I wrote an earlier version of how I thought Iolaus should be made immortal but since then have done research into the "real" Iolaus. For those of you not as familiar with mythology, the story is as follows.
After Deianeira, in a fit of jealousy, unintentionally poisoned Herakles, their son Hyllus helped his father build a funeral pyre and Herakles, who was in agony from the poison, climbed on it. The flames burned away what was mortal and a bolt of lightning took the rest to Olympus and godhood.
Hera was reconciled with him and let him marry her daughter, Hebe, Goddess of Youth.
Some years later, Eurystheus, a king who Hera had arranged to usurp Herakles' birthright by delaying Herakle's birth and rushing Eurytheus', attacked some of the surviving children of Herakles. (He had lots and lots and lots of children.) Iphicles, Herakles' mortal twin brother was killed in a battle against Eurytheus. Now Iphicles' son, Iolaus, who had been charioteer for his famous uncle and even married a cast off wife of Herakles', prayed to be made young for a day so that he could defend his uncle's children.
Hebe granted the wish and she and her husband appeared as stars at the yoke of Iolaus' chariot as he rode into battle and was victorious.
Another tradition has Iolaus leading many of Herakles' sons by the daughters of Thespius (unlike the Hercules in the show, the Herakles of myth slept with all 50 daughters, some say in the same night, and they all conceived children by him) to Sardinia to found a colony. Iolaus was worshipped there as late as the second century A.D. He was also a principal hero of Thebes.
He was often worshipped by young men who pledged to each other in battle and otherwise. So sue me, we're talking about Greeks here.
Oh, and Tithinos was the lover of Eos, goddess of dawn, who asked Zeus to make her lover immortal but forgot to ask to make Tithinos ageless. He got older and older and eventually was turned into the cricket because he could only make a weak chirping sound.

Anyway, I've mashed together myth and the show and come up with. . .

IOLAUS ATHANTOS ESTI

By Amorette

I can hear them, arguing, out in the yard. I recognize their voices. I may be nearly blind but my hearing, at least in one ear, is pretty sharp, even if I am 100 years old. Clutching my staff, I lever myself to my feet and shuffle outside.

If I look straight ahead, all I see is a bluish white mist. I have to turn my head slightly to see anything. I stand just outside the door, head tilted to one side, so I that I can see two large figures, one in black, one in white and brown, blobs against the blur that I see these days.

"This is not," says Ares, sounding furious and delighted at the same time, "my fault. This one is all yours."

Hercules sounds petulant. "We don't need to argue."

"Yo," I say, knowing that my weak, trembling voice will be barely audible to two men but these are two gods in my yard. "What's up?"

They turn towards me. I hear Ares mutter, "Gaia's garters, he is old, isn't he?"

Hercules strides forward, pulling me into a cautious embrace. He knows if he hugs me too hard, he'll break my brittle old bones.

"My birthday party," I say, letting Hercules sit me on my favorite bench, "was yesterday. And he wasn't invited."

I don't have to be able to see Ares to know he is making a face. What is he doing here, anyway? I haven't seen Ares in nearly 30 years, not since the battle at Argive when I defended Herc's children against that jerk Eurytheus.

"I know," he says, softly, sitting next to me, one big, warm hand on my knee. "I'm sorry I missed it but something came up."

I don't answer. Poor Hercules. Watching me grow old hasn't been easy on him. Ever since he died and became a god, he's been uncomfortable with my mortality.

"So," I say, trying to sound cheerful. "What did you bring me?"

"Where in Tartarus is Hebe?" That was Ares. "She has absolutely NO sense of time. You explain to him. I'm going to find her and drag her here by her hair if I have to. Just because she doesn't have anything to do with her day doesn't mean I can wait around forever."

His voice faded and I assumed he had vanished the way gods do.

"Herc? Explain what?"

I can't see him but I have known him a long, long time. I knew exactly how his face looked when he had to tell me something he didn't think I'd want to hear.

"Herc, I'm getting older by second here."

"Um, yeah. Well, the thing is, you know why you're so old?"

I laugh. "Yeah. I was never any good at staying dead. Although I assume the next time. . ."

"There won't be a next time."

"Huh?"

"That's why you're so old. You're immortal."

I peer up at him, tilting my head to see at least the blur that was his face. He sounds nervous.

"So," I say slowly. "What did you do to make me immortal?"

"Me?" He sounds surprised. "I didn't do anything!"

