"They talk to you out front like they see you pretty often," Megara remarked as Hercules led her along.

"Every time they dedicate a new play in my name, I show up to support it, and everyone usually wants to see me here. But this time…" He closed the door to the box behind her and then drew a curtain over the half of the box facing the audience. "This is just for the two of us."

Hercules had evidently customized his private theater box to suit his needs. A trio of seats was set up against the edge of the box: one built broad and sturdy like the hero, one built much taller, and one that resembled a nest. Behind all of these was a broad couch ordinarily used for dining.

"That's for intermission," Hercules explained when he caught her looking. "I normally get really hungry, but since we just ate… I'll only be a little hungry."

They shared a laugh, but Megara was still trying to decide where she would sit. She had to watch the downfall of her family from the perfect vantage point, after all.

"I could move the couch up," Hercules suggested. "Or…" With the house lights still on, Megara saw his mischief overcome his shyness. "We could share my seat."

"Are you sure that's not too much for you?"

"We could just try it for a while, and if it didn't work…"

"Sit down, and we'll see how you like it."

He was quick to take up his position, gazing at her as if unable to believe that this was happening. To be fair, Megara was dumbfounded by this turn of events, herself. It didn't stop her from knowing precisely what to do.

Megara braced herself on both arms of Hercules's cushioned seat and eased herself in to sit on his lap. She wiggled, presumably looking for the right posture, and not at all oblivious to the sounds he was making. "This is nice," she concluded in a low whisper directly into his ear. "I didn't expect it to be so warm." She slipped an arm around his neck. "How is it for you?"

"Ah…" the sound came from somewhere deep in Hercules's throat. His mouth hung open, and his eyes were bulbous.

"Is this the first time a girl sat in your lap?" she asked.

He could only nod.

"Is it too much for you?"

Hercules set a hand across her legs, took a deep breath, and finally said, "Let me get used to you. I don't want to lose the experience just because I haven't had any before. But if you don't like it after a while, we can change."

"I'm fine," she whispered as she took his face in her hands. "I'll make you fine, too."

Below them, the chorus invoked the muses and spoke mournfully of all the experiences Thebes had suffered since its founding, though there was a verse at the end praising Hercules for reversing centuries of misery.

He squirmed under her and made several embarrassed noises under his breath.

"Shh… someone's bound to notice you're here, ya big ox." Megara set her hand on his knee and whispered, "Take the credit. You earned it."

"Okay," he whispered back, and set a hand over hers. "Thanks."

"As a Theban, we've never had it so good. As a date, I've never enjoyed my time in the theater so much, either."

"Me neither…" Hercules leaned his cheek on the crown of her head and heaved a deep sigh. "You always smell so nice…"

The play introduced the curse upon King Laius, and how it had spilled over onto the rest of his family. Someone even spared mention of the sphinx, who appeared in the form of a cloth puppet held up by multiple actors on stilts.

"Oh… I really hate those," Hercules mumbled. "I got the riddle right last time, but my head would've hurt a lot less if I could've just rammed him. The riddle itself was bad enough, but he was gonna eat my friends…"

"Next time bring a backup brain who likes to solve riddles."

Hercules kissed her cheek. "If she'd like to."

A giggle escaped before she could slap a hand over her mouth to hide it. Megara squashed her emotions into a tiny box and slammed the lid shut. She had to focus. Hercules was being so open with her that there had to be an opportunity to leverage something of what he said… Besides, here she was in his lap, whispering to him and accepting kisses. And giggling! It was too real. Had she not been absorbed in her thoughts, she wouldn't have been startled by the arrival of an actor portraying Teiresias.

He shambled across the stage in a way that convinced Megara the actor had seen the blind prophet while he was alive. Shivers ran through her blood the same way they had whenever the man visited her family at the palace. She envied the ordinary folk who never had to consult with seers. It did no good knowing what was coming for you when you were powerless to stop it.

"My friend from school always used to talk about him," Hercules mumbled to her. "She was a seer, too."

"That must have been a blast," Megara scoffed.

"Well, she hated it, and her visions were always about disasters, but I think she learned how to master it and didn't feel so miserable all the time. The last I saw her, she was off to Delphi. Did… you ever meet Teiresias?"

Megara narrowed her eyes. There were five girls standing onstage wearing tragic masks. Out of the five, she knew the leader must be Antigone, but surely there were enough… One of them might be there to represent her… "A few times. He was in Thebes his whole life, and he would wander… blind, y'know? Now, pay attention."

