Title: Requiem for a soldier's dream
Pairing: Alexander/Hephaistion
Rating: R
Warnings: implied m/m slash, angst, mild violence
Word Count: 7,000 total
A/N: Written for the Alexander Alphabet Challenge - my second "R" actually.

I've never quite understood the attraction I have to men, especially when I see all my fellow soldiers lusting after and bedding down women, at any and all times. It's not that I haven't been with a woman, for I have and from what I scarcely remember, I did enjoy it. Of course, I was so young the first time that it really didn't count, and so far into my cups the second time that I can barely remember who the woman was. No, I certainly do not hunger for the affections of a comely young lady, or an experienced woman who will teach me the wicked ways of love. But at the same time, I have never been with a man, nor met a man who has enticed me enough to take that step, except for one who is truly unattainable.

To lust after a man who is out of my reach is truly an unsatisfying experience, not to mention a most frustrating one. But to love a man out of my reach, as well as lust after him, is worse by far. I feel not only lust in my loins for this man, but also a twinge in my chest whenever he is near, something I do not wish to feel, nor have I been able to do anything about. He is high above me in rank, and though that is not in itself a complete deterrent, the fact that he is a very close companion of the king, certainly is.

Hephaistion Amyntor, King Alexander's favored companion since childhood, is the man who holds all my frustration in his hands. He is the man who, with a single glance from those piercing blue eyes, can cause me to stumble and completely forget whatever it was I was doing, or was supposed to be doing. He is a man feared by many because of his status in the king's life, and detested for the same reason. He is a man of true beauty, something I do not believe I ever considered a man could be: beautiful. He is fair and just and honest and hard-working, all things that are truly fine attributes. He is the man who holds my heart, and if that is not enough to keep me on my toes when he strays into my vicinity, the fact that he is also the king's lover only adds to the frustration.

*****

"Did anyone notice how late they both were for the evening meal?"

"It was impossible not to notice since the meal was served so late because of that very fact. And I dare say the king and the general were both looking rather flushed and unkempt, as well."

The men in my tent are exactly those of whom I speak, loathing Hephaistion, yet fearful of him and everything he means to the king. Their constant banter and bickering on the subject makes me wonder sometimes whether they, too, have other inclinations towards the general, ones that they cover up with petty comments and ridicule, just as I do.

"And even after their pre-dinner dalliance, Hephaistion still proceeded to bend suggestively over Alexander at every opportunity ..."

"He was almost sitting in the king's lap when the wine began flowing ..."

"He was practically inviting His Majesty to his tent with only the jut of his hip and the stretching of those thighs that Alexander so adores. I was surprised that the king did not take him right there on the dining room table, between the bread and wine."

"Ah, but you know it is not the king who does the taking, 'tis the pretty general."

"Do you lads kiss your mothers with those wretched mouths of yours?" General Cleitus enters the tent, bringing all of us immediately to our feet. "And should the king hear you speak of such things, he will surely put you to death."

The words were complete and utter lies, but I did notice some of the younger men in our tent shudder slightly in their dirt-encrusted boots. I believe Alexander would not be amused by the way we speak of the man he shares his bed with, and apparently loves more than anyone else in his life, but I do not believe he would put anyone to death; rather he would merely make our lives extremely uncomfortable for the rest of our days.

"Out with ya now," General Cleitus says, waving one muscled arm in the air, as if to frighten us into obeying. Though I'm not happy about being summoned from the warmth of my blanket so soon after bedding down for the night, at least the man did save me from the repetitive and torturous discussion of who does the taking...

"Ariston, is it?" I lift my head to meet the black eyes of the General, suddenly realizing I have been lost in my reverie and neglected to follow the other men from the tent. "Do you mean to disobey me, or are you a little slow, boy?"

Cleitus is a man I have the utmost respect for, not only for his bravery and stealth in battle, but also for his sharp tongue and unassuming attitude. Cleitus will say anything to anyone with no fear or thought. He served under King Philip and has been in Alexander's life longer than anyone else, even Hephaistion, and still calls the young king iboy/i, as he does the rest of us.

