or we'll get mice.

So, he isn't in his room. That's strange, apparently he's been spending a lot of time there lately. Well, technically it isn't his room, it's one of the many spare rooms for guests – not that I think I'll be having any over anytime soon. Nor do I think he'll be leaving anytime soon.

'Slave quarters.'

'Huh?' I turn to the sla- to Eliana, her head peeking out from the gynaeceum.

'That's where he is if you are looking for him. Aias invited him over, they wanted to get to know him better.'

'I see.'

'I was about to head there myself.'

The implicit invitation is not quite as clear as I'm used to, but when she gestures with her head for me to follow, I'm certain. We walk side by side to the outer courtyard, pausing by the kitchen as she offers me something to eat. I decline. She carries on. Not insisting like she normally would to drop everything and fix me a grand meal – no, those days are over. She remains cool and civil – polite, and calmer than this morning, the air of both sarcasm and disbelief having evaporated from her countenance.

'They… wanted to get to know him better?' I ask, looking for something to break the silence.

'Yes. Ever since he came he's been a bit of a recluse. Neither here nor there – no one knows how to treat him.'

My brow creases, taking all of this in. She speaks so frankly to me now – it's refreshing. So much less dull than the simpering maid that used to keep me company.

'At first, we thought he was your guest and treated him accordingly – served him, then left him alone,' she continues.

'Then some new information about his… family line… surfaced. I'll admit I was at fault there, telling them such delicate things. But people get intrigued, curious. You never told us explicitly after all, who exactly Icarus is.'

New information? Delicate things? What exactly has been going on behind our backs? Nothing to panic over I'm sure, I've got much worse to deal with, but the idea of someone gossiping unjustly about possibly the most innocent person on Gaia's earth leaves a sour taste in my mouth.

'I've said it before, and I'll say it again.' I try not to spit my words, like I once would have,

'That is not my story to tell.'

'So you've said. Still, it would be nice to get a heads up about these sorts of affairs.'

'Trust me, it was as much a surprise to me as to you.' I murmur placidly. Before she can question the statement further, we've passed through the back gate into the slave quarters: an open woodland space, with two rows of huts spaced a stade or so apart from each other on either side of me. I never made it a habit to visit here often – Desme was always in charge of making sure everything was in order. I know it is customary for most domestic slaves to stay within the main house, but what can I say? I like my privacy.

I begin walking towards a light that looks like a fire amongst the dwellings on my left, when Eliana splits off from me. I change track to follow her. She pauses.

'No, you were going in the right direction. Men's quarters that way, I'm going to the women's.'

'Right, ah, I see. Thank you.'

I'm fairly sure she rolls her eyes in the dim sunset light before marching away. I swivel back around in the right direction, and begin to trudge towards the gathering.

'-the only one without a contract?'

'He didn't see me today, no.'

Voices. Just around the other side of this building. There's a fire in the pit, I can hear it crackling and see its light and smell its burning and feel its heat – ugh, after pretty much spending a week as a… plant, human sensory overload is still the occupational hazard.

'Maybe it's because he knows you hate him.'

I pause. Something tells me walking in on them now would be less than a good idea.

'Jua still got a position, and he's worse than me!'

'Hey, you are welcome to it. If this freedom offer is genuine, I will probably take my chances elsewhere.'

'Not sure he would allow that.'

Dammit, I knew I missed people. Note to self, double check the list and follow up any strays in the morning. Whether they despise me or not, I need staff, and these are as good as I'm going to get.

'It's not as if it is actual freedom anyway. More like indentured servitude with perks.'

'As if Narcissus would give us any better.'

'Why do you guys hate him so much? It's not as if he's that bad.'

Icarus. His voice sticks out like a sore thumb, still unbroken and naïve.

'Haha, you would say that, wouldn't you? No offence Icarus, but I bet you've never had to work a day in your life.'

'….I wouldn't say that…'

'Oh? Then you had a job before you came here?'

'Not exactly – '

'Hmm. Is that not strange for the son of a - '

'Shut it, Jua. Ana told us not to mention it.'

'Hahaha, I knew it. Aias, you owe me two obol-'

'He never said explicitly that's what he does.'

