Fortune's Fool – chapter 12.

I've recently acquired the rights to BBC's Atlantis – no wait! Oh, no…sorry. I haven't. Standard disclaimer still applies, then.

Well, this is the end! Thank you SO much to those who have joined me for the ride and especially those lovely kind people who reviewed chapter 11 and helped keep the motivation going! I'd love to know what people think of the end. Please enjoy!

Chapter 12

When Jason opened his eyes, he was surprised to see sunlight glowing brightly through the makeshift curtain. He blinked, lazily and tried to get his bearings. With a flush of embarrassment, Jason dimly recalled crying himself to sleep. He had poured his heart and soul out, crying for things he wasn't even sure he could define: for his friends, for his father and the long years of absence, for every instance of pain in his life that he had stowed away and left unacknowledged. He hadn't meant to let it out but once the first had pushed its way past his defences, Jason couldn't hold back the torrent.

Jason didn't know when Hercules had left. He had vague memories of the older man's presence: running a hand through his hair; occasionally murmuring quiet, comforting noises. Mostly Hercules had just leaned against the wall and sat with him, content to let him cry and let silent companionship soothe his wounds. Again, his face burned hot at the memory, at the humiliation. What must his friend have thought of him? How on Earth was he supposed to face him again?

Outside, he could hear the quiet voices of his friends moving around the room. It sounded as though Pythagoras was neatly stowing away the utensils from their meal the day before and generally busying himself with tidying up the house. Hercules made occasional observations which may or may not have been useful. Jason listened to their morning bustle with a heavy heart.

He would miss it. What would mornings at the palace sound like? Would there be anyone to greet him when he got up? Anyone who would look at him as though they were glad to see him? As though he had somehow helped to brighten their day? Jason hadn't really felt that way before meeting his friends – his family.

Suddenly, Jason snapped himself back to the present. He had only two days left before he had to leave and he would be damned if he would spend them wallowing in his bed. He swung his legs out of bed and stood, stretching out the kinks in his back and rotating his stiff neck. He had obviously been lying at a funny angle, he mused.

The mornings were starting to feel a little nippier so he found a pair of sandals to slip on before going to join his friends.

"Morning, Jason!" Pythagoras exclaimed, brightly as soon as he emerged into view. His friend was smiling warmly at him but for a moment, Jason froze. What if Hercules had told Pythagoras? It wasn't that Jason particularly objected to his blonde friend knowing about his little breakdown the night before, but the fewer people who knew, the better. He was mortified enough as it was.

However, Pythagoras' look was not appraising or searching or in any way layered in meaning as it would have been had he known of last night's incident. So Jason just returned the smile and sauntered into the living room with an air of confidence that he did not feel.

From across the room, Hercules gave him a short nod. "Morning, Jason," he remarked, casually. Jason shot a shy, tentative look to the bigger man and suddenly wished he had pockets that he could shove his hands into. He ducked his head.

"Morning," he returned, praying Hercules was not going to make a comment about that night. But after a moment longer, Jason released his breath and felt his shoulders sag in relief.

Hercules simply busied himself with counting out the coins in his purse, shaking them out onto the table and sliding them, one by one, into neat piles. He did that, once or twice a week, usually to gauge how many gambling or wrestling contests he was going to have to enter, in order to keep up the house-keeping. And the wine.

It would be harder still without his money from the docks, Jason suddenly realised. He looked over at the coins: the stacks were not very high.

"Would you like some breakfast?" he heard Pythagoras ask and turned to the voice. His friend was setting out a modest selection of fruit and bread from what Jason had always thought of as their kitchen area.

Jason considered the question: was he hungry? It only seemed like five minutes ago that they had all shared a substantial feast together around that very table. Besides, he was too nervous to eat, knowing what conversation lay ahead of him.

He shook his head. "No thanks."

A deep throat suddenly cleared, gruffly, from off to the side of him. Jason half-turned to see Hercules, still looking at his coins even though his meaning was clear enough. Jason sighed. "I'm really not hungry," he protested.

With one hand, Hercules swept the coins back into his leather purse and drew the strings tightly about the neck. With his other hand, he pointed to the bench opposite him, fixing Jason with a hard, unwavering stare.