The actor spoke to Oedipus, in what Megara recalled was a somewhat accurate dialogue. The audience muttered to one another, solemnity blending with dread. There was not a Theban alive who didn't know what was coming next. Why did this city insist on re-traumatizing itself? Megara had learned to toss all her darkest memories over her shoulder. Why couldn't everyone else stop rehashing the past?

Megara glared at the stage. Creon stood behind Oedipus, where he could hear everything the seer said to the king. The mask resembled him in some ways. There was the curly beard and the solemn frown. But the eyes weren't painted in, dark purple as the tannins left at the bottom of a winepress.

It was time to stop. Her father would never see her again, so he'd never again calculate her failures with those dark, searching eyes. Megara didn't need his help. She already knew she was worthless now that she'd spent years doing Hades' dirty work. What was she doing now? Hercules was holding the very viper poised to strike, and all she could do was focus on an identity crisis!

The events swam before her eyes as they had when she was a child. She saw in triplicate: first through her own childhood memories, secondly through her own eyes in the present, and third in her imagination as the girl playing her onstage looking out into the audience back at herself. Oedipus once again denounced the holy prophet and sent him away. Again, Teiresias stopped before the girls and spoke directly to them.

"Daughters of Oedipus, Princesses of Thebes…" The actor indicated each member of the chorus of actresses with his staff, naming them off. "Antigone, Ismene, Megara, Halkyone, Pyrrha. I weep for you girls. In your own ways, you will all die for love."

Hercules jostled Megara in his excitement. "Wow, one of the princesses has the same name as you!"

"Uh-huh…" Megara was grateful for the darkness that shielded her blush. "It's fashionable to name kids after royalty. Or it was when I was born." Specifically, she'd been named after her twin brother, but there was no way she'd admit to that.

Who'd dared to report the prophecy to the playwright? Why was she hearing it now, on the eve of Hades's campaign for the heavens? This wasn't even a fully accurate recording of the prophecy, but it hit hard. She had to keep her wits about her.

"Do you know what happened to Princess Megara?"

"She died," Megara snapped with what she hoped was enough finality to change the subject. "It's been a while. Doesn't matter how she went, but she's gone, along with all the others."

"I see why living in Thebes is so tough," Hercules sighed, shaking his head. "Theoi. This is a nightmare."

"It hasn't even started."

She could feel his eyes on her in the dark. Not the way his uncle would watch, calculating for her vulnerable spots where he could land a jab, but with compassion. "Is this too much for you?" he whispered, offering a hand. "We can head out, Meg."

"No, no. You're Thebes's hero, now. You've gotta understand us as a people. It'll make you more…" she twirled a hand in the air, "... part of us. Of this place."

"All right, but tell me if you change your mind." Hercules rested his chin on her shoulder so their heads could nestle together. He would definitely be sacrificing something if they left.

That made it easier to hide the faces she was making as intermission drew near, but it couldn't quiet the steady drumbeat of Fate that kept pace with her heart. Soon, history would repeat. The soil of Thebes required a sacrifice. It required her. She'd escaped the last harvest fled from the field. That wouldn't change anything long-term.

What am I even thinking? Megara winced, her eyes shut.

Focus. If she could get through tonight with some tidbit for Hades, even something inconsequential that wouldn't hurt Hercules, then maybe… something?

"Do you wanna move to the couch or ditch the show?" Hercules asked.

"Couch! Let's sit there." She braced herself on the arm of the chair to slide off him, but he scooped her back into his arms and moved with her to the couch, instead.

"Faster this way," he explained. It also happened to keep them in contact, but that seemed to go without saying. "They usually come over and ask if I want anything. What would you like?"

"They're bound to have some pomegranate juice and walnut cakes, right? I think that's usually what I'd have at the theater when I wasn't backstage."

"Definitely," he promised. "So tell me, how accurate is this play? Right now, it seems kind of far-fetched! This has to be exaggerated, right? With this whole marrying-your-mother thing? It's terrifying! How did he never figure it out before now?" Hercules asked.

"He thought he was from Corinth, and we've got some relatives there. I mean, Thebes and Corinth, you know? Lots of commerce, lots of intermarriage. So if he thought he was a Corinthian, he wouldn't suspect anything if Jocasta looked like him. On top of all that, we only see what we allow ourselves to see."

Hercules nodded. He played with the sash about her waist and arranged her skirt neatly so that while she lounged beside him, it covered her whole leg. "I like it when you explain things. Could you tell me something… random? I've been wondering if Oedipus might've beseeched a god or two to try and get out of this."

