Agendas, an alexander fanfic

Title: Agendas

Author: Baliansword

Chapter: 1 of 1

Rating: As always, for anyone who wants to read, but there very well could be mature, adult situations. I trust you to regulate yourself, but you're probably mature enough to handle anything I write. (For fun, let's say PG-13 for very mild sexual content)

Pairings: Alexander/Hephaestion

Summary: A young Alexander attempts to understand Hephaestion's distance from him upon his return from Athens. Their bond is strong, but are political agendas stronger?

Notes: I've been absent for so very long! But I am glad to say that the writing bug has struck me once more, and as summer ends I will dedicate myself to resurfacing. A very special thanks to Kristine, who reminded me, via Facebook, that there are people out there who still want to read my work. For those of you awaiting more chapters in my other unfinished work, don't worry! I'll be working on that as well.

It seemed that hundreds of torches had been lit and displayed throughout the grand hall of Pella, a sign that a battle of some sort had been won. It did not matter the size of the war because the generals loyal to Philip would celebrate any small feat if it meant free wine and an opportunity to fill one's gut on fatted pheasant. Despite the numerous torches, only a faint glow spilled into the shadowed hallway, which remained abandoned while the feast continued. Inside, generals loyal to Philip boasted of their courage and took their fill of wine and women alike. It was hard to tell if any of the men had abstained from drink, but the young man who observed the occasion from the safety of the darkened hallway quickly decided that none had. Philip gorged himself and continued to recall the days events over and over, each time his words changing slightly. The king's actions did not surprise the young man. He had long ago become disillusioned and knew that this was only the beginning of the night. His father would only become more belligerent and hostile. Alexander did not have the heart to continue watching the spectacle, knowing that he would be unable to alter the events destined to transpire. Frowning, he turned away from the feast and quietly continued down the blackened maze, cautious not to draw attention. There was only one individual he did not desire to rid himself of, and he doubted that his confidant would be making an appearance at the feast.

He made his way to the rooms that had been set aside for those who were both Aristotle's pupils, and sons of Philip's generals. The rooms were sparse and lacked the milieu of the other chambers in the palace because they had once belonged to maids, cooks, and other insignificant individuals Philip would rather have forgotten existed. Alexander's own chambers consisted of three adjoining rooms that he would have gladly divided amongst himself and his friends Ptolemy and Hephaestion. Queen Olympias, his mother, had found the idea impulsive and inappropriate, stating that Alexander would offend any of his peers not selected to share his rooms. He disagreed with her sentiments but decided that there was no point in arguing with her. She was relentless, as he had learned over the years. Pausing before one of the rooms, he pressed his ear against the door and listened for sounds within. He did not hear conversation or movement inside and, for a moment, considered leaving before disturbing his friend. After the brief hesitation he reconsidered and knocked gently on the door. If Hephaestion was sleeping he would not hear the sound, and would not be disturbed. Inside the room he heard a chair move and took a step away from the door.

When Hephaestion opened the door the faint light in the hall captured the glint of confusion hiding behind his cerulean eyes. Though he was uncertain of Alexander's presence, he pulled the door open and allowed the prince to enter, shutting and barring the door as Alexander stopped in the center of the small room. Alexander's eyes wandered across Hephaestion's shoulders as he latched the door, taking in the sight of his muscles as they tensed. Once Hephaestion turned Alexander averted his eyes to the small desk Hephaestion had manipulated into fitting into the corner. Several pieces of parchment were spread out over the small area and Alexander could tell by the traces of ink on Hephaestion's fingers that he had been working on something. As he reached for a piece of the parchment he recognized that its words had been written in Persian hand. Alexander could decipher a few of the words, but his acquisition of language was far from notable. Hephaestion, on the other hand, had been busying himself with scripts since before he'd returned from Athens. His friend stepped closer and began to put the parchment into separate stacks. Alexander stilled Hephaestion's hand as he reached for one of the parchments he had started writing upon. The penmanship was considerably perfect, much like all of Hephaestion's other endeavors, and for a moment Alexander found himself feeling slightly envious. The feeling was thwarted when Hephaestion ran a finger over the back of the prince's hand, sending a slight shiver up the rest of his body while causing him to release his grip on the parchment. Parchment in hand, Hephaestion set the papers down out of Alexander's grasp and slowly crossed his arms over his chest. Alexander felt the distance growing between them, but it was made worse when he was forced to see Hephaestion's apprehension towards him.