Jason felt rebellion prickle at him. "I'm not hungry," he repeated, a little more forcefully. For all his bravado, when Hercules raised an eyebrow at him, Jason felt his cheeks redden.

"I didn't ask if you were hungry," Hercules replied, his voice firm but calm. "Sit."

From the kitchen, Pythagoras began to look worried. Jason hated it when Pythagoras worried. So, he dragged his feet to the table and sat down heavily on the opposite bench. Pythagoras approached with food and plates and Hercules, having made no point of winning the argument, took a plate from the top and began to help himself to the contents of the fruit, cheese and bread bowls.

Pythagoras did the same and, after a moment, Hercules silently took the last remaining plate and placed it in front of the brunette boy. Jason's stomach still flipped and twisted painfully and he eyed the plate, mutinously.

"If you're still feeling out of sorts," Pythagoras said gently, having seated himself next to Hercules, "some food and drink really will help to balance you." He smiled, kindly at Jason though worry still hovered in his blue eyes.

Hercules' ministrations were far less enticing. He plucked up some grapes, cut off a small amount of cheese and tore off a modest corner of bread. Then he dumped the lot on Jason's plate, with a resounding clatter. Pythagoras gave a small jump and cast a glance at both his friends as he began to chew his food, nervously. Jason just stared, wide-eyed at his plate. In reality, it truly wasn't much: but to the young man, it looked like a mountain.

"All of it," Hercules barked shortly, eyes returning to his own meal, even as he addressed Jason, " before you leave the table."

Jason felt control begin to slip away from him and panic rise in his chest. He so desperately needed some control but it was being stolen away from him, slowly, methodically, inch by inch. There would be nothing left soon – nothing for him to decide for himself. No free-will, no identity. He felt his eyes start to burn and prick with tears and then hated himself for his weakness.

Instinctively, Jason knew it wasn't his friends' caring over his eating habits that was bothering him – he understood this. In a way, he even appreciated their concern. But the feelings of helpless frustration melted into one large, bubbling crock pot.

He swallowed hard and gave a slow, faint nod. He brought a grape to his lips and slid it into his mouth: it felt cold and somehow repulsive but he continued to chew, forcing the pulp down his gullet.

Hercules narrowed his eyes but said nothing, content that, at least for now, the boy was compliant.

Across from him, he could feel Pythagoras' stare. "I can make you a tonic," he offered, "if you're not feeling well?"

Quickly, Jason shook his head. "I'm fine. Thanks."

He ducked his head again and began to play with the food on his plate, shredding the bread into small pieces as his mind travelled on ahead to broaching the conversation he was dreading.

Hercules glanced up at him and almost smiled, fondly. Jason's hair was all but in his eyes when his head was bowed: the boy needed a haircut at the first opportunity. Only ruffians and miscreants wore their hair that long.

"So, Jason," Pythagoras suddenly announced. Jason started and instinctively shoved a morsel of bread in his mouth. When he looked up to his friend, Pythagoras was giving him a rather strange look and he immediately gave an embarrassed smile.

"Sorry," he muttered, not really sure what he was apologising for.

But Pythagoras just grinned and waved it off. "I was just going to say that, after all the chaos from yesterday and my…" he trailed off, looking slightly embarrassed. "My somewhat compromised state."

"You mean drunkenness?" Jason asked, a smile of his own starting to spread.

He watched Pythagoras' blush spread across his face and chuckled. It suddenly felt so good – being able to smile and to forget. How easily his friends could distract him from himself.

"Well, yes," Pythagoras agreed, with a glance at Hercules who had given him his own, smug grin. "But I was going to say that I never asked you how everything went with Pasiphae."

Jason froze. And then again, maybe they weren't such good distractions.

Oblivious to this, his young friend continued. "I'm ashamed to say that it simply never occurred to me to ask – I was so overwhelmed with Hercules' safe return." He set honest eyes on Jason. "I'm sorry. Will you tell us now? You were obviously successful, but before you left to meet her, you said she had terms."

At this, Hercules raised an eyebrow. The meaty man put down his chunk of bread and cheese and suddenly gave Jason his full attention.