'Oh, but it is written all over his face. The boy comes here, evidently beaten around, so you know he has seen shit. Yet he has never had to do a hard day's labour in his life? It is obvious what he is–'

'How would you know what I am? You don't know what you're talking about.'

'If we do not know what we are talking about, why don't you correct us then? What is the truth?'

'I… I…'

'That is what I thought. Easy for a young boy, uses his charms so even the master will fall for him. That is why you are still here? You and Narcissus make a deal? He takes care of you and you take care of – '

He doesn't get the chance to finish his damned sentence before my hands are clasped around his throat. Shouts go up around the fire, but they barely register. The man called Jua is up against the wall, I feel him struggle to take in air underneath my fingers. My arms should be weak, tired, malnourished, yet I feel nothing but strength, furiously coursing through my veins. He struggles like a wild rabbit, legs kicking. I wonder if he kills as easily.

'Stop!'

Bodies around me are frozen, but there is one, one which moves to me, one which grabs my arm, nails digging into skin –

'Please stop!'

He sticks out like a sore thumb.

'Narcissus!'

'…Yes?'

The response rolls off my tongue coolly. The smile that graces my lips might seem twisted in a scenario like this, but it's funny. It's funny how this boy pulls at my arms, knowing he hasn't got nearly enough strength to stop me from breaking this bastard's neck, but still doing it anyway. Pulling and pulling, begging for the life of someone who would insult him so deeply. He's something else he is. Someone so childlike, yet wise beyond years… that is the contradiction that is Icarus.

The ex-slave falls to the ground. My fingers are cramped, I crack my knuckles to relieve it. Words flow out of my mouth in a breathless hiss,

'Say what you like about me. I welcome it, I'm an absolute bastard. But this boy, who has been to hades and back, does not deserve your scorn or derision. Never.'

The man looks up at me, hate in his eyes I'm sure, but the fear is greater. Good.

My eyeline lifts to sweep the clearing.

'If I hear one word out of any of your mouths which so much as hints at what this man has just said, I will revoke every single benefit I have just bestowed upon you, and cast you out into the streets as food for the dogs.'

There is silence. Even the bold ones are silent. Good.

I straighten up. Clear my throat.

'Aias.'

A figure half hidden behind the fire jumps at the sound of his name.

'Y-yes, master?'

'You will see me in the morning. I seem to have neglected your contract. And please,'

I flash a smile which once charmed the world, but right now leaves everyone who sees it blatantly disturbed,

'Just call me Narcissus.'

I turn away from the scene. I half expect to be jumped from behind and murdered brutally, but still, no one moves. My hand automatically reaches out to take Icarus' shoulder, guide him to somewhere away from here. He shrugs me off. He stares at the ground, not looking me in the eye.

I won't pretend that didn't hurt, because it did.

I don't try to hold him again. After a pause, he follows after me anyway, evidently deciding that it would be best if he got out of that pit of ingrates as fast as possible. Near killing one of their friends in Icarus' name can't have done him any favours. I've probably made things ten times worse for him.

I could spear myself, I feel so stupid.

Icarus

'Are you okay?'

It's the sixth time he's asked that. I think. It could be the seventh. I haven't really been counting.

'I'm fine.' I finally speak, words quiet and barely making it out of my throat. I hear him sigh. He comes closer. He doesn't try to touch me again. Repeat sigh.

'Look I'm sorry. I don't know what else I can say or do at this point. I just… it's been a long day.'

'That gives you an excuse to nearly kill someone does it?' The words are definitely making it past my throat now. I hope they make it all the way to his heart and stick in his brain.

'Ugh, Icarus, don't. Don't guilt trip me. The guy had it coming.'

I turn and his eyes rest on mine. Cold. Did he just say that?

'Had it coming? You came out of nowhere and took him by the neck and tried to wring the life out him. Do you have any idea what that feels like? What it's like when someone stops you breathing, and you can't do anything, you just have to lie there, squirming, and you can't think of anything else but breathing and breath and air and not being able to do what you need to live –'

'Icarus, I said I'm sorry.'