I follow Cleitus out of the tent, the cool night air biting into my flesh, making me regret not at least throwing a cloak around my body. I'm both surprised and excited to see Hephaistion standing in the spot to which the general is leading us, golden cloak wrapped around his body, mane of bronze locks flowing over his shoulders. In this light, he truly resembles nothing less than a god to me, and as always, there's a calmness that seems to exude from his very being, settling itself around him and flowing from his mere existence.

"Alright, men, come in closer," Cleitus says, stepping aside so we can huddle closer ... to Hephaistion. I push my way to the front, standing not three feet away from the man who makes my heart beat faster and my flesh shiver with need. "Come now, General Hephaistion, let's get this over with so I can return to the warmth of my tent and the body of my woman."

Hephaistion barely acknowledges Cleitus' vulgarity, glancing momentarily at him, then back at the crowd of men gathered before him. "I need volunteers," he says, his strong but soft-spoken voice garnering all our attention. "There's been a threat on the king's life and I require additional men to stand guard at his tent. Should I get no volunteers, I will simply start handing out assignments to whomever appears the least likely to want the duty."

I can hardly contain the yearning that overcomes me as I gaze upon Hephaistion, glad for the loose chiton that hangs over my thickening loins. I can honestly say it's a shameful thing in my mind to know that all I have to do is stand close to the general and I am instantly hard and full of want. I look around at the men near me, realizing that not one of them is going to volunteer to spend a night standing watch at the king's tent. At the back of my mind, I wonder if perhaps Hephaistion will be in Alexander's tent this evening, thus if I volunteered, it would mean I would be near him again. Before I realize what I'm doing, my hand shoots up and my voice surprises even my own ears.

"I volunteer, General." My ears ring with anticipation and my heart beats out of my chest. I'm not sure what I had expected to happen, surely not for Hephaistion to be so grateful he asks my name or takes me aside to properly thank me, but nonetheless, I feel a sense of closeness to him that I've never experienced before. Have I mentioned that being around the general always makes me a tad delusional, possibly stemming from the amount of oxygen that leaves my brain and flows straight to my groin?

"What's your name, soldier?" Hephaistion is actually speaking to me, and not merely iat/i me, as I stand straight and tall, my lips unable to form words. I'm sure I look exactly as Cleitus described me in the tent: slow and dim-witted, as well.

"Ariston, General. My name is Ariston." My voice sounds foreign in my ears, the sound almost painfully wrong and out of place.

"Alright, Ariston. Thank you for volunteering." I meet Hephaistion's eyes for the first time then, the icy blue cutting straight through my brain and infiltrating my heart. He's never looked at me before, at least not in the eyes and not on purpose, and I suddenly feel like a love-sick girl, rather than a seasoned soldier with three years service under my belt. "Do I have any more takers? Or shall I start doling out the assignments."

I watch as several more reluctant arms show themselves, a slow smirk growing on Hephaistion's lips with each affirmation. He's so lovely that I can barely stand so near and not want to reach out and touch him, and not even in a purely sexual way. I just want to feel his skin under my fingertips, perhaps stroke the hair from his face as I've seen the king do so many times before. If only that were a reality, rather than the silly dream of a common soldier.

Hephaistion has started talking again while my mind has been lost in my foolish thoughts. " ... dismissed."

I suddenly realize that I've missed everything he's just said, as he nods to our group, then turns, wrapping his arms around himself, and walks away.

"Why were you so quick to volunteer?" my tent mate asks me, as we walk back to our quarters. "I've never seen you so eager to do anything, except perhaps eat and sleep."

"I was not eager," I defend, shaking my head to clear the irrational thoughts that still cloud my brain, thoughts of how Hephaistion would show his gratitude in the best possible way, or in any way at all. "I'm a soldier, just as you are, so all I am doing is what is expected of me. Would you have preferred that I not speak up, thus guaranteeing that the look of contempt on your face would have gained you an unwanted duty?"

"When are you expected on duty, then?" the man asks me, making me realize I do not have the slightest clue, since I failed to listen to the general's orders while in my delusional haze. "You iwere/i listening, were you not? You certainly had a strange look on your face when you were gazing upon the pretty general."

"I was not gazing upon him! Don't be ridiculous." I can't help snapping at him, my palms instantly growing sweaty with the inference.