"Who would help him? It's a lost cause by this point."

"Maybe Athena would've helped him when he first got here. After all, he was clever, and she likes people like that. He could've told her what was going on."

"Fate won't let mortals fight for something different. We always find ourselves where those three hags want us to go."

"You don't think Fate could ever be wrong?"

"You'd have to beat the cobwebs out of them before they made any changes, and I'll wager they'd make those outcomes even worse to spite you."

"I've tangled with them before, actually…" he chuckled. "All over some Orpheus tickets. I guess you're right that the Fates are defensive over their domain, but… I still don't think living your life under a tyrant like that and never trying to escape is worth blaming on the Fates."

"What tyrant?" Megara asked with an edge she hadn't intended.

"You know… belief in Fate and how you're cursed and stuff." He was hiding something. "I'm just saying, you could be happier if you decided you'd change something about your life instead of accepting that you hate it."

"That sort of thing isn't up to me. In my case, there's nowhere to run. I'll always be me, and there's nothing I can do about it."

"I wouldn't say that's so bad…"

The man running concessions arrived, and Hercules asked him for one of the honey walnut cakes and two orders of pomegranate juice. He settled Megara against the backrest of the couch while they received their intermission snack, and kept an arm around her.

"If there was one thing that you lost and you'd fight to get it back, what would it be?" he asked her.

"My freedom," she blurted out. "I can't make any choices. I'm always obeying orders. At least I can choose how, but it's never enough."

Was it the wine, his heat, or his scent? She'd never be that forthcoming on purpose…

"Why'd you lose it, though?" he asked.

Megara drank some of her juice. "I was alone, and then not quite alone, and I wanted to keep it that way."

"Oh…" She knew she hadn't told him anything with that statement, and his face only confirmed it. "Was there anything you gained from… whatever it is that happened?"

"No. Someone took it." She rang finality into her words so he'd stop pressing. He was asking a lot more questions than she was tonight. How odd.

"So… whatever you were going to get is…?"

"Gone with the breeze of Boreas. And good riddance, too."

He seemed even more confused, but now the lights were dimming again.

"Let's move." Megara got up first, handing him the rest of the dessert.

"Do you still want to sit… with me?"

"On you. Yes. Sit." She'd have to take control of this situation before it controlled her.

Hercules didn't say anything this time, though he kept his arms firmly around her. He was too engrossed in the plot to speak as Queen Jocasta took her own life offstage, and Oedipus walked back onstage with blood streaming down his face. "No…" Hercules whispered into her hair.

Megara nodded, focused on the horrified players onstage. She locked her eyes on the girl assigned her own role. From outside herself, she relived the moment. Until that day, her life had been on the edge, but it had fallen and never stopped falling down a stony slope. She'd eventually reach the bottom, and then she knew she'd shatter.

"We should leave before the rest of the crowds," Hercules whispered. "Wanna go somewhere and cool down?"

"Sculpture garden."

"Huh?" He leaned closer to hear, and for a moment, her breath vanished from her lungs.

"There's a sculpture garden. The best part of the theater district. Follow me." She leaped out of her seat and dragged him back the way they'd come. I'll never look back again, she swore to herself. It's over. Get over it. But she knew as long as she lived, she never would.

"Thanks, Meg. This is the most fun I've had in months."

"I'm glad," she admitted. It was a genuine sentiment instantly crushed by the moment she remembered why she was there with him.

Hercules leaned closer, but hesitated, watching her mouth. Did he want to…?

She glanced away to hide her guilt, but he stopped her with a gentle brush of his fingertips against her cheek. "I'm not used to things going so well." While it was a true statement, she shielded herself from having to explain what was really on her mind.

"Neither am I if you'll believe it. Outside the whole hero gig, ya know? I've gotten all the training I could possibly ask for in that, but sometimes… well, all the time… the cosmos has given me the message that I'm socially inept."

"I don't believe that. I think people have been unfair to you, but that isn't your fault."

Hercules's mouth fell open, only to quickly shape into a wry smile. "You didn't know me in my Pro Ac days. But trust me, I'll never be ready to share those stories. How about we catch this play so I can stop talking before I say anything I can't take back?"

"Of course." Megara set a light hand on his arm as they walked, and felt the shiver run through his whole frame. "I've got a few skeletons in my closet, too, so it's no big deal. I'm already restraining some of my commentary to spare you."

"Spare me less. I want to know everything! Starting with… where's that garden you mentioned?"