'Well you aren't. I know you aren't. I've heard you when you're really sorry, I've heard how you sound. This isn't it. You're lying.'

He's quiet then, really quiet. Presses on his eyelids with a thumb and forefinger.

'You're right,'

A hard, short laugh stuns me,

'I'm not sorry. I would have done exactly the same thing if I had to, right now. The only reason I feel bad, quite frankly, is because it upset you.'

I don't even know how to react to that. He notices, because his voice gets weaker somehow.

'Look, I'm… I've been trying to piece everything back together and its… its… hard. I'm not going to pretend I'm perfect. No one is. But not too long ago, I thought that I was, and so did everyone else. And now that's gone. And I'm ordinary. And its…' he sighs.

'Its just hard. Hah, pathetic aren't I?'

Pathetic? Said the guy who had all of Greece at his feet, for some reason decided to bother saving me, and then dragged himself back from the edge of death just cos I asked him to? Meanwhile I can't even defend myself against a couple of stupid imp faces.

If anyone's pathetic it's me.

'N-no. You're not pathetic. You just… need to learn to see people as people rather than… things that get in your way.'

Again, he laughs, not a hard cold one though, one that has a feeling I can't put my thoughts on.

'That's the thing, Icarus. I did. Ever since you fell from the sky. I learnt to see people alright… why do you think I stopped? Let him go. In a past life I… I could've done much worse.'

A hand, fingers in mine. They aren't cold, they're warm and sweaty. I know his words are kinda creepy, yet I don't want to pull away. He's nervous. That makes me feel better somehow.

'How have you been? I haven't really seen you for days now.'

Me?

How have I been?

What's he talking about?

'You saw me last night,' my voice comes out more confused than I mean it to,

'Don't you remember? The sacrificey-burnt-offering thing?'

His hand loosens, fingers come undone. Did I say something wrong? He's frowning at me in the worst way, its my turn to be nervous. He doesn't look good. He still looks pale. He swallows – is his throat as dry as mine right now? Its really dry -

'Icarus, that was days ago. Three, to be precise.'

Three… three days ago? What?

'Icarus?'

'No, it wasn't three days. I woke up in the night. You were covered in blood and saying poetry and-'

'Yes, and then we talked. All night, there is no way I could forget even if I wanted to. You were the one who suggested hiring the slaves.'

'...Me?'

'Yes, you.'

'But I don't… are you sure you're not just making this up?'

He makes a face at me, which I can't help laughing at.

His stays serious though.

'You can't remember? You wanted to bathe so badly. It would've been a welcome reprive, but we couldn't go to the baths, it was far too late. Obviously, I couldn't just drop everything and leave, not with things in this state. So the next morning, I told the girls to just draw you a bath here, but you never came out of your room that day. Had to leave your food by the doorway. Yesterday came, I thought you were still in a bad mood, so I checked in on you once or twice but you were sleeping most of the time. Can't blame you for being exhausted after everything that's happened, but I was… getting worried. However, you showed up to dinner afterwards, so I assumed you had rested well. You still weren't talking to me though. The next I saw of you was by the well this morning.'

What?

What?

Is this a joke? Is he seriously joking right now? That's not funny. All the shit we've been through, and he's joking about remembering stuff and not remembering stuff– I'm finding it hard to keep track as it is – but if he's getting stuff all muddled up in his head...

'I… didn't do any of that. I was waiting for you, you said you'd go to the baths with me. You're the one who can't remember. I'm serious, are you still ill or something?'

'Icarus, I've spent these past two days writing contracts and organizing correspondences. If that night only happened yesterday, how could I have gotten two days worth of paperwork done in a morning?'

'But… but… I remember! I remember because I woke up this morning and all that stuff was last night, I know it!'

I know it. I know because –

'There's still blood in my hair! Blood wouldn't have stayed this fresh for two days! See!'

He's looking now, he's looking at the hair which I'm shoving into his face. He pauses. I feel his fingers pressing against my scalp, combing through the tangles. Finally, he comes away.

'The curliest hair in all of Greece, but no blood.'

'That's impossible, it was still there even when I tried washing it this morning – '

'Icarus, your hair is clean.'

