Homecoming - Atlantis Fanfic
Icarus had two people in his life that he loved.
Both of them were brilliant, fascinating, intriguing and, in many ways quite mad.
It was, he knew, quite possible that in settling down with Pythagoras, he had picked a man far too much like his father. People did that, he’d heard, chose partners who had similar qualities to their parents. Pythagoras wasn’t as insane as Daedalus, but then that wasn’t possible. Nobody was as insane as Daedalus. In many ways Pythagoras was very sensible. But he and his friends were good at finding trouble, and during the past few years that trouble had found Icarus as well.
Now, finally it was over. They had returned to Atlantis, liberated the people from Pasiphae’s cruel dictatorship and restored the rightful king and queen to the throne. Jason and Ariadne were at the palace and he doubted he would see them again for quite some time. Instead, he was heading home, walking through the old familiar streets to his father’s house, Pythagoras at his side.
Icarus was nervous at the thought of seeing his father again. Nothing Icarus had ever done had been good enough for him, except possibly his choice of life partner. It had been over two years since he had left Atlantis, two years since he had last seen his father.
“Daedalus is alive,” Pythagoras assured him. “I heard a shopkeeper complaining about one of his new inventions as we passed. Do not fear, we will find him well, I am certain of it. Your father is a clever man, and will have survived these grim years.”
It was true. Icarus had heard stories whilst they were travelling, tales of Daedalus helping revolutionaries escape the city, and had asked after him as soon as the Argo had docked. He had worried at first that his father would have been captured again and executed because of Icarus’ part in Jason’s escape, but that had not happened and Icarus was glad of that mercy at least.
“I know,” Icarus said, shifting his pack onto his other shoulder, trying to ease the load. Everything he owned was in that pack, and it didn’t amount to much. But it was heavy, and he was tired. The thought of a night in his bed in his father’s house was more than appealing. First, though, he would have to face his father.
“Yet you are worried, my love, I can see it in your face.”
They were in the street next to Daedalus’ home now. Icarus slowed, then stopped. “I am concerned about how I shall be received. I have always disappointed my father.”
Pythagoras frowned. “Not now, surely? He will be proud. I know your father, we have long been friends.”
“But that was before,” Icarus sighed.
“Before?”
“Before I left home. Before many things. Before us.” He paused. “He probably believes that I fled the city like a coward.”
Pythagoras looked affronted on Icarus’ behalf. “I am quite sure that he does not. I am certain that he is proud of his son for becoming one of the famed Argonauts.”
“Hardly famed. My exploits are not the stuff of legend. I expect people will forget I was even there.”
“I will not forget,” Pythagoras promised him fondly. “But alas, we shall have no children to cherish our memories, and we will both be forgotten over time.”
“Another way I have failed you.”
“Ah no,” Pythagoras smiled fondly. “You make my life complete. Never think you have failed me. We know, in our hearts, who we are and what we did.”
“Yes,” Icarus said bitterly. “I know. I know I hid beneath the deck when we reached the Doliones and the giants came for us. Hercules was the one who saved us, holding them off until Jason’s return. I was not brave.”
“They were truly a frightening sight.”
Yes. Icarus still had nightmares about them, but he wasn’t going to tell his brave partner that. And there were other things he was ashamed of.
“When we faced the Harpies, I hid at the back of the group. You stood with Jason at the front. You said nothing of it, but you must have been ashamed.”
“I prefer it when you are not in danger. Indeed, until now I had believed you ran back to protect the queen.”
He was probably just saying that to make Icarus feel better. Pythagoras was always doing that. He was kinder than Icarus deserved. “Oh yes, the queen. I almost helped Medea come between Jason and Ariadne. That was practically treason.”
“It was a misunderstanding. They are friends now. And again it is not the story Daedalus will hear.”
“He probably already knows. And I tried to steal the Golden Fleece. I do not believe that King Jason has entirely forgiven me for that.”
“But that was to save me. You were being blackmailed. Jason understands, truly he does.”
“Perhaps. But my father will not like it.”
Pythagoras sighed, and Icarus feared he was exasperating him. It had to be tiresome, being as clever and brilliant as Pythagoras and having tied himself so firmly to a fool like Icarus. “We will tell him only the good things. How you helped me lead the Argonauts away from the Isle of Lemnos, where they might have stayed for all their days, happy with the women there.”
“But only because you tempt me far more than those women ever could,” Icarus pointed out. “He will not be fooled.”
“You helped us row through the clashing rocks. Even when you were injured, you still rowed on. I believe you rowed with more determination than any of us.”
