Dawn again.
Though he'd never had reason to care about hours or days, they weighed heavily on his broad shoulders. How long did mortals take to age? He'd watch Megara's features as she slept and wonder how the time would wear away at her. It took less and less effort to coax her into sleep. This hero business was wearing her out, though he knew she'd never admit it for the sake of her pride.
He wished they had enough privacy to indulge in watching Iris paint the lights that swept across Megara's face. Someday, they would, but he'd stolen every minute he could for now.
Hercules crept out of the ramshackle bed afforded them in the arena. It had never been adequately used as a staging ground for heroic Games, but there were still remnants of Phil's ambitions. Now, though the bed creaked, Hercules used all his skill to slip free of it silently, as he was loath to wake Megara before she was ready. There were still bruises on her arms from yesterday's attempt to incorporate her into the hero business, and she needed recovery time. Every second of sleep was sacred while roughing it far away from the city with its palaces. Because of him, her life was way off track. He wasn't about to make it worse.
Phweet!
Frozen in place, Hercules recognized that the harsh blast was from a pan flute, not a divebombing harpy. Phil had played that harsh blast on the pipes while standing at the top of the arena stands, and the sound ricocheted through the curved oval much like Hercules's sword while eliminating an arc of targets. He could still see the rubble from the day before behind his trainer, and he was sure that part of today's work would be cleaning that up.
"I'm up!" Hercules charged up the stairs toward the satyr, moving as silently as possible. "Meg's asleep!"
"She should know how to get up for an early morning if she's part o' this, don't ya think?" Phil rolled his eyes and folded his arms over the pan flute hanging off his neck. "You're the one who insisted on having Princess Prissyskirts involved in-"
Hercules fixed Phil with his narrow-eyed glare, looming over his diminutive stature and blocking out the sun. "You'll respect her. Everything she's done since I got kicked off of Olympus has been done with incredible loyalty and grace. She didn't have to stick by me. She could've sent me off on my own and done any number of things behind my back. You'd be lucky to find a woman with even a fraction of her integrity and courage. So, I don't want to hear a word about her getting in the way or ruining your day. Ever."
The satyr put up his hands and took a step back. "Yeesh... Holy Hera, you don't have to give me a speech every time."
"Obviously, I do if you keep needing one." Hercules checked over his shoulder to see if they'd woken Megara. She was apparently either asleep or hadn't seen fit to move. Hopefully, she'd be capable of it after roughing it on the ground.
He should take up carpentry if he found a spare minute.
"Let's get out there since you're so eager," he said, not looking down to acknowledge his trainer. He'd get out all this frustrated aggression in the arena.
"Not so fast, buddy. Rule number 903: a hero marches on his stomach."
Hercules was pretty sure he'd heard that quote somewhere else, but he paused. "You want me to crawl everywhere?"
Phil huffed. "I go to the trouble of gettin' a breakfast set up for ya, and yer not even smart enough to know it's my job to feed you."
"Big job." Hercules finally looked down at his trainer. "There'll be enough left over for Meg, right?"
Phil shrugged.
"There will be enough left over."
He'd brought her to this island where she had to sleep on the ground. He wouldn't also let her starve.
Phil waved a dismissive hand. "Just don't focus too much on her. You're the one who needs as much energy as possible."
"Which hero rule stipulates I have to be a selfish jerk?" Hercules asked in the same tone as if he were asking a teacher a genuine question.
With a huff of annoyance, Phil hoofed his way to a long table set up in what had once been a dining room for victorious heroes. Hercules noticed everything seemed unused, and the walls had large fresco squares painted on as if that was where Phil's successful students would be celebrated if he had any.
Choosing to tuck that observation away until the appropriate time, Hercules appreciated the modest spread of skewered meats and spinach-barley salads. It was an odd thing still, this reliance on various foods instead of one. Food was so much more interesting than its smells! Hercules wished he could marvel at it with Megara, but since she remained abed, he carefully sectioned off portions of everything on offer to ensure she was spared when she was ready. Assuming she knew where to join them.
He would have to be extra noisy so that she could follow the clamor.
"Focus, pal! I'm not yer nanny goat. You're a full-grown man!" Phil had climbed onto a table to get as close to Hercules's face as possible. "You gotta get serious about training, or you'll never make it! What's got you so distracted?"