"Yeah, right." I poke him in the leg. "How else would I get immortal, huh?"

Hercules clears his throat. I can picture his expression perfectly, his brows drawn together, his lips pressed tight.

"Nobody did it. Not one person, that is."

"One god?"

"No. You know your gravestone?"

Now I am lost. I have to think. It has been sixty years since the last time I was dead and Hercules had erected a white marble stone with my face carved in it as a memorial. It was on a hill not too far from where I lived now. I hadn't been up there in years but I knew it still stood. Some people even left offerings to a honor a hero. I told everyone not to but strangers still passed through. I guess, to most people, my being the best friend of a god made me. . .oh, no!

"You're telling me. . ." I'm horrified.

"Um, yeah. See, because people have worshipped you as an immortal hero, you've become an immortal hero."

"You're joking. Please, tell me you're joking."

It is Ares' voice that answers. He must have returned. "Sorry, Sunshine. The act makes it so. You're immortal only not ageless. Now, can we get on with this."

"Hold it just one minute!" I wave my hands, trying to silence the gods in my garden. I need to get my mind around this concept. "Because some people think I'm immortal, I become immortal. That's ridiculous."

"If they just thought you were immortal," Hercules explains, "it wouldn't have any effect. But people have been worshipping you and worship is different."

I shake my head. "I don't. . ."

Ares interrupts again. "You don't have any say. That's the way genuine worship works. Damned powerful stuff. Now, if you don't mind. . ."

"Hello, Iolaus."

That is Hebe, Ares' sister and Hercules' wife. After he died and Zeus made him a god, he and Hera managed to work out a truce. Hebe, I gathered, helped. She fell in love in Hercules and he fell in love with her and Hera gave in and let them get married. She is the goddess of youth and I met her at Argive, when she made me young for a day so I could lead the battle against Eurytheus' forces. I hadn't seen her since but, to the best of my memory she looked like her brother, with big, dark eyes and curling dark hair, only feminine. Great breasts, as I recalled.

I feel soft hands take mine.

"You see," she is saying, "if I don't make you ageless, you'll just get older and older, until you are completely infirm but never dying."

"Like Tithonus."

"Exactly."

"Ugh."

"So, I'm here to make you young again." She sounds delighted with the prospect.

I feel Hercules move behind me, his hands, warm and heavy, on my shoulders.

"How come you didn't tell me this earlier?" I ask.

"Explain later!" hollers Ares. "I have things to do!"

"And what is he doing here?"

Hebe laughs lightly. "We'll explain later. Ready? This may be unsettling."

I smile at her, glad I still have most of my teeth. "I remember. It wasn't that bad."

"That was thirty years ago, Iolaus. I was only taking off thirty years and then just for a day. Now I'm going to take sixty and it's going to be permanent."

I feel Hercules move closer behind me. I take a deep breath and nod.

At first, all I feel is warmer, the heat flowing from Hebe's hands into my own. I hadn't realized how much the joints in my fingers ached until the pain melted away before the heat.

It's hard to describe getting younger. It feels hot and wet and painful and pleasurable at the same time. I think a dry raisin being boiled in sweet water to make it juicy again probably feels the same way I feel as Hebe works her magic on me.

My joints begin to loosen and I stand up, surprised at how stooped I have become. I twist my neck and twitch my shoulders so Hercules will stop pressing down. The mist in front of my eyes evaporates like fog on a summer morning. I find myself looking into the dark, laughing eyes of Hercules' wife. I can suddenly hear out of my left ear again.

I take a deep breath. Then another. I haven't breathed like this in years. I can feel the blood pounding in my ears, and my head spins. Certain parts of me, which haven't reacted to much of anything for ages, suddenly notice how pretty Hebe is and yes, she does have great breasts and I am looking right at them. I blush and laugh, because I hadn't blushed in decades.

Staggering, I fall back against Hercules, who is laughing, too, as he holds me up.

"Still a few grey hairs," he says cheerfully. "That's better. Just leave that one."

Then Hebe lets go my hands and my knees started to give out. Only Herc's arm around my waist keeps me upright. His strong arm, holding me firmly, the way he did all those years ago, when I was young and fit and occasionally needed an arm up; holding me without fear of breaking my bones.

I am giggling hysterically. The idea of immortality still doesn't sit too well with me but I decide I liked youth. Youth is great. Well, middle age but middle age sure as Tartarus beats being a hundred.

