Disclaimer - Hercules and Iolaus are the property of Universal and Renaissance Pictures and no attempt is made to infringe the copyright thereof. We are just borrowing them and will give them back at the end of the story!


PLEA FROM WITHIN

by Martine Barratt

Part two - A LOVER'S RESPONSE

Iolaus sat solemnly upon a rock, knuckles white, eyes glistening, caught in the breaking dawn. A shadow blocks his view and he hastily wipes a finger 'neath one eye, composing himself before turning to the shadow-maker. Head bowed, he feels the hand that turns his face upward, gently caressing his dampened skin. The shape hunkers down, uncurls the hunter's tight fist and presses something into it before kissing him full on the mouth and swiftly retreating.

He is alone.

Sighing, he opens the parchment with trembling hands, and begins to read:

"I am in torment.

Until this morn I thought I knew the true name of love; the assumed name of laughter and the identity of passion - I was wrong, wasn't I? All becomes clear with the light of a new born day.

Have I wronged you somehow, because that I couldn't bear? When I turn away don't blame yourself, it is my shame not yours. Shame for I cannot tell you how I ache for your touch. Swear to me you trust me or kindness will be your undoing and we must have no secrets to step forth from this place we now find ourselves in. The cliff is steep but with your strength and love, I have no thought of dying.

If two people were meant as one, then we are they. I would enfold you as you desire but I fear that I may crush the one, most precious thing in my life. You burn brightest at my side but I would stoke the fires with you beneath me, feel you erupt and bathe me in your essence. You are not the moon, Iolaus, but the warm and vibrant sun. And I would have you and yes - possess you; body and soul. Will you place yourself in peril?

One day, I know not when, I will tell you that you are my hero. I worship you but cannot utter one word that would bind you to me. This I have written in full knowledge that you will read it, but you must forget, have to forget, as revealing this part of myself hurts too much, tears strips from my protection; claws at my heart. Though you will remember, you must promise not to show it in your eyes, for this truth can wound much deeper than any steel.

We cannot choose what we become, I have made you (so you say) but you must know that you have fashioned me in your likeness also.

Oh greedy mortal would you keep me for yourself? Can there be no room in my life for another? No, do not answer. You and I both know the truth of that. There are no others who live life with such intensity, pure bright - only you my glorious, insatiable hearts' twin.

If you feel this way about me, how do I match the depth of your desire? Tell me now for I will willingly strip myself for your judgement. The pain sits here, within my heart, whose sole purpose is to beat for you. My blood would be a sacrifice. Should you ask it of me, I would willingly open my veins. I am in your debt, for you have died for me and while I know you seek no payment you must know I offer everything.

I can't show you in this life what gifts you have given me; each day a precious thing to be treasured. You have taken a selfish youth and fashioned a human being, praise indeed for one who isn't a god. And I thank Zeus that you are not, for what do gods know of the bond we share?

If you would have me, then I would gladly partake of the splendour of your body and the complexities of your mind, for we are joined already. Let me bend my head and taste your beauty, arch my back and proclaim you mine; etch your gasps upon my ears. I beg to ride the golden rays of your moaning ecstasy and in return offer what you seek, what *we* cannot live without.

I hear your voice in everything I do, when you are far away breathing becomes hard - separation - agony. I may move, speak, act and work, but you are always shadowing me my love, behind the mask it's you who takes the lead in our little play. Without you, there is no act, no lines can be spoken, no prompt to guide and no final bow. You are epic, tragedy, comedy and prose.

Trap me within your wings and press me to your bosom as I would crush you to mine. And when the hemp parts to reveal your wanton flesh, remember, as you scream, that you wanted this. Feel me quiver against you, match my length against your shaft. Be master and slave; make me come to the sound of your heartbeat alone.

And if one day, we should be parted, don't be deceived by my face, the agony will never leave, for I would have lost the best part of myself and the world the truest love that ever was.

Yes, I worship you still. I would not, couldn't not, turn away. We are undying.

Seek me out and let the banquet commence.

I am you.

Hercules"

********
A silent tear blurs the charcoal, the grains merging to become unreadable. With care, Iolaus rolls the precious gift and clasps it to his chest. His eyes drift towards the last place he saw his lover. The meal is about to begin...

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