Jason shuffled uncomfortably. He had been dreading the moment but was oddly grateful to Pythagoras for starting the ball rolling. That was one less obstacle to navigate.

He took a deep breath to steady himself. Then he looked up at them and spoke. "She did. There were…conditions to be fulfilled in order for Hercules to be released."

Pythagoras started to look concerned. None of them were rich men and Jason had nothing to barter with. "Conditions?" he repeated. Jason nodded. "To be fulfilled by who?"

Hercules closed his eyes for a moment and bowed his head.

"By me," Jason admitted, his voice little more than a whisper.

"What do you need to do?" Hercules asked him, quietly.

Jason hesitated. He ran his tongue over his suddenly dry lips. The young man looked down at his plate. "To go to her," he said. "At the Palace."

Pythagoras looked confused. "To visit?"

"To live."

Hercules sighed, heavily and Pythagoras just stared, open-mouthed at him. Seconds ticked by. Jason could feel the room closing in on them.

Forcing a note of joviality into his voice, he continued. "It's not as bad as it sounds!" he insisted. "I mean, it's not every day of the week. I still get three days here."

Hercules was just shaking his head, slowly but Pythagoras became more animated. "I don't understand, Jason," he exclaimed. "How does this arrangement work? What exactly have you agreed to? Surely she can't make you leave us?" Panic had edged into the mathematician's voice, hitching it up a notch. Jason hated to see his friends so distraught but it felt like an odd relief to have someone else share in his dilemma.

"Pythagoras," Hercules said quietly, leaning in to the younger man. "Of course she can do this. Let's be honest: this was going to happen, sooner or later."

"You're not helping, Hercules!" Pythagoras hissed back, angrily. "And I would think you could try to be a bit more helpful, given you're the reason this is happening in the first place." Hercules said nothing but he pressed his lips tightly together and glanced away from them, his shoulders taut.

Jason looked on in dismay: it was unlike Pythagoras to be so scathing. The very last thing he wanted to do was to cause division amongst them all. "I have a document," Jason added, hoping it would help. "A contract… I think. I signed it anyway. It's supposed to outline everything."

"You don't know?" Hercules asked.

Jason shrugged. "I couldn't read it," he admitted. "But Pasiphae told me what it said. Mostly."

Hercules groaned, softly and resisted the urge to thump his own head down onto the table. Or to thump Jason's head down onto the table. Neither would be productive in the long run.

"I can go and get it?" he ventured. "It's under my bed." He half rose to fetch it but paused for a second. "Assuming I can leave the table?" he asked, just a little pedantically.

With an irritated roll of his eyes, Hercules nodded and waved him on.

When he returned, Pythagoras cleared a space on the table and they carefully unrolled the parchment. Pythagoras' eyes widened slightly causing Jason to look at him, concerned. "Can you read it?" he asked. "I was relying on you to tell me what it says. Pasiphae said you'd be able to."

That made the young man pause. He looked up with a surprised smile. "Really? The queen thinks that? She mentioned me?" Jason was about to reply when Hercules abruptly cut in:

"For goodness sake, Pythagoras. She also practices witchcraft and is trying to usurp the throne. I don't think it's necessarily a good thing to be mentioned by her in conversation! Now can we focus please? Can you read it?"

Pythagoras cleared his throat, a little embarrassed. "Yes. I was just a little surprised at its formality." He grinned. "It's so rare to be able to study a royal document," he enthused. "See the crest, here? The local archives have mention of them and once, I had a friend who managed to procure the original…" He trailed off as he saw the slightly impatient expressions of his friends. Giving a short laugh, he continued: "Sorry. Just give me a moment."

He scanned his eyes down the page and as he did so, Jason filled the nervous silence. "Pasiphae said that three days out of every week are to be spent with her, at the palace. Then three days here and one day with Aeson."

Hercules started at that. "Aeson?" he questioned. "What's he got to do with this?"

Jason shrugged, his face clouding.

"He helped Pasiphae arrange the details. I don't know why he had to insist on a day for himself. I would have come to him on my own. Maybe not every week, but still…" His voice trailed off as anger niggled at him. His father's day was only one but Jason found that it stuck the most. Every day with his friends was precious and Aeson had taken a whole other day from him. Despite the very short amount of time, Jason couldn't help but feel resentful.