'Well it doesn't feel clean!' my voice is breaking. Stop, I'm too loud, not talking, shouting. He's looking at me like – why is he, why is he looking at me like that, why –

Narcissus

He's been getting more and more frantic throughout this entire conversation, but now he's losing it. He looks like he's on the verge of tears, eyes darting around, looking for some invisible way out of this –

'I know what I'm talking about, stop looking at me like that!'

'Like what?'

'Like I'm stupid. I'm not stupid, I know what I'm talking about! It was yesterday!'

'Icarus, please stop shouting. I'm right here, not in Athens.'

'I-'

'Sshhh.'

'Argh!'

'Now you're just making random noises, which really isn't helping your case.'

His lips press together and he glowers at me. At least he's calmer now. I may be appearing rather blasé about the whole thing, but to be honest, I am worried. Who just forgets days like they never happened?

'I'm assuming you never got your bath then, did you?' I try to lighten the mood a little. It works, he's taken off guard, looking at me with a slightly less evil glare. His head shakes quickly.

'As I thought. Can smell you from half a mile away.'

His glare instantly becomes poisonous again. A hand whips out and collides with my arm, some sort of half-hearted attempt at putting me back in my place. Gods, he's adorable even when he's trying to be threatening.

'Right. Come on let's go.'

I'll draw the entire bloody thing myself if I have to.

…

Note to self, thank Eliana later. Well, more than I already have done. Girl's an angel I swear.

A rather sassy angel.

More like a sassy water bearer. She'd make a good constellation.

Here we sit, basking in the twilight glow, soaking in hot water. Well, I'm soaking in hot water, he's curled up on the bench. His face nuzzles deeper into the towel draped around his legs. He hugs his knees as though they were the most comfortable pillow in the world.

'You know, to have a bath, you actually have to make contact with the water.'

Icarus gives me what I assume is meant to be a withering look, then lowers his toes, oh so slowly, towards the pool. Instead of relaxing into the steam, his expression only becomes more tense.

'You don't look like you're having a good time,' I quip after a few seconds. He seems to give up and snatches his feet away from the bath.

'Eliana practically got up out of bed to help draw this for you, and dragged the ever-obstinate Chloe with her, which is no easy task I can tell you. You're just going to let it go to waste?'

Still no reaction. He isn't even looking at me anymore.

This makes no sense, I thought he was dying to get…

Oh.

This is the journey to Athens all over again.

'You're scared of the water, aren't you?'

A sharp breath, he screams at me with his eyes.

'No.' his voice comes quiet, blunt, bitter.

'I'm not. It's not that. I just…'

'…yes?'

'I just don't like the feel of water.'

'You… don't like the feel o-'

'No. I don't. It's all sticky and clingy and no matter how much you try to dry off it always feels…cold. Ugh.'

'This water's hot.'

'It always gets cold.'

'Bathing wasn't a problem before.'

'Well, it's a problem now. Can we just drop it?'

'Not if you still want to get clean.'

'Can't we just wash my hair? It's fine if its just one part of my body, I just don't want to be… in the water. Underneath it, so I can't get away.'

'And you couldn't have told me this before?'

'I didn't realise, I'm sorry okay?'

'You strange child,' I mutter, and almost feel bad afterwards, but it's true. One minute he'll be fine, the next he's acting like Selene just stole his sanity and left him with nothing.

'Oh, shut up,' his face twists in annoyance, and yes, it is still adorable. In a cute-baby-brother sort of way, I swear. Not that I have siblings. At least none that I've met, so I wouldn't know but… oh whatever.

'You were the one who nearly turned into a flower. Shouldn't you be scared of… vegetables now or something?'

The laughter is instant and loud, I cannot help myself. He stares at me, unimpressed.

'What?'

'Oh, Icarus.'

I rise from the small pool, taking care not to slip on the tiles that dig gently into my feet. His eyes follow me, then his head, until he cannot turn anymore, and apparently can't be bothered to either.

And then I see it.

I was going to browse over what oils I could use, but something much more interesting grasps my attention, causes a kind of chain reaction in my mind. It bubbles up within me – something like mirth – something like childishness – something that I was convinced I'd lost long ago. But here it is, once more, rearing it's pretty little head.