“Indeed. I was determined not to be crushed by the rocks! And my father will know that.”
Pythagoras did actually look a little annoyed now. “It is not the story I shall tell him. I shall tell him of the battle with the spartoi, how you saved so many of us from those children of the dragon’s teeth.”
“Yes, with the last of his fire powder. He will claim that victory as his own.”
“And what of the time when you climbed up on the mast to repair it when Talos was casting huge stones at the ship? That was truly brave, even Jason said so. Why will you not believe this?”
“Euphemus shouted instructions to me. And Medea saved us that time, it was she who slew Talos with her magic.”
“Neither of them climbed the mast, however. That was you alone. Come now, enough of this. You have done well and I hate to see your confidence fade just because you have returned home.” Pythagoras placed a hand on the small of his back, gently guiding him forward. “I for one would like a night in a decent bed, and food which is not salted beef or dried biscuits. And I would like to see my old friend again. If you fear him so, I will go first and face your father.”
“He would rather see you anyway,” Icarus said sadly, knowing it to be true. But he let himself be persuaded, and walked down the last familiar street, seeing the door to his father’s house ahead of them.
Pythagoras smiled at him reassuringly. “Journey’s end,” he said. “It will be fine.” And then he rapped on the door.
There was muttering and grumbling from inside, and the sound of the gears and cogs of the door mechanism drawing open. Then the door opened to reveal Icarus’ father.
Daedalus had changed very little. Slightly older, a little greyer and thinner, but there was still that mischievous twinkle in his eye the moment he saw Pythagoras, grasping his friend’s hand and pulling him inside.
“You’re back!”
But he wasn’t looking at Pythagoras. He was looking past him, concerned, then his face split into a huge smile when he saw his son. It lasted less than a heartbeat, and then Icarus found himself caught up in a huge bear hug.
“Icarus! My boy, you’re safe! Thank the gods!”
Icarus didn’t say anything, too shocked and pleased. He looked over his father’s shoulder at Pythagoras, who was watching them with a smile, having stepped aside quickly to get out of Daedalus’ way.
“Yes,” Pythagoras said. “We’re back.”
Icarus had two people in his life that he loved.
Both of them were brilliant, fascinating, intriguing and, in many ways quite mad.
And he wasn’t quite sure why, but they also both loved him, very much.
Both of them were brilliant, fascinating, intriguing and, in many ways quite mad.
It was, he knew, quite possible that in settling down with Pythagoras, he had picked a man far too much like his father. People did that, he’d heard, chose partners who had similar qualities to their parents. Pythagoras wasn’t as insane as Daedalus, but then that wasn’t possible. Nobody was as insane as Daedalus. In many ways Pythagoras was very sensible. But he and his friends were good at finding trouble, and during the past few years that trouble had found Icarus as well.
Now, finally it was over. They had returned to Atlantis, liberated the people from Pasiphae’s cruel dictatorship and restored the rightful king and queen to the throne. Jason and Ariadne were at the palace and he doubted he would see them again for quite some time. Instead, he was heading home, walking through the old familiar streets to his father’s house, Pythagoras at his side.
Icarus was nervous at the thought of seeing his father again. Nothing Icarus had ever done had been good enough for him, except possibly his choice of life partner. It had been over two years since he had left Atlantis, two years since he had last seen his father.
“Daedalus is alive,” Pythagoras assured him. “I heard a shopkeeper complaining about one of his new inventions as we passed. Do not fear, we will find him well, I am certain of it. Your father is a clever man, and will have survived these grim years.”
It was true. Icarus had heard stories whilst they were travelling, tales of Daedalus helping revolutionaries escape the city, and had asked after him as soon as the Argo had docked. He had worried at first that his father would have been captured again and executed because of Icarus’ part in Jason’s escape, but that had not happened and Icarus was glad of that mercy at least.
“I know,” Icarus said, shifting his pack onto his other shoulder, trying to ease the load. Everything he owned was in that pack, and it didn’t amount to much. But it was heavy, and he was tired. The thought of a night in his bed in his father’s house was more than appealing. First, though, he would have to face his father.
“Yet you are worried, my love, I can see it in your face.”
They were in the street next to Daedalus’ home now. Icarus slowed, then stopped. “I am concerned about how I shall be received. I have always disappointed my father.”
Pythagoras frowned. “Not now, surely? He will be proud. I know your father, we have long been friends.”
“But that was before,” Icarus sighed.
“Before?”
“Before I left home. Before many things. Before us.” He paused. “He probably believes that I fled the city like a coward.”
