Alcide's Regret - A Hero's Blessing

Author's Note: This is a future scene I've written for when the questers reach San Francisco. Herakles finds out about Zoe's past, and becomes rather upset by it, so he does what he can to make up for it by giving her the Noble Phantasm of his Ninth Labor - Hippolyta's Girdle. 

He stared at the sash in his hand, its familiar power attempting to connect with his own.

He hated it.

Or, rather, he hated what it symbolized to him.

His result of his ninth labour. ‘The War God’s Military Sash’.

It’s mere presence seemed to cause Zoe to stumble back in shock. “W-what is that?” She murmured in uncharacteristic shock.

The question almost made him chuckle. Not that he could blame her - the artifact was practically drenched in divinity, as if it had been in the hands of the gods for years.

“The banner of a powerful and noble Queen.” He replied solemnly as he eyed the rather plain fabric, memories of it being worn around a woman’s arm surging through his mind. “Though you might know of it as Hippolyta’s Girdle.”

He ignored her confusion as he sighed.

He had come to request the banner, a powerful relic. He knew the reputation of the Amazons, and the way his other labours had gone. He had been prepared for a complication.

Instead the Queen had asked for a conversation.

During the negotiations, his respect for Hippolyta had grown. She was a strong, that much was obvious, but what was even more impressive was how shrewd a negotiator she was.

The way she drew things out to allow the heroes that accompanied him time to ‘mingle’ with the other Amazons while they were in talks was rather amusing.

She certainly made no mystery of it - her people prided themselves on their strength. Therefore, they desired strong children.

And she hadn’t stopped there. A trade agreement and alliance with a powerful city-state had been written up, and while favorable to both parties, Themiskyra would be doing quite well for itself.

He had been generous, hoping for a peaceful conclusion to his labor.

And, if he were honest with himself, he had developed a bit of a crush on the Queen. The first he had truly had since his wife and kids were killed.

It wasn’t love - they hadn’t know each other long enough for that - but he could see the possibility of it growing into that. He had felt hope.

And then Hera happened.

When the fighting occurred, he had been hurt that she had betrayed him, that his feelings were getting his men killed.

It took a long time before he learned that Hippolyta had not betrayed them. That it was not their fault, but the fault of a Goddess who couldn’t leave well enough alone.

It was why he refused to use it himself. Since that day, this banner became a symbol of how yet again, he became the killer of his own happiness.

He eyed Artemis’ lieutenant thoughtfully.

It was a horrible reminder to him. But not to anybody else.

Not just anybody could use a Noble Phantasm of course. One needed to be attuned to them, to sympathize with their legends.

But Zoe was hardly ‘anybody’, was she?

The leader of a group of strong women, one with divine blood that had lived during the times of Ancient Greece. Hippolyta had been a priestess of Artemis, and Zoe was practically one in all but name. Both had been betrayed by the ‘same’ foolish hero.

No, there were enough parallels. He had a feeling that the Banner would work for Miss Nightshade just fine.

It wouldn’t make up for what he had done to Hippolyta. It wouldn’t make up for what the fool that was his doppelgänger had done (nor would he accept responsibility for what his alternate had done).

But maybe it would help.

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Zoe's POV

It was impossible. So impossible, she was tempted to laugh.

She had seen the so-called ‘Hippolyta’s Girdle’. It was a golden belt with interlocking gold links, containing the blessing of Ares.

It was NOT a banner that exuded enough divinity to pass off as Artemis’ personal weapons!

The banner itself was red with a rather simplistic pattern. It looked nothing like the Girdle. And yet there was something in the conviction in Alcides' voice that stopped her objection.

And in all honesty, she had no idea what it was.

She was so shocked that she didn’t realize when Alcides took a step towards her and draped the fabric over her shoulders.

She was about to snarl at him, outraged at his action, when she stumbled at the power that seemed to flow through her.

And with it, a faint voice.

“May Artemis hear our prayers, and grant this people her blessings. May Ares grant us strength in battle, and Hera her guidance.

“I swear I shall do everything in my power to see Themiskyra thrive.”

She felt power flow through her, as if Artemis had given her another blessing. Her entire body shuddering with the sensation, her very blood singing as if it had been given a boost.

No, more than that - her connection to the divinity given to her by her parents had increased for the first time in two thousand years. She could feel the connection of the ocean strengthening, her strength increasing to even greater heights. 

But... How was this possible? 

“Wrap it around your arms,” Alcides rumbled, the words reminding her that she wasn’t alone. “It’ll keep it out of the way. Use it for a little bit, practice, and get used to it. We’ll have a long day tomorrow after all.”

She looked up to see the man leaving, and she frowned. “And where are you going?” She managed to ask.

He paused briefly at the door. “I need to ask somebody some questions.” he replied eventually.

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Nereus's POV

Nereus had just finished packing up his goods when he saw the big demigod return. He let out a scoff, “What, ya hard of hearing or hard of thinking? Only one question per group.”

The man continued to come closer. When Nereus figured he was just out of reach he turned his scowl towards the man and backed up, preparing to shift. “Look, didn’t you hear me? I said - hey!“

With unnatural speed, a hand came and clasped Nereus’ arm tightly.

“Nereus.”

All thoughts of complaint, and his body instinctually froze at the sight of those eyes.

He had originally thought the man to be a babysitter to the itty-bitty demigods, had put him out of his mind.

Now, his voice thrummed with barely contained violence, power lurking under the skin. Familiar power.

… What was this?

Nereus was the god of the sea’s bounty of fish. The Old Man of the Sea. He had been around the block, before even Poseidon, and was even considered a prophet by some. And he listened.

When the fish gossiped, when the birds gossiped, or when the people gossiped. He was there, listening and learning. He was The Who’s-Who of the Greek World.

So who was he?!

“Tell me a tale, Old Man.”

Gods or Titans, heroes or villains, spirit or Demi-human, none of that mattered. Anybody that was worth knowing, he knew. If he didn’t know about them, he could divine it.

But he couldn’t understand this.

Hercules was guarding the gates to the old world in the Mediterranean…

“Tell me everything you know of Hercules.”

So who was standing in front of him right now?