"I had wondered when you would visit my hall again." King Creon's lap was laden with scrolls, and his thumb traced the back of his signet ring as if deliberating whether the works before him deserved his approval. "Your genial nature is as legendary as your strength. With such a renowned reputation, Mighty Hercules, I did not anticipate you would prove duplicitous as well as magnanimous."
All the advisors who stood about their king wavered in their stances, afraid it seemed that Hercules was here to exact bloody vengeance on their king.
Hercules kept calm. He wasn't here to strike fear into every Theban dignitary. "Your children warned me not to involve you until the proceedings were over. At the time, I didn't understand. I have two fathers, one terrestrial and one celestial. I've never had reasons to fear either of them. Yet, you once had six children and now you have two. Until a few days ago, you thought you only had one. Why aren't you embarrassed that neither of them was happy to bring you the news I was marrying your daughter? It's a miracle they're both alive, but you're ungrateful. You treat them like a criminal and a fugitive."
"Interesting choice of word: fugitive. My daughter fled the city rather than do her duty by her people. Did she tell you she was engaged to another man at the time, or did she deceive you and say she was a virgin when you met?"
"Megara and I keep no secrets." Not anymore.
"Not from one another, perhaps," Creon's lip curled in disgust. "You are not a father, are you?"
"Not yet." Hercules clipped the words short.
"Of course. You must have lain with Megara by now. Far be it from me to cast doubt on the virility of a Son of Zeus. Well, when Megara yields you my grandchild, you will witness the ingratitude and rebellion of children. You will appreciate the difficulty with which you must curtail their worst impulses."
"Is that all? Obedience, at all costs?" Hercules stepped closer and rolled his tense shoulders. The tension remained, only mounting as he longed to shake the king.
His face was drawn and serious, but no flicker of emotion showed on it. Why couldn't he summon any feelings at all? Hercules could make him feel something, but he knew his father's law regarding kingslaying.
"Obedience is the only way to train children to avoid their destructive urges."
Images of the children he'd supervised on one fateful field trip flashed through Hercules's mind. The children he'd rescued from monsters and collapsing buildings and natural disasters weren't mere monsters. He knew even he hadn't been one when the villagers who lived near his parents believed he was. Creon may be confident in his assessment, but he was still wrong.
"I know what kids are like," he said at last. "They want to prove they're like their parents and earn their approval. But they all start out weak and clumsy and vulnerable, looking for someone to encourage them. You've got to show them that mistakes happen to everyone, and if you have no mercy, you'll break their hearts. Meg's tough. It took a lot to break her down. I was surprised to learn anyone was capable of it, but somehow you managed. She was broken when I met her, but we're putting her back together without you."
"I applaud your candor, young hero," Creon said, unmoved. "Though you lack understanding, you have boundless passion. A boon to your profession, I'm sure."
Was that really all?
"I don't get it," Hercules shook his head. "How do you keep doing this? The way you treat your son tells me you don't believe he could be a king in his own right. He has to exercise his own wisdom soon. You won't be around to give him orders forever. How is he supposed to manage any city, let alone Thebes?"
"He must conform himself to divine law. As long as he is the Crown Prince, he must respect my interpretation of the law."
"What is the law to a king who can change it?" Hercules demanded. "I've been a king before. At least the people of Thebes are strong-willed and independent, not like the Thessaloi. You can afford to focus on things that matter, instead of an iron grip on your own children. My wife and I don't live in Thebes anymore because we don't want to raise our children in your shadow. I wish it were different, but you have time to change. Megarion deserves a father who does right by him. You can still help make him the king he deserves to become."
"Is this the permissiveness you plan to treat your children with?"
"Permissive? What have they done? From my perspective, you've had plenty of chances to learn that you have a short list of blessings in life, and you're down to two. I think it's not anything that they've done that shouldn't be permitted; it's what you've done. You corrupted the gifts the gods granted you, and you spit in the faces of those that have offered you compassion in your suffering."
"Compassion does not exist in Thebes," Creon countered. "There is only tragedy and mounting misfortune."
"Not while I'm around. This has become my home, and the curse is broken. Hades tried to end the world, and I reversed the apocalypse. This is your opportunity to see the world differently. I suggest you take it."
"You think you know Megara and Megarion, but you don't. They're deceitful and too clever by half. They cannot be allowed to run about doing whatever they please."
"They're your children, your highness. Did it ever occur to you that they should love you and not be afraid of you? Why do you think they've felt as if the best thing to do is hide from you? Why don't you ever prove that you're trustworthy and caring to either of them? Meg was afraid to talk about you. She didn't even want me to know who she was."
The irritation seemed to form a golden halo around his vision. Hercules took one menacing step toward the king, and at last, he saw the man flinch. "You will change this today. When your son returns home, you'll be grateful to see him, and you'll treat him as your worthy heir. If I ever deem you worthy of seeing your daughter again, you will never give her a look like you did at the parade."
"Do you expect a suggestion like that to change anything?" asked the king.
"It's an order!" Hercules snarled. "This isn't a problem I plan to ignore. It's gone on long enough. I swear on my father's name with all righteous intent, that you shall not tyrannize your household a day longer. On pain of death, visited upon you by Zeus himself, you will learn to treat your family with the love and respect they deserve!" He wasn't sure if he'd imagined it, but his voice had an echo to it as he spoke. "I'm done here. If I ever return and find that you haven't made any changes, so help me, King Creon, I'll bring down the might of the gods on your head!" He walked back out toward the exit, then stopped. "Do you still have anything that belonged to Meg here?"