My hands carefully divert.

I pick up the bucket of lukewarm water when I'm in his blind spot.

'I really think that depends on the person and not the object of fear.'

Icarus is staring at the bath beneath him again.

Perfect.

'What do you mean?'

'Well,'

I let the words wheedle out of my mouth, nonchalant, unassuming –

'With some people, fear manifests for an instant, and then dissipates, disappears like a sparse cloud on the wind. Once the danger's over, they don't give it a second thought. People like me. Whereas with some people,'

One step. Two steps. Closer and closer. He's in his own world, watching the water below as if it's going to attack him at any moment.

'With some people the fear only grows the further away from the danger they get.'

Closer, just a bit –

'With those people you have to make them face that fear, time and time again. Only then is it they realise that the more they encounter that fear, the more likely it is they'll survive it.'

'Well that just seems stup- ARRRGH!'

Aha! The bucket sits pretty over his head, having been emptied of it's cleansing burden. Icarus is frozen, sat on the side, feet fully submerged in the bath now. The water on his feet is the least of his problems.

'Ahahaha, haha, ha ha, hah! ahem.'

I can't help but let out a small laugh. My mistake. Mocking only spurs him into action and the bucket nearly takes off my head as it goes flying across the room.

'You bastard! I hate you!'

The rest of the laughter falls out of me,

'Well, how else did you expect to get your hair washed?'

'I was working on it!'

'You really weren't.'

'I did it myself earlier.'

'Yeah and look how that went. Look, I'm sorry, but we were going to be here all night otherwise, then the water really would have gotten cold.'

Out of all the glares, this has to be the most poisonous. And the most adora-

I really need to stop thinking that.

'Come here.'

Before he can get away I take his thick, curly hair gently between my fingers. Like instinct, I begin combing it out, as though it were… my own. No reflection needed this time though.

Great, now I have to make a point to keep my eyes off the water, lest I'm reminded of –

'What are you doing?'

He tries to wriggle away, I take a firm hold on a lock of hair.

'You seem incapable of handling this like an adult, so I'm going to treat you like a child until you do.'

Icarus gives a indignant little moan, before he sits back down on the bench. I grab a vial of random olive oil and start to rub it into his now-damp-rapidly-cooling hair. His hair really is quite soft, which is a contradiction in itself because it looks like it should feel like sandpaper, or sheep's wool, or something equally as coarse. But it almost feels like fine silk beneath my fingers – stretching itself, fragile and black-stranded across the loom of my fingertips. Massaging the fragrant oil into every hair on his head, every pore, every follicle, is relaxing, almost therapeutic actually…

And then my fingers run over something strange – bald, rough –

The front of his head now. At first I think it's a remnant of the burns, but no. There's another one around the back.

It's only momentary, but I swear I feel his whole body freeze as my fingers brush over the scars.

But only for a moment.

I find myself holding back what can only be described as a small sob, and it takes all my willpower to stop my fists from clenching in rage.

I'm aware of what he's been through. Of course I am, an explanation was almost the first thing I demanded out of him when he arrived. But still…

When he got these, he must have been younger, smaller. These are old, old scars, I only have a grand total of three myself. Scars that get made… in glorious battles, or in the thrill of the hunt, or at the last bacchanal where you ended up in a bet with some idiot that you could take him down in a spear fight with a blindfold on.

But not on a fifteen-year-old boy who's barely seen the light of day. Certainly, not anyone younger than that.

'Who the hell did this?'

The words are plastered in the warm misty air before they can be filtered through my brain. Thank the gods they only come out as a murmur, I don't think he heard me. Either that, or he did hear me, and just chooses not to answer.

Either way works fine for me.

Icarus

See, its probably a good thing I fell from the sky that day. All the old scars got ignored for the busted limbs.

But now I guess the new ones have healed up mostly, the old ones stand out more. They've just become a part of me now, I can't remember a time when my skin was just one shade of brown, without purples and greens and reds in splotches and lines and welts all dancing around the veins. But to others… maybe it's the reason they look at me so weirdly.