Hebe, bending down to look at me, says, sounding concerned, "Are you all right, Iolaus?"

Hercules replies, chuckling. "He's fine. He just gets the giggles sometimes. Give him a minute."

"Excuse me!" Ares again. I look at him and laugh at the annoyed expression on his face. He hasn't changed in the last sixty years, save for a slight alteration in wardrobe and hair style.

"Oh." Hercules tugs me to my feet. "Right. Iolaus, get a hold of yourself."

I have to bite my lip to keep from doing just that. Hebe really is attractive and I'm young again.

"Oh, for. . ." Ares stomps over and grabs my hands. That makes me stop laughing. He is glaring at me and holding my hands so tightly that I feels as if my newly young bones might be crushed.

"Hey!" I try to pull away. "I don't need you to make me a warrior. I've been one most of my life."

"That's not what I'm doing."

"He's giving you a few powers," Hercules says, letting me go once he was sure I could stand on my own.

"What powers?" I ask, suspicious. "Am I a god?"

"Good grief, no!" Ares sounds horrified. "Hercules is bad enough."

Hercules goes to stand next to his brother-in-law. "He is just giving you the ability to travel with a god. So you can come with me."

"Otherwise, Blondie, you get to walk up Mount Olympus whenever my sister invites you to dinner."

"So why isn't Herc doing this?"

Ares grins, very broadly. I don't think I had ever been this close to him when he did that. He seems to have more teeth than anyone I had ever seen. "Because little brother is a minor deity. You have to be a major deity to transfer power. He may be a god but I'm a bigger god. Now, hold still. This is going to hurt."

Good old Ares. He isn't kidding. I feel as if he just poured fire into my veins. While Hebe's power had been warm and sensual, this just plain hurts. I screech in pain, which makes Ares laugh. Fortunately, it only lasts a moment, then he drops my hands and steps back.

"Thank you, Ares," sings Hebe, giving him a hug. He glares at her and vanishes in a roll of flame.

"All rightie," I say, "Now that that's over, will someone explain a few things to me. Like, how long have I been immortal and why did you decide to tell me now?"

Herc looks embarrassed. "Normally, an immortal hero is already dead when the worship starts but in your case. . ." He shrugs. We both know my habit of not staying dead. "I guess your immortality really kicked in after the battle at Argive. The number of people worshipping you increased enough to do whatever it is worship does that makes your life thread unbreakable. But you were so happy, with your children and grandchildren, I just figured you'd like to live out your natural life."

"And. . "

"Your natural life would have ended tomorrow. You would have had a stroke or something and been crippled and helpless from then on, even if you lived forever."

"Ugh. Good timing, then? So, why Ares? Why not Aphrodite or some god who likes me?"

Hebe smiles at me and I react again. As soon as I can, I need to get some privacy and deal with years of frustration. Hercules is oblivious but Hebe gives me a wink.

"That was my idea," says Hebe. "I asked him as a favor. Sort of to make peace with you. And, let's be honest, you are a warrior and he is your god, even if you don't like to admit it."

Nasty thought, even if true. Still, while I had offered the occasional thanks to Artemis, Aphrodite, Hepheastus or another god who had shown me favor, I had made a point of never doing so to Ares. I say as much. Hebe smiles again. She obviously likes her brother more than anybody else on Olympus.

"Iolaus," Hercules pleads, "We're really trying to get along these days. Ares, me, Iphicles and everyone."

"Hold it. Iphicles? Hasn't he been dead for thirty some years?"

Hebe laughs. Damn. She really is attractive and I really am young again. "Oh, Hercules, didn't you tell him that either?"

Hercules looks even more embarrassed. "Well, no. I thought he might figure out he was immortal if he found out that Iphicles had become immortal."

"Same reason as I did, I take it?" After Hercules' mortal half-brother died, I knew that some had taken to worshipping him as an "immortal hero," too. Iphicles' son, my namesake and the current king of Corinth, hadn't discouraged it, although he told me privately it bothered him. He let it go on because it contributed to the stability of the royal house of Corinth.

"Yeah." Hercules is playing with a tie on his gauntlet. "He was dead for awhile but the worship started to affect him in the afterlife. He can travel between Olympus and the Elysian Fields at will. Stops by occasionally. He and Ares get along pretty well and if Hebe has both of them over, there is a lot less shouting and throwing things."