Hercules patted him awkwardly on the shoulder. "At least you want to see him," he pointed out. "And you never know, maybe he'll let you off a visit every once in a while? I'm sure Pasiphae will hold you to every minute you owe her, but your father could be more reasonable."

Jason looked up and smiled, hopefully at him: "Do you think so?" he asked. "I guess he might. It's not like he wouldn't know I'd make it up to him another time." Then he glanced down, guiltily at the table. "But how are things supposed to carry on the same here when I'm gone half the week? I mean, I can't help you out when you have a job, or…or help carry you home from the tavern…or just take off, randomly when the need arises."

He looked so distraught that Hercules tried hard to mask his muttered: "Well at least some good may come of this, then." But not entirely successfully, judging by the wounded look that Jason shot him.

He sighed. "Things won't be the same, Jason. They can't be. But that doesn't mean we can't make the best of it and enjoy the three days we do have." He stopped suddenly, aware that this was usually Pythagoras' line of argument and not his own. He looked over to his young genius whose eyes still roamed the parchment.

Finally, Pythagoras looked up.

"Well?" Jason asked. He almost held his breath, praying his young friend would not have found anything to dispute all that he'd been told – to make him look like even more of a fool than he already felt. But Pythagoras was just nodding.

"It's as you say," he confirmed. He noted the look of surprise on Hercules' face and shrugged. "I don't know what to say. For once, I was as suspicious as you were but it does appear that Pasiphae has dealt honestly." His jaw hardened and his eyes clouded over. "Not fairly, mind you. She has no right to ask this of you, Jason."

Jason sighed but when he looked into his friend's eyes, he gave him a small smile. "Look, I can't pretend I'm happy about it. About any of it. But it could have been worse." He paused. "Yesterday, it was all pretty overwhelming. I think I thought I was losing myself. You know?" He glanced down, shyly. "But talking about it with you guys…it's made me realise that I can get through this." He risked a glance up and was rewarded with two pairs of honest, caring eyes looking at him. Jason felt himself smile, more warmly.

"It's only for a year. And it's only four days away. Hercules can easily spend a day and a half passed out under an apple cart at any given time."

Pythagoras laughed. "And in the pigsty."

"Oh yeah." A distant grin spread over Jason's face. "I forgot about the pigsty."

"Do you two mind?" Hercules demanded, indignantly.

"And when I get involved in a new project," Pythagoras pointed out, "I can disappear into my studies for days."

"We had noticed," their large friend commented, dryly.

"So it won't be much different," Pythagoras added. ""We all have time away but what's important is that we come back together and make the most of the time we have." Jason grinned at Pythagoras and Hercules looked on somewhat sadly at the two.

The duo talked, animatedly between them now, chatting about this and that and what the palace may be like and what Aeson planned to do with his community and Hercules listened to them with a fond indulgence. Maybe they believed it? Maybe they knew they were fooling themselves? He wasn't sure.

All Hercules could feel, as he looked at his two boys, was worry. Was this it? The foot in the door, the beginning of the end?

He looked at the animation on Pythagoras' face and thought back to the quiet, studious young man who had shared his home before Jason had fallen into their lives: Jason was like a brother to him, a co-conspirator. He had brought out a new side to Pythagoras, a confidence that Hercules prayed would not be diminished as Jason's absence inevitably grew longer. He knew he would do his best to nurture it, but he wasn't the same and he didn't mind admitting it.

And Jason? His heart clenched, watching the dark-haired boy as he gave his lop-sided grin and playfully punched Pythagoras on the arm. He just couldn't shake the feeling that they were sending the boy into a nest of vipers. Ariadne aside, the only person in that palace who wanted him there was an unbalanced mother who had tried, on more than one occasion, to have him killed.

And as for Minos? Even if he didn't want the boy dead (which was yet to be seen), Jason had better watch his step around him. He would not be an understanding stepfather and with the added authority of kingship behind him, there was very little that he could not do. God knows, Jason's mouth could run him into trouble on a daily basis. He only hoped Pasiphae was prepared to fight for her son, if it came down to it.