Hercules narrowed his eyes. "Base motor functions of eating breakfast?" he asked in a monotone not unlike a Theban may speak with. "The fact it's early in the morning, and I've left my wife alone?"
"Ya worried about competition?" Phil's voice had a mocking edge, but Hercules shrugged him off.
"This is a new situation, but you should know by now because we just discussed this. I don't find disparaging remarks about her to be humorous at all. Let the woman sleep without you sullying her name."
The satyr was beyond arguing his point. He was too busy gnawing at some tall grasses he'd collected in a basket. While he maintained a sour countenance the entire time, he could have been much more disagreeable had he chosen to be. "I only got one bit of advice for ya, kid. Run!"
Before he'd given that discrepancy in his coach's command much thought, he was out on the field again. Did the satyr say there'd be two words to confuse him? To make him act on instinct and test how quickly he could respond? Had he forgotten what he planned to say? It didn't matter, really. Not on a morning like this.
The morning dew clung to his feet as his sandals pounded grass, but he was more interested in the distance he could gain running outside the arena than he was in sticking to the sands. Most monsters didn't live in the sand, anyway. Did they? He'd like to think most would live in environments that weren't such a bad trek. Everything was bothersome now that he couldn't vanish and reappear whenever he wanted.
As he ran, Hercules allowed his thoughts to coagulate into a pleasant hum of fleeting images and impressions. He'd rarely enjoyed anything quite so much while he was a god, but this new life. His new life outstripped the old in many ways. His return to Olympus would crystallize the best parts of who he'd become. He'd never forget how different it was to feel the cool grass whipping against his mortal flesh. Was it the impermanence, or did his aura block sensation?
He skidded to a halt at the starting line in the arena, smirking proudly at his trainer.
Phil seemed impressed but held his ground as a skeptical satyr. "Yer good, kid, but were ya that good on Olympus?"
Hercules shrugged. "Never really paid attention, didn't have to."
"Well, now ya do. I want ya to do the same thing another twenty times. Go!"
Twenty. It was probably overkill, but Hercules was already off. His mind sank under the surface while his body surged with each fluid motion. It was getting tedious, but there was still some enjoyment in knowing he did it well. On the third lap, something swung up into his field of vision: a wooden dummy with a sinister smile painted crudely on its wood-grained face.
Without breaking stride, Hercules vaulted toward the model enemy and splintered it with one blow from his fist. It crumbled against his knuckles and fell to dust as he stepped over its resting place. He skidded to a halt before Phil, this time planting his fists on his sides and waiting for praise.
Phil folded his arms as if Hercules's triumph challenged his pride. "You think you're done? That was the first twenty! If that wasn't too hard for you, you can give me two hundred!"
How tedious. "Just running? Nothing else to do? My mind will be mush before I ever tire. You have plenty of challenges available to place before me! Why not show me how clever you are at creating obstacles? Let me measure my prowess against yours, wit for wit."
'You tellin' me you're already thinkin' strategy?" Phil raised a bushy brow and stroked his goatee in thought. He sank deep into thought and mumbled to himself. When he appeared to decide, he bleated and snapped his fingers.
"I want ya to count how many times you can lift the five thousand pound weights while I get yer course set up. I usually give graduates this challenge, but you're so eager. Why shouldn't I let you see what I got?" Phil didn't wait for Hercules to reply. He was a man with a mission, and his hooves led him into the shadowed arches of the arena.
Calm rested on Hercules's shoulders like the touch of his new favorite person. He could envision himself closer to the goal every moment. He could all but taste the sunlight atop Olympus!
A door creaked open, and Hercules's senses honed in on that noise. As he'd hoped and suspected, Megara had entered, combing her fingers through her cloudy mass of auburn curls.
"Meg!" Hercules practically sang her name, pivoting while balancing on one foot away from Phil and bounding over to her. Before he reached her, Hercules noted that she had a slightly apprehensive expression, but he caught her up in his arms regardless. He caught her up and spun her while exclaiming, "This morning has been fun, but now you're here!"
Megara flailed her arms around and squawked, "Herc! The sweat! I just woke up!"
Abashed at the realization that he'd offended her sensibilities, Hercules gently settled Megara back on her feet. "Sorry," he mumbled.
"Gee, when're ya gonna get used to sweat, sweet cheeks?" Phil teased.
