First, let me start by saying this: If you are a Bagoas hater, you might as well stop before you start. He is a huge part of this story and I am nice to him through the whole thing. Yes, I know…I can't believe I did it either. I actually thought of this story about a year ago but never wrote it. It just felt like time.

Now the usual stuff: I don't own any of it, not the characters, not a darned thing. They simply allow me to play with them. If there are any inaccuracies, forgive me. They may or may not be deliberate.

Rating: K

Alexander had been irritable and short tempered for the last few weeks, and everyone was walking on eggshells to avoid incurring his wrath. Several times he had snapped at his closest companions, and had later apologized. The poor pages and servants were not as fortunate. He had lost all patience with them and was constantly biting their heads off over the most seemingly trivial things. Most of them hid from him unless absolutely necessary.

The army was on the move again, but things were not running quite as smoothly as they usually did. Somehow things seemed just a little less organized and a bit more chaotic. Alexander had been trying to keeps things in order without killing anyone in the process. Organization and diplomacy were not his strong suits, nor did he claim them to be.

It had been a long and frustrating day, and he was sure that most of the men were ready to run him through with a sarissa at this point. He had not been the easiest person to deal with, he would admit that. He had taken his supper then excused himself to the quiet solitude of his tent. Well, it was quiet and solitary after he had unceremoniously kicked out his servants and ordered the guards to allow no one in. He was in a foul mood…again.

His bath had been drawn and everything laid out for him before he had thrown his attendants out. He decided nice, warm bath with a touch of the lavender oil in the water would be a welcome and relaxing respite from the problems that seemed to follow him wherever he went. Stripping off his dusty clothing, he eased himself down into the bath, letting the warmth and the soothing scent of the lavender ease the tension from his tight muscles.

Gods, what a day it had been. How anyone managed to keep up with all this stuff was beyond his comprehension. He was glad he wasn't the one that usually handled it.

As he leaned back against the tub, he closed his eyes and sighed heavily. "Just a few more days" he thought.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt a pair of hands settle lightly on his shoulders. The exotic smell of cinnamon and spices revealed the owner of those hands without him having to turn around.

"Bagoas! You startled me!" He leaned back into the touch as strong fingers began to massage the knots from his shoulders. "How did you get in here? I threw everyone out!"

A soft laugh and warm breath tickled his ear.

"I never left, Al'skander. I waited in your inner room until the others had gone. I thought you might be in need of me this evening." The hands stilled their movement briefly. "Do you wish me to leave, my Lord?"

Alexander reached back and laid his hand over Bagoas' hand where it rested on his shoulder. "No, you may stay. And please…continue what you were doing. It feels wonderful."

By the time Bagoas had finished massaging his shoulders, neck and upper back, Alexander was nearly asleep. The eunuch helped him from the cooling bath, dried him tenderly and wrapped him in beautifully embroidered silk robe.

"I will get you some wine, my Lord. I will return shortly." Bagoas bowed slightly and backed out of the room, surprising the guards as he opened the door to leave. They feared they had made a grave error and gave Alexander a look of terror.

Alexander shook his head. "Gods…" he thought, "am I really such a monster?"

"It is alright" he assured them. "Bagoas will be back soon. It is okay to let him in. No one else, though."

The relieved guards closed the door and took up their post again.

It had grown dark outside, but there were several braziers burning in the main room of his tent, with one on either side of his bed. It was lit well enough for him to read, which made him smile. He walked to the bedside table and retrieved the ornately carved box that he kept there. Opening it, he took out his well-worn and much loved copy of the Iliad. Its pages were as familiar to him as his own body, so often did he read from it.

Sitting down on the bed, he propped a couple pillows against the headboard and sat back against them, settling himself comfortably with the book in his lap. He smiled softly as he looked down as his beloved book. Aristotle could not have given him a better gift. It was among his most precious possessions. As he opened the book to begin reading, his smile slowly faded after only a few pages. His heart felt heavy and suddenly he didn't feel much like reading any more.

Something was missing. Or more accurately…someone.

He gave a deep sigh and closed his eyes, his head bowed slightly. Once again he jumped at the hand on his arm.

"By the gods, Bagoas! How do you do that? I never hear you come in!"

The eunuch smiled warmly at him and handed him a cup of wine. "I did not wish to disturb you." He paused and studied Alexander's face for a moment. "You are unhappy, my Lord. Is there something I can do for you?"

Alexander smiled softly at him in return. "No, Bagoas. I am fine, really. Just being silly I suppose."

Bagoas touched his arm again gently. He knew what the problem was. "You miss him, do you not, Al'skander?"

Alexander held his gaze briefly and nodded. "Yes, Bagoas. You are exactly right. I miss Hephaestion. I read to him from this book quite often. He has been gone for over a month now, and I daresay I am not doing so well without him. I fear I have been quite the tyrant. I probably owe you an apology or two as well."

Bagoas shook his head adamantly. "No, Al'skander! You have done nothing to me. I understand well how you are feeling." He smiled. "He will be back soon, my Lord. I am sure he misses you as well."

Alexander ran his fingers tenderly over the pages of his book and sighed again. "I know."

Bagoas gingerly touched the edge of one of the pages, hoping he was not being too bold. "Your book, Al'skander…what is this story you love so much? I have never asked, and I hope you do not mind."

"You do not know the story of Achilles, do you Bagoas?"

Bagoas merely shook his head. No, he had not heard it.

Suddenly Alexander began to smile. He patted the bed next to him. "Come, sit with me. I will tell you the story of Troy, the great warrior Achilles, and of his beloved, Patroclus."