Hercules looked down at the remains of breakfast on the lad's plate and narrowed his eyes. He had seen men desperate for food and had been glad that he had never had to count himself amongst those ranks. But until he met Jason, he had never seen a person confronted with food and reject it as consistently as the boy did. It wasn't natural. Who would nag him at the palace? Who would sit up with him at night when he had a fever? Or bandage him up after his latest misadventure? Who would he rant to when he had a bad day? Would anyone care? Only one name sprang to mind but there was an awful lot of weight being put on Ariadne.

A wave of protectiveness washed over the burly man. Well, damn it! Jason wasn't there yet.

"All right," he suddenly announced, coming over to stand by them. They glanced up at him and he tapped Jason pointedly on the shoulder. "Break time's over and you've got a meal to finish, I believe."

For a second, the look of shock on Jason's face was priceless. His mouth hung open. Pythagoras burst out laughing. He pulled Jason's plate over to him with an amused smirk and was rewarded with a sarcastic smile from his friend.

Above him, Hercules folded his arms and looked down on Jason, expectantly. Then Jason laughed quietly, shook his head and resumed his breakfast, under the watchful, caring eyes of his friends.

The two days seemed to pass in the blink of an eye. In no time at all, the fourth day had arrived and Jason had set about packing. Or at least, he tried to. He really didn't own many possessions in Atlantis. It had never seemed to bother him because he hadn't been a particularly materialistic person while growing up, either. But even as he surveyed what little he owned, Jason couldn't think what would be useful at the palace. Finally, he settled on a board game that Pythagoras had given him, some dice from Hercules and a change of clothes. The only change of clothes he actually owned.

It all fitted neatly into a small, leather satchel and Jason slung it over one shoulder. Neither Pythagoras nor Hercules would even hear of the idea that Jason would walk to the palace without them though he had succeeded on making them agree to leave him at edge of the market.

And so, as noon approached the three had set off. When they reached their terminus, Jason looked down in surprise, when Hercules thrust a small comb into his hand. He grinned, feeling a little like he was being dropped off for his first day of school.

"Really, Hercules?" he asked, expecting his friend to be gruffly embarrassed. But instead, Hercules bore his resolute expression and Jason mentally sighed, preparing himself for one of the large man's near infamous lectures:

"First impressions matter, Jason!" he insisted, pointing a finger at him.

Jason rolled his eyes. "They've had plenty of impressions of me before now," he pointed out, good-naturedly.

"Not like this one," Hercules insisted. "This is special. You need to be careful. Be on your best behaviour." And seeing his friend's earnest expression, Jason resisted a second eye roll and simply nodded, promising to be the picture of innocence. Hercules snorted and only hoped the boy was taking him seriously.

Then Pythagoras handed Jason a small bag. Jason took it with a question in his eyes. A tempting, spicy aroma wafted out of it. "I made you some honey cakes," Pythagoras explained. "You know, in case you get hungry."

Jason was touched by his friend's thoughtfulness – he truly was. But at the same time, he so desperately wanted to laugh. But that would have hurt the young man's feelings so he simply thanked him and stowed the cakes away into his satchel.

Hercules, however, rolled his eyes. "He's going to get hungry?" he asked, incredulously. "Have you seen the palace kitchens? What about me?"

Pythagoras sighed, tolerantly. "There are some at home for you, too."

That seemed to mollify Hercules.

And then there were no more excuses to stall. So Pythagoras lightly embraced him and patted him on the back. "Take care," he said. "We'll see you in a few days."

Jason grinned at him. "Don't go rearranging the furniture while I'm gone."

Hercules cupped a hand round the back of his neck and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Now don't do anything stupid," he admonished again.

Jason gave him a bashful smile. "Promise."

Then he turned away from them and continued his journey to the Palace, alone. He didn't look back. That was a promise he had made to himself and he was very proud that he was able to keep it. Without his friends, the walk seemed a little more nerve-wracking and the city, a little more like how he remembered it on his first day in Atlantis: strange, alarming; overwhelming.