Pythagoras looked affronted on Icarus’ behalf. “I am quite sure that he does not. I am certain that he is proud of his son for becoming one of the famed Argonauts.”
“Hardly famed. My exploits are not the stuff of legend. I expect people will forget I was even there.”
“I will not forget,” Pythagoras promised him fondly. “But alas, we shall have no children to cherish our memories, and we will both be forgotten over time.”
“Another way I have failed you.”
“Ah no,” Pythagoras smiled fondly. “You make my life complete. Never think you have failed me. We know, in our hearts, who we are and what we did.”
“Yes,” Icarus said bitterly. “I know. I know I hid beneath the deck when we reached the Doliones and the giants came for us. Hercules was the one who saved us, holding them off until Jason’s return. I was not brave.”
“They were truly a frightening sight.”
Yes. Icarus still had nightmares about them, but he wasn’t going to tell his brave partner that. And there were other things he was ashamed of.
“When we faced the Harpies, I hid at the back of the group. You stood with Jason at the front. You said nothing of it, but you must have been ashamed.”
“I prefer it when you are not in danger. Indeed, until now I had believed you ran back to protect the queen.”
He was probably just saying that to make Icarus feel better. Pythagoras was always doing that. He was kinder than Icarus deserved. “Oh yes, the queen. I almost helped Medea come between Jason and Ariadne. That was practically treason.”
“It was a misunderstanding. They are friends now. And again it is not the story Daedalus will hear.”
“He probably already knows. And I tried to steal the Golden Fleece. I do not believe that King Jason has entirely forgiven me for that.”
“But that was to save me. You were being blackmailed. Jason understands, truly he does.”
“Perhaps. But my father will not like it.”
Pythagoras sighed, and Icarus feared he was exasperating him. It had to be tiresome, being as clever and brilliant as Pythagoras and having tied himself so firmly to a fool like Icarus. “We will tell him only the good things. How you helped me lead the Argonauts away from the Isle of Lemnos, where they might have stayed for all their days, happy with the women there.”
“But only because you tempt me far more than those women ever could,” Icarus pointed out. “He will not be fooled.”
“You helped us row through the clashing rocks. Even when you were injured, you still rowed on. I believe you rowed with more determination than any of us.”
“Indeed. I was determined not to be crushed by the rocks! And my father will know that.”
Pythagoras did actually look a little annoyed now. “It is not the story I shall tell him. I shall tell him of the battle with the spartoi, how you saved so many of us from those children of the dragon’s teeth.”
“Yes, with the last of his fire powder. He will claim that victory as his own.”
“And what of the time when you climbed up on the mast to repair it when Talos was casting huge stones at the ship? That was truly brave, even Jason said so. Why will you not believe this?”
“Euphemus shouted instructions to me. And Medea saved us that time, it was she who slew Talos with her magic.”
“Neither of them climbed the mast, however. That was you alone. Come now, enough of this. You have done well and I hate to see your confidence fade just because you have returned home.” Pythagoras placed a hand on the small of his back, gently guiding him forward. “I for one would like a night in a decent bed, and food which is not salted beef or dried biscuits. And I would like to see my old friend again. If you fear him so, I will go first and face your father.”
“He would rather see you anyway,” Icarus said sadly, knowing it to be true. But he let himself be persuaded, and walked down the last familiar street, seeing the door to his father’s house ahead of them.
Pythagoras smiled at him reassuringly. “Journey’s end,” he said. “It will be fine.” And then he rapped on the door.
There was muttering and grumbling from inside, and the sound of the gears and cogs of the door mechanism drawing open. Then the door opened to reveal Icarus’ father.
Daedalus had changed very little. Slightly older, a little greyer and thinner, but there was still that mischievous twinkle in his eye the moment he saw Pythagoras, grasping his friend’s hand and pulling him inside.
“You’re back!”
But he wasn’t looking at Pythagoras. He was looking past him, concerned, then his face split into a huge smile when he saw his son. It lasted less than a heartbeat, and then Icarus found himself caught up in a huge bear hug.
“Icarus! My boy, you’re safe! Thank the gods!”
Icarus didn’t say anything, too shocked and pleased. He looked over his father’s shoulder at Pythagoras, who was watching them with a smile, having stepped aside quickly to get out of Daedalus’ way.
“Yes,” Pythagoras said. “We’re back.”
Icarus had two people in his life that he loved.
Both of them were brilliant, fascinating, intriguing and, in many ways quite mad.
And he wasn’t quite sure why, but they also both loved him, very much.