"You are not sweet on Alexander's playmate, are you now? Because I have never seen you seek the pleasures of a woman ..."

"Nor have I seen you seek such pleasures."

My friend nods, holding the flap of the tent back for me as he enters. "'Tis true. We do not have time for such things lately, but you did seem to be entirely too enthralled when the general was giving his orders."

I shake my head in disgust, grabbing up my cloak and throwing it quickly around my shoulders. I must find out what my assignment is, and the only way to do that is to hunt down the heart-stopping general, and seek an audience with him. "I'll be back in a while, please ensure no one procures any of my things while I am away."

I turn and leave the tent again, heading in the direction that Hephaistion had gone. If I can catch him before he disappears into his tent, I can ask him what I need to know without disturbing the sanctuary of his quarters, though nothing would please me more than to be invited inside to see his personal space. The very thought makes my nerves flutter with excitement, wicked thoughts filling my head momentarily until I force myself back to the task at hand. I cannot allow such preposterous thoughts to take over my mind, or I shall surely not be able to even face the general, let alone speak with any sort of rationality.

The only souls that seem to be still awake and visible are Hephaistion's guards, both staring at me as I approach slowly, in hopes I don't alarm them. "My good men, I seek a small favor, if you might see fit to grant it to me."

"What is it?" the taller of the two speaks up, while the other slumps down into a chair that rests at the entrance of the tent.

"I've been assigned to the king's tent tonight, but I fail to recall exactly when my duty begins. Might you please ask the general for that information for me?"

"Enter." The single word from within the general's tent rings painfully in my ears. "I said, enter. If you need to speak with me, there is no sense in doing it through the walls of my tent."

The guards smirk at me, as my numb feet carry me through the flap and into the warmth of Hephaistion's tent. I feel as if I'm breaking some vow of chastity, or entering some place that I surely do not belong. Hephaistion's back is to me, his fingers raking through the length of his long hair, and when he turns to me, I feel as if one of my dreams has suddenly come to life. His tunic hangs open to the waist, strong muscled chest revealed between the two pieces of material that frame it. His fingers continue to tangle through his hair, while his other hand brings a cup of wine to his lips, then returns the cup to the nearby desk. His lips are red-tinged from the drink, his cheeks rosy from the sun, and his eyes clear as the sea as he cocks his head and takes me in.

"Ariston, right?"

"Yes, sir," I stumble on my words as he continues to look me up and down.

"I had a friend with that name in my youth. He was a friend of both the king and I. A good student, but one who kept Aristotle on his toes, even more than the king himself." His eyes light up with the memory, the candle nearby making them shine and sparkle in the dimness of the tent.

"Is he a soldier now, as well?" It is taking every ounce of my courage and strength to simply stand before him, speaking casually and trying not to let my eyes give away everything my body and heart are feeling.

Hephaistion's face turns sad, his eyes looking past me, and undoubtedly, into the past. "No. I'm afraid he did not survive our youth. He had an accident with a horse when we were around the age of sixteen, but I still have many fond memories of him."

I nod, unsure of what to say next, since I've clearly brought the peacefulness of his mood to a screaming halt.

"What was it you wished to know?"

My mind goes blank as Hephaistion's eyes return to my face, the look of sadness replaced with one of confusion. "I ... wished to know when you need me on duty, sir. At the king's tent, I mean."

Hephaistion furrows his brows, his eyes looking into the distance as a pained look crosses his face quickly, then disappears. I assume he is worried about the threat to the king and even more so to the man he loves; a double-edged sword that must weigh heavily on his mind. "You may take first watch if you like. There are already two guards on duty, but I have chosen to use extra precautions in this matter. I would rather there were too many watching over the king, than too few."

I nod, watching as he picks up the jug of wine and refills his cup. "I would offer you some but, well, you are on duty." He smiles a smile that seems to light up his whole face and I know it lights up my whole being. How can one man be so endearing and enlightening, as well as beautiful? It hardly seems fair.

"How long have you been a soldier, Ariston?" he asks me, dropping into the chair that sits beside his desk. "You do not look old enough to have been here long."

"Three years," I reply, impressed with the casualness of my voice, and most especially with how it sounds as if I am not quaking in my boots. "I just turned nineteen, sir."