Guards stood in wait outside the gates to the Palace and Jason instinctively felt for his sword as the urge for fight or flight took hold. But as he approached them, muscles tensed, they simply nodded at him with vague disinterest and stepped aside. Jason cautiously nodded back. He wasn't sure if you were meant to acknowledge guards but it only seemed polite, at least when they weren't trying to kill him.

Jason crossed the threshold of the gates and stopped in the grand, marbled entrance way. Where was he supposed to go? He realised that he didn't have a clue. Should he flag down a nearby servant? He glanced about, dismayed to see no-one nearby. He really didn't want to go exploring.

Well, maybe there was a little part of him that was tempted to wander around. But then again, God knows what forbidden part of the Palace he would inadvertently stumble into. He remembered his promise to Hercules, to stay out of trouble. Absently, his fingers ran over the teeth of the comb and it was only then that he realised he was still holding it.

At that moment, however, he heard the sound of footsteps approaching. Several sets of footsteps. He tensed and turned to the noise, instinctively straightening, even as he wrapped his arms about himself and ducked his head.

From deep within the belly of the palace, Minos emerged, with Pasiphae beside him and Jason sucked in a breath. He hadn't expected the king as part of the welcoming committee. But then, as he registered the sombre, set expression on Minos' face, it dawned on him: he wasn't here to welcome him, he was here to warn him – to let him know, in no uncertain terms, that Jason was now under his roof. His roof, his rules Jason thought and he found the situation strangely amusing.

The royal entourage stopped just short of him and for a moment they all stood facing each other down, like armies poised to strike. Minos did not smile but nor did he frown or scowl. He looked…resolute. Pasiphae kept her emotions closely guarded but when Jason glanced at her, she gave him the slightest of smiles in return.

But it was the king who was commanding his attention. "Jason," he began. Jason immediately felt apprehension flood through him. He just couldn't help it. The king was addressing him. By name. He struggled to pay attention. "You are welcome here," Minos continued though it sounded like anything but. The king paused for a moment and gave him a hard, scrutinising look. Something in his expression soured and Jason shifted a little on the spot, feeling even more uncomfortable.

"I am glad that you have accepted your mother's offer. You have much to learn so I hope you are ready for the task. Your mother will see to your needs and instruct you on what to expect."

Jason wasn't sure how to respond, so he just nodded, praying that wasn't impolite. Or worthy of treason. He glanced to Pasiphae, who was staring at him intently, purposefully. Confused, Jason thought about what the meaning could be. He hazarded a guess and unfolded his arms from around his waist. Her gaze softened immediately.

Minos cleared his throat. "If you listen to your mother and learn from the examples you are shown here, you should do well with us." He hesitated for a moment and when he spoke, his voice was notably softer. "My daughter is….most eager to welcome you to our home, as well."

He paused again and Jason glanced once more to his mother. She looked at him, expectantly. "I'll do my best," he said, quietly. "Thank you, Your Majesty." Jason held the king's gaze for all of five seconds before looking down again.

It seemed to satisfy Minos however because he nodded once then turned, exchanged a genuine smile with his wife and then left the two of them alone.

Once the king had left, Jason simply stared at Pasiphae. Without her husband's scrutiny, she smiled more openly now. She took a step forward and for an awful moment, Jason was afraid she was going to try and hug him. But she did not. "You do have much to learn, Jason," she allowed. "But that will come in due course. For now, it is enough that you are here." Pasiphae reached out and ran a hand along his face. Jason flinched away from her but she didn't seem to take offence.

"My son," she whispered.

Jason gripped the handle of his bag and almost held his breath. "This is just the start of such a wondrous future." Her smile was like honey but her words chilled him to the core. Jason tried not to let his fear show though his heart thudded heavily in his chest.

"I promise you."

Then Pasiphae stepped back and held out one hand in-front of them, indicating the way forwards, into the very heart of the palace. And not knowing what to expect, Jason followed.

THE END

Ok! That's it. The end. Well, at least for this story. If the interest is there, I'd like to continue the action in a following story. Please let me know what you think if you have a spare 60 seconds- even a line or a couple of words, really helps to motivate the muse! Thanks for reading through this far.