Megara whipped around to confront Phil so quickly that Hercules had to hustle to intervene. She'd drawn a harsh breath to bite back, but Hercules stepped between them.
"Princesses aren't wrong for their preferences," Hercules said in a gentle, placating voice to Megara, then turned back to Phil. "I've got a pretty short list of flaws I'll admit to, but anger and jealousy are at the top. Go on, test me."
"I should go," Megara said quietly. "I just came to tell you I'm too sore and tired to participate today, but maybe I should have stayed away so you wouldn't have a conflict because of me."
"No, no!" Hercules whirled around, forgetting all about his sweat and her reaction to it, so he scooped her into his arms and rushed into the dining area. He settled her on the couch and laid out all the food he'd set aside for her. "Don't leave yet, please?" he invitingly nudged the food closer to her. "I'm sorry for what he said and for being all sweaty, but where're ya going?" He knew there was a hint of a pout forming on his features, but he couldn't stop it. He'd gotten too used to her being around. He wasn't sure what to do without her.
While she obliged and began to pick at her breakfast, she spoke in a low voice to avoid Phil overhearing them. "I hear there are some nymphs on the island. Maybe I'll befriend them and learn some tricks that'll make me useful around here."
"You're useful," Hercules said firmly, undaunted, when she gave him a skeptical look. "Really! You keep me motivated, and you cheer me up when Phil's a-" Hercules glanced around, knowing he'd get punished if he heard a whiff of disparagement in this conversation. "Anyway, don't be down on yourself just because we haven't found your talent yet."
"I think I've figured it out." Megara scooped barley salad into a pile for her to pick away at, mesmerizing him with the graceful motions of her fingers. "I'm a talker. I approach situations diplomatically and find compromises, and in lots of cases, I prove that people already agree with me. All this running around may help with my stamina keeping up with you-"
"Your stamina is fine!" Hercules protested.
Megara shot him a smirk under hooded eyes but didn't comment on his protestation. "I'm not about to match you physically in that way. That's not my job. I get to do the fun part."
"I dunno, swords and archery are pretty fun. I don't want you to miss out."
"I get to watch you, and trust me, as far as fun goes, I win every time." She winked, then took a dainty bite of roasted skewer that made his head spin. "But for my power to work, I need friends. I think if I can make some powerful connections while you're building up your powerful body, the both of us can make some real progress on this island."
How did she still get him blushing? "Oh, well... hey, that's a good point... so, um... you're- you're going now?"
"Not just yet," she purred, abandoning the last table scraps to scoot closer to him. "I think I gave you the wrong impression earlier. You think you disgust me, don't you?"
A tremor shook through Hercules's bones and he shied away, leaning back as she bent closer to him as if to spare her the smell. "I... I um..." he had words in his brain somewhere, but where'd they go?
"Get as sweaty as you want, I don't mind. I just didn't want Phil to get any ideas." She lightly flicked her fingers against his knee, which made him accidentally jerk his leg away from the surprise. "You go do what you're best at, and I'll do what I'm good at. Then we'll get some time alone together and talk about it. Doesn't that sound fun?"
Hercules's inner voice screamed at him to regain his composure and impress her somehow. For a desperate moment he didn't think he could, but at last, he cleared his throat and smiled. "I thought you hated people."
"Nymphs," Megara emphasized, walking her fingers up his chest, "are not people. Besides. I hate everything a little less because of you. So maybe we're already a good team, huh?"
"We're a great team!" Hercules caught her hand and kissed it. "You finish up. I'm pretty sure if I stay a second longer, you'll get me out of my armor." He slid further down the bench to make his escape.
"Would that be so bad?" Megara asked, crossing her legs as if she knew exactly how much he admired them, bruises and all.
"No." Hercules winked at her, "But it might take up the rest of the day, and we both have work to do, right?"
"Say the word, and I drop everything for you," she shrugged.
"Heh," Hercules leaned in the door to give her one more once-over. "I'll take you up on that when we're both feeling better. Don't have so much fun you forget about me while you're out there."
She rolled her eyes and toyed with the remains of breakfast, somehow making the last few bites linger specifically for his benefit. "Don't worry. After a day around nymphs, I'll crave some interesting conversations. You'll have my full attention tonight."
Hercules snickered, and she joined him. It was almost like their own language, and it gave him a thrill that got his feet moving. "You bet I will," he said, then darted off to see what Phil had waiting for him.