"So." I'm still getting used to this. "I'm immortal, but no godly powers."

Hercules nods. "You can travel with me, can look upon gods in their divine form without being fried, that sort of thing, but no actual power." He grins, suddenly. "No tossing fireballs."

"Damn." I grin back. "So, immortal and eternally young. Youngish." I shake my head. "I can't really complain, you know, even if I do think you could have told me this earlier. Surprise like that could give an old man a heart attack."

We are interrupted by my granddaughter coming out into the yard. Antiope looks like me, with my blue eyes, quick smile and fair hair. She is wiping her hands on her apron and stops, stock still, when she catches sight of the three of us.

"Hercules," she says, dipping into a curtsey. To her, Hercules has always been a god and she finds it unnerving that her old grandfather treats him as if he were a ordinary man. She looks at Hebe, then me, puzzled.

"Forgive me, my lord," she says, addressing Hercules. "I thought my grandfather was out here."

"I am."

Antiope looks at me again, frowning. The she registers that I am wearing the green chiton she wove for me and the sandals her husband, the cobbler, made. Her eyes open wide, as does her mouth.

"Grandfather?" Her voice is a whisper. I smile and nod, opening my arms wide.

"Long story, Anti, but yeah, it's me and I'm young."

"Like at Argive?" She has heard the story of the battle that took place five years before her birth but I don't think she believed it until now. I strike her as very old and very ordinary. I don't think she has ever believed any of the stories about me, even if Hercules the god does pop in for visits now and then.

"Well, not entirely. I gather this is permanent."

Suspicious, she steps forward, looking me over very carefully. My but she is a pretty thing, my granddaughter. No wonder her husband first wanted to marry her when she was only thirteen. I made them wait five years.

Trembling, her hand reaches up and touches the half moon scar over my right eye, brushing back my hair as she does. Then she meets my eyes.

"It is you!"

She lets me pull her into a tight embrace. As we separate, she puts her hands on my upper arms and studies me closely.

"Mama always said you were supposed to be so popular with the ladies. I guess I can see it now."

We laugh, our laughs similar, and I hug her again.

Hercules manages to quickly explain the situation, adding that I will live on Olympus in his back bedroom but that I will be free to visit my family whenever I want. He hadn't mentioned the back bedroom to me but I'm agreeable. Hebe and Hercules have two little boys who I have never met because they are afraid that even baby gods would be too strong and might hurt a fragile old mortal by accident. I'd like to be Uncle Iolaus to Herc's children again.

"You can tell the others," I add as Hercules' finishes. Antiope is one of twelve grandchildren, four children and nine great-grandchildren, plus various nieces, nephews and assorted kinsmen who consider me the patriarch of the clan. "I'll be back in a few days, and talk to everyone myself but you can prepare them."

Antiope nods, still obviously a bit overwhelmed by it all. I can understand her feelings. I'm still overwhelmed. Her husband calls from the house and she turns, giving me one last, uncertain look, before she goes inside. Her husband is a kind man with no imagination. I almost follow, just to see his expression, but Herc stops me.

"One thing." He waves his hand. My green chiton is now folded on the bench, next to my staff and sandals, and I'm wearing that waistcoat I used to wear. I run my fingers over, amazed. It had long ago faded and worn to rags and my dear late wife finally did away with it. I'm wearing leather trousers, boots and my old amulet, intact, the way it was so many years ago. His voice sounds satisfied. "That's better."

The tears start in my eyes. It's true. It's real. I'm young and fit and ready to be a hero again.

"We can go and save people," I say, my throat so tight that my voice squeaks, "just the way we used to."

"Yup."

He pulls me into a tight embrace, against his chest. I am reminded of another time he did this, when we were both in tears, but then it was what we thought was the final farewell. This time, it's a new beginning.

"So," I say, pushing away and wiping my face on my gauntlets. "Is Hebe a good cook? Does she have Ares and Iphicles over for dinner often?"

"Yes and yes. You'd be surprised. Ares can be quite reasonable around Hebe."

I look around the quiet yard. The last few years have been sweet, quiet, surrounded by a loving family, peaceful and pleasant, but, in the final analysis, boring. Adventure. Monsters. Women. I find myself grinning as I slap Hercules on the back. Hebe comes and stands beside him, her arm affectionately around his waist.

"Olympus," says the Goddess of Youth, "awaits."

And after that, all the world and forever.

August 2001