I'm only just realizing that, now that I've got someone else's fingers in my hair feeling out every bump on my skull. I feel his hands shift to my shoulders. I think he's just seen my back up close for the first time – and that can't be pretty –

'Most of them are from ages ago,'

I start. The hands pause. I can only imagine his face, surprised that I replied.

'Minos' guards got bored after a while. Every now and again though, a couple of newbies got brought up to "the tower". Our tower. From what I overheard, it was an initiation practice – creep into the tower by the labyrinth in the dead of night, to Minos' most hated prisoners. Then, target practice – you get more points for the old man but it's more fun to beat up the kid. I don't know how dad survived it. They never bothered sending healers up.'

The hands disappear.

I think he was too close.

I should check on him. I turn –

He's turned away.

'Um, hello? I was enjoying that. Why'd you stop?'

He breathes. In, out. Then turns back to me. Flashes a smile – a less creepy version of the one he gave the others earlier. He's still hiding though.

'Sorry. Do you want the lavender next or the chamomile?'

'What's the one you're always using?'

'Bergamot? That is strictly reserved for me.'

'Why?'

'Because it's expensive. And I like to treat myself; it gives me a distinctive charm as I waft past people.'

'I think vanilla suits you better.'

'Wh-what?'

'Nothing.'

'I've never worn vanilla essence-'

'Never mind.'

Is it weird that, now I'm thinking about it, I kinda liked how he smelled as a flower? Maybe I should keep that to myself.

'H-hey Narcissus?'

'Hm?'

'Do you… remember anything? At the lakeside I mean.'

'…'

No answer. He's stopped moving. Stupid question, knew it before I asked.

'I don't really want to talk about it to be perfectly honest. I'd rather forget the whole damn experience.'

'But – '

Stop talking Icarus, stop –

'But, that wasn't the point of it.'

'…What are you on about?'

'Dad… Daedalus. He always kept telling me, "things happen for a reason. You've got to learn from every single thing that happens to you, even if it's horrible." The more horrible something is, the more you learn from it, right? Like falling from the sky. Or washing your hair.'

Narcissus smiles then, almost smug, but not. It's…what the word? Wiseful. No, wistful.

'Huh. Using my own words against me. That's low.'

'Besides, the white floating lady-'

'White floating lady?'

'The one from the temple,' I explain. Narcissus frowns even more.

'The Oracle? How do you know about her?'

'Because I was there. In the room. When she… you know.'

'You… were there? I mean, I know you were at the temple but… you were in the room? When she…'

I nod slowly. He makes all sorts of nearly-faces, but then flattens it out, like an ironed crease.

'…I… I'm sorry you had to see that.'

No.

'No you're not.'

He looks at me, frowning.

'You're not sorry I had to see that. In fact, I think you're secretly glad.'

'What?'

His voice goes funny,

'Icarus, how could you even- '

'I mean, I am. I'm glad you had someone there with you, to share your pain, even though you didn't know it then.'

He breathes in, oh so slowly. Then out again. Sits beside me on the bench, facing the other way. His fingers slip in and out of each other as the oil coats his skin.

'I don't think that has to be a bad thing. When you're in pain, its good to have someone there, going through it with you. I think it's why you came back. Cos I was there with you. You're not sorry I had to see you get cursed. You're sorry about these.'

I point to my scalp. He doesn't say anything.

Narcissus

'You need to learn to stop lying. Stop saying sorry for things you aren't sorry for and say what you actually mean. Cos all lies get found out in the end. And all that does is fuck everyone else around you, over.'

His language doesn't startle me so much as the force that came with it, though he speaks softly, his voice low. He sounds so… adult. Obviously, his body's not the only thing bearing scars.

'I suppose you're right.'

'I know I'm right. If there's one thing I'm right about its this.'

'…'

'…'

'…'

'My head is cold.'

'Oh, right. So– argh! Gods damn it!'

I glance at him and the light is suddenly back in his eyes; apparently my pain is funny to him. I prop my stubbed and bleeding toe on the bench – right next to his hand – and he noticeably winces.

'What's wrong? Not so funny now is it?'

'Ew, no, get it away from me.'