"Nineteen? That does seem like a lifetime ago to me." His eyes take on that dreamy look again, his mind more than likely turned to the past, reflecting on days gone by. I feel a flash of jealousy and spite ripple through me when I realize he is more than likely thinking of the times he shared with Alexander, but I'm proud in knowing that I do not allow myself to show my mean-spirited thoughts before him. The fingers of his right hand trace the rim of his wine glass and as I struggle for something to say, anything to say, I also battle the urge to stroke and kiss those long, elegant fingers, if only for a moment.

"Good evening, General." The voice from the entrance of the tent startles our momentary silence, both of us turning to see Alexander watching us, a smug smile playing on his lips. "I do hope I am not interrupting anything."

"Nonsense," Hephaistion replies, making no effort to rise and bow to the king, as I am now doing. "This is Ariston. He has volunteered to help guard His Majesty's tent this night. Of course, that will be a lesson in futility if His Majesty is not in his tent."

Alexander chuckles, something I do not believe I have ever seen nor heard him do before. He is a regal man, his lion's mane of blond curls making him look truly majestic and kingly. He always holds himself well and I do not believe I have ever seen a moment when he was informal and playful, until now.

I feel like I am invisible in the room as Alexander's eyes seek out Hephaistion's, and the two stare lovingly at each other for several moments. The look cannot be mistaken for anything but love, not respect or friendship or companionly adoration, only heartfelt love. It's like a battle of wits, a contest to see who will look away first or perhaps who will crack a smile before the other. I have never seen Alexander in such a light, his face relaxed and animated even as he struggles to maintain eye contact with the general.

Hephaistion cracks first, the corners of his sensuous mouth turning up, his eyes becoming even brighter than before. "Do you wish an audience with me, my King? For as you can clearly see, I am already in a very important meeting."

I am absolutely positive that my jaw has just dropped to the ground, and just to be sure, I bring my hand up to touch my chin. I am dumbfounded at Hephaistion's words, and though I know I stated earlier that I do not believe Alexander would harm anyone who came between him and Hephaistion, my palms suddenly become clammy with nervousness. If there was ever a doubt in my mind that the pair is indeed the closest of friends, and lovers, there is no certainly no doubt now.

"I did not realize this child was of major importance," the king says, moving further into the room, eyes still focused on Hephaistion's.

"He is not a child, Sire. He has just turned nineteen and that makes him most definitely a man." Hephaistion is teasing the king and I am not entirely comfortable in my skin at the moment. If there was a way to crawl out of the tent unnoticed, I would surely use it now.

"Nineteen? Do you remember being nineteen, General? It was a lovely age, was it not?"

"You make me sound as though I am an old man now, Your Majesty. Surely you recall that you are the same age as I, and when you make fun of my age, you also make fun of your own."

"Ah well, we are not past our primes yet, are we? Would you prefer for me to come back later, after your ... meeting is completed?"

"No!" I can feel utter, flaming redness flood my face. Did I actually just yell at the king? What am I thinking or perhaps I should say, why am I not thinking properly?

Alexander finally turns to me, his brown eyes catching mine and holding me as he prepares to speak. "Do you have an older brother, Ariston?"

My heart leaps into my throat. "Yes, Sire," I manage to squeak out past my dry, parched lips. "He was fatally wounded in battle this past year."

"I am sorry. I believe you resemble him, do you not?"

"Yes, Sire, I have been told as much. Now if you will please excuse me, Majesty, I shall return to my tent for my warm cloak, then report for duty."

"Thank you, Ariston," Hephaistion says, as I bow to Alexander, again. "Please take a few minutes for yourself since the king does not appear to be in any hurry to return to his tent."

I turn and walk to the entrance, noticing from the corner of my eye how Alexander approaches Hephaistion and takes the wine from his hand. He takes a sip, and just before I am fully out of range, I hear him speak softly to the general.

"Why must I have extra guards when you will be inside protecting me with your very body, General?"

My mind goes blank, my stomach rolls and I walk hastily past the guards to the sanctuary of my own tent, not wanting to hear another word or the gentle chuckling that seeps through the general's tent.

TBC