TITLE: Smoke in the night.
AUTHOR: Too_beauty.
PAIRING: Alexander and Hephaestion.
RATING: PG.
CATEGORY: Historical Alternative Universe.
DISCLAMER: I don't know the people involved; they belong to History and to themselves.
WARNING: a bit dark and angsty.
NO BETA so all mistakes are mine.
Prompt sentence: The sky was dark and gloomy, foreshadowing things to come…
Not a single star could be seen in the sky and that was not a good omen; he had always been able to look at the skylight at this time of the year but it wouldn't be possible tonight.
The sky was dark and gloomy, foreshadowing things to come … despair, pain, loneliness, betrayal, shame.
The sky was covered with thick clouds of smoke; his heart ached due to the origin of that smoke; he didn't want to think about it again.
While the rest of the Army was celebrating the victory, he couldn't; he felt so much pain that it was impossible to bear it; his chest was about to explode and in a moment, during the previous battle, he thought his world was coming to an end, his world was the golden Prince and his life had been threatened many times today, only the quick action of Black Cleitus saved his lover's life. From that moment onwards, fear made him more alert and quicker; ready to offer his life if that simple action saved his prince's life, just like … them.
The newest soldier, proved in battle just that very day, felt as uncontrolled tears rolled down his cheeks, still stained, here and there, with some grime and blood; not his but … theirs.
He couldn't believe their good fortune; their Prince had led the Macedonians to a resounding victory, his tactics with the novel long –speared Phalanx had been flawless and every soldier had performed their movements with the perfect rhythm and timing. Even King Philip was surprised with his son's tactics and a pang of jealousy nested in his old heart, foretelling his son's greatness to come.
The brunette youth rested on his back and sighed; he closed his eyes, red rimmed due to his previous crying; he still felt shocked; his stomach had spoken hours earlier, retching his guts out and leaving him with weak knees; the metallic taste of blood inside his mouth was awful, not even the several mouthfuls of wine had been able to take it away; his muscles, a bit more relaxed, were aching due to the long and new exertion; his body was showing at the moment all the signs of exhaustion but it was his mind he was worried about. Thousands of images flooded it, bringing back, like waves, the horror of the battle, men dying wherever he set his cerulean eyes on; but mostly, images of … them, always them, and he felt ashamed because he had been part of their destruction, of their deaths; he took their lives with his own sword, cutting, like Atropos, their thread of life, sending them to cross the Styx, in many cases, before their time was due.
"Come on, Hephaestion, it was them or him; better them than him, always them, never him" his mind and heart shouted inside his body.
He wanted to hush the voices inside his head; voices of lovers calling their lovers' names, yelling at them, telling them to be careful, asking them to come back to their loving arms …
254 lovers were left on the grounds of Chaeronea; 254 men who were proud enough to fight next to their lover; 254 soldiers who stood up in defense of their Theban roots, 254 warriors who soughed for nike next to the man that held their heart.
"How could I have done that?" wondered Hephaestion while hitting his chest with his fist. "They were like us, lovers, but they weren't ashamed of showing it, they died as they lived, together and for the other. I need to honour their memory, I need to do something to soothe the pain in my heart"
And the young brunette lover stood up and headed towards the King's tent where the victory banquet was held. On his way there, he saw a man crouched next to the pyres; Hephaestion was about to warn him that it was unwise to stay near those fumes when he heard some muffled sobs. The man was wearing a long cloak and his head was hidden between his folded arms. Hephaestion knelt by his side and placing his arm around the man's shoulders said:
"Come on , my brother, let me take you back to your men"
"Take me back to your tent, please"
"Xander?" a startled Hephaestion asked
"Make me forget … them"
And in that moment Hephaestion realized that he was not alone with his feelings, that his soul mate shared his passion and his guilt; the pain of being a survivor, the shame of having dishonored them.
Both lovers walked towards their tent with their arms enveloping the other's waist, with their heads down and with tired steps. Once they had entered the tent, they let their bodies sink on the cot and the golden Prince asked his silver lover to hold him tight forever and never let him go.
"Forgive me" said the Prince hiding his face in Hephaestion's neck, "They were like us and I made my brothers kill them; I didn't think it was going to hurt so much; I saw their eyes, Phai, when life was running out of their bodies, their eyes were frantic looking for their lovers', sending their last messages of love before dying, and in a moment, I saw you, Phai, in fact both of us, a brunette Theban soldier was dragging his battered body through the battlefield to cover his blonde lover's body, who was nearly dead; they died in each other's arms and I can't take that image out of my mind since then."
The Prince broke in tears again and Hephaestion could only embrace him and rack his fingers along the golden tresses.
"Let's honour them by remembering this battle every single day of our lives, and whenever we face a difficult situation, we will think about them and their strength because they fought like lions, holding their ground and falling where they were standing. Come with me, Alexander, back to the pyres and pray to the gods for their souls" said Hephaestion.
Two dark figures could be seen standing near the pyres.
Two embraced soldiers honored the fallen Theban lovers with their presence.
Two Macedonian lovers made a silent oath of never forget them.
