Title: My Alexander

Author: Bluehaven4220

Disclaimer: Own Alexander and Hephaistion I do not (although I certainly wish I did), no need to sue. Story is meant for enjoyment.

Summary: Hephaistion cannot find the words to vanquish the pain of the one he loves so dearly. What else can he do?

Reviews: Yes, please! I LOVE reviews.

"Stay with me tonight, Hephaistion," he begged me. I averted my eyes so I wouldn't have to look him straight in the face. It was being his constant companion that had gotten me into a terrible place concerning his wife and his army, the army of Macedonia, and later Babylon.

Not that I cared what either Roxana or the army, more specifically Cassander and Cleitus, thought of Alexander and myself. Alexander was my best friend; I stood as best man at his wedding. I beheld the man as a God, he was my Alexander.

I couldn't bear to see his heart break as I refused his request. I knew it would hurt him so, but it was the proper thing to do. I walked with him to the balcony, where we looked over one of the many Alexandria's he had built and made to prosper.

"When I was a child, my mother thought me divine, my father thought me weak…" my best friend whispered as he turned to me. "Which am I, Hephaistion? Weak, or divine?" The mere prospect that he thought himself weak told me, in no uncertain terms, that he needed me.

But I could not answer. There were no words to be spoken. All I could do was look out over the balcony. When I felt his hand cup my cheek, I turned my head to face him.

"It is you I love Hephaistion, no other…" he told me.

"You're everything I care for," I enveloped him in a tight embrace, "and by the sweet breath of Aphrodite I'm so jealous of losing you to this world you want so badly."

"You'll never lose me, Hephaistion. I'll be with you always till the end." He whispered against my shoulder.

My heart broke for him, for Alexander in himself is a tragic character. As he said, his father thought him weak. For years, all I could recall was that he fought tooth and nail to make his father proud.

Being a drunkard, his father did not care for him or his mother. As soon as he could, Alexander's father dumped his son into his mother's care, and went searching for a younger woman, preferably a Macedonian virgin. I remember Philip's wedding, when his bride's uncle declared Olympias a whore, therefore proclaiming Alexander a bastard. Alexander had thrown his goblet at the offender, and a brawl had almost ensued. Yes, I'll admit I was in the middle. After refusing to apologize, Philip had banished his son.

I went with him. He had left Olympias in Macedonia, and gone off to conquer all he could desire. It pained me to see the hopelessness in his eyes. The look told me I was not looking into the eyes of a king, but into the eyes of my best friend, my love...

There was nothing I could say to vanquish his pain. I could only hold him. Soon, as dark turned to morn, I could only promise him my allegiance. Not only my allegiance, but my love. My Alexander.