'It's just a tiny little stubbed toe, Icarus – '

'I swear I will chop the rest of your foot off if you don't move it now! No, don't put it in the bath water! Ew!'

'Ahahahaha,'

As much fun as this is, and as hilarious as it is teasing Icarus with a toe oozing blood, we should probably both get cleaned up before the water really does go cold. Still, it is nice to talk to him like this. Everything else has been so stressful recently, I want to savour this moment. I don't want the laughter to end, not just yet.

He's standing now, right on the very edge of the bath.

Prime target.

Oh, not again.

But how could I deny the opportunity when he's practically begging to be the victim of another classic prank.

What is wrong with me today?

'Come here, you.'

A foot out – not the stubbed one – his ankle catches in the perfect place. You might think it's dangerous to trip someone up in a bathhouse, but trust me, I've done this move plenty of times –

Except most of the other times, I was slightly stronger, wearing slightly less than a rather heavy, rather wet towel, and had slightly less slippery oil coating my hands and forearms.

It's just occurred to me that I've made a mistake.

I scramble to catch his falling body –

Slip

Too fragile to hit the floor without breaking all over again –

Oh, gods what have I done?

Slip

Twisting, turning, underneath him, redirect, angle it right –

SPLISSH!

We rise, me as smoothly as a naiad and him coughing and spluttering. I go to pound his back, but he slaps me away, fire burning in his eyes even as he struggles to breathe. Everything is silent, besides his shallow breaths scratching the air. He turns to me, water swirling around like a mini Charybdis. Murderous rage incoming in three, two…

He stares at me. And keeps staring. And keeps – why is he staring at me?

Slowly, oh so slowly red creeps up his face. He's…

He's blushing.

He's blushing and he's not just staring at me –

I follow his gaze to the waterline.

And beyond.

Well, that explains things.

'…'

'Icarus, you are staring at me like you've never seen a phallus before.'

He only goes more red.

'Icarus, are you still alive in there?'

Suddenly another cough wracks his body, spurring him out of whatever frozen trance he was in. He quickly averts his gaze. Finished coughing now –

'PUT YOUR TOWEL BACK ON!'

'Okay, alright! By Hera's nagging voice, you are loud.'

He's quiet then. Goes to sit on the edge of the other side of the bath, which is only two steps away but still. Doesn't even look in my direction for the next ten minutes.

Poor kid. Now that I think about it, he's probably never seen anyone's but his own. Possibly his father's.

Unless…

They wouldn't have? I wouldn't put it past them if they were evil enough to –

'For your information, no I have not seen a… phallus before. At least not anyone else's, and not in real life. I mean it's on jars and stuff everywhere I just never… really… had the chance to put two and two together…'

He babbles quietly, almost to himself. It's enough to assuage my fears though; at least he's still innocent and unscarred in that respect.

'…I mean… that means they're bigger in real life then?'

The towel at this point is securely around my waist, but it's in grave danger of falling off again with how hard I'm laughing.

'What's so funny?'

'Nothing, nothing. Ahem. Oh, Icarus, wow. This is desperate. We need to educate you badly in the ways of the world.'

'Right. So if you want to educate me, answer my question.' He speaks with such a completely serious, neutral, innocent expression that just as I've picked myself up, I'm falling back over again with laughter.

'Okay, okay,' finally pulling myself together, I perch beside him – not too close, he still glances warily at my soaked towel every now and again,

'Let me explain. What you just saw is part of the reason I am so famed throughout Greece. A typically ideal model let's say, would have smaller parts, as it's associated with higher intelligence. Having brains and girth apparently isn't possible in the eyes of small minded society. Fortunately for me, I'm a non-conformist, I don't have to sacrifice one for the other. That means I don't fall short anywhere. It was unfortunate for you, with that being your first time really seeing anything. Now you're going to end up having unrealistic standards for the rest of your sex life. That is of course, if you ever have encounters with men.'

'…'

'Now, obviously you haven't finished growing yet, but still, I wouldn't expect too much. I'd be surprised if you even reached half my size-'

'With men?'

His face states confusion.

'Encounters with men? Dad never mentioned men.'

'…'

Well, this is going to be a bloody long night.