"You weren't at the feast," Alexander noted, hoping that Hephaestion's stance was not a sign of his true state of mind.

"The charades performed by drunken men at lavish feasts fail to raise the brows of those who understand their vacuous complexities and vapid nature," Hephaestion answered, a hint of a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Hephaestion, if he so desired, could spout anything in the manner of a philosopher. On most occasions he kept his ability to do so hidden, speaking up in their studies only when directly addressed. Yet alone, without the peering eyes of others, Alexander was able to catch his friend in deep thought constantly. It amused him. It was not uncommon to find others, Cassander and Ptolemy both, in bed with any young girl who suited their fancy, but their trysts lacked surprise. Hephaestion's speech patterns were different. The Athenian influence was always surprising, provoking and, the prince had to admit, arousing. He swallowed quickly and surveyed the room once more. There were no personal touches. It was drab and in Alexander's opinion far beneath the station of his companion.

"Sit," Hephaestion suggested, suddenly careful not to mistakenly command.

Alexander had noticed that upon his return from Athens Hephaestion had changed completely and not at all at the same time. He was the same before him. Yet when he spoke, he sounded different. Hephaestion was careful not to answer him too quickly, taking pause where he normally would have inserted his thoughts without hesitation. He kept his distance from him in the halls. He made himself scarce when others were not present. Tonight he kept his distance even though they had been alone many times before. Ignoring the peculiar manner of asking, Alexander pulled the chair away from the writing desk and sat. Hephaestion did not seem phased by the situation, but he did not appear to relax. He did not sit, only kept staring blankly at Alexander. For a moment, Alexander wanted to ask Hephaestion if he was ill from the journey back from Athens, or if he had gained the gift of foresight. He asked neither. Instead, he pressed his lips together and let the silence linger. Hephaestion, who was usually good about inventing conversation, was silent.

"Have I offended you?" Alexander asked bluntly, allowing the words to slip out before he could stop himself. Hephaestion shook his head.

"No, of course not."

"You're different."

Silence enveloped them. Finally sensing that Alexander was seeking an explanation, Hephaestion responded, "I haven't changed. I've just...realized that there are certain things we cannot ask of each other. Certain things that we cannot want. There are things that cannot come between us."

"Right now everything's between us," Alexander inserted. He crossed his arms over his chest, mirroring Hephaestion's stance. Rising, he closed some of the distance between him, watching Hephaestion's eyes while he did so. There was pain hidden beneath the cerulean veil he was attempting to bravely keep up. Alexander wanted to press himself against him, wrap his arms around him, tell him there was nothing they could not share. He'd attempted to tell him as much before he was taken from him to Athens, but the moment had evaded them. Perhaps he would tell him now.

"That look," Hephaestion said, putting a hand out and stopping Alexander before he could come within an arm's distance, "can't exist between us."

Hephaestion felt a pang in his stomach as he said the words but he knew that he could not take them back. Even when his truest friend blinked, unsure perhaps of the meaning of the words themselves, he felt as if a spear had been shoved into his abdomen. With each passing second of silence the spear twisted. But it was the truth, a truth that had never existed between them before, but one that had to exist between them now. Hephaestion could not love him.

...five months prior...

"By Zeus, you should cut his hair!" Philip laughed, slapping the boy lightly on the cheek. He let his eyes wander for a moment more over the returned boy –if he could still think of him as a boy. He'd grown into his body. The figure he had known had been re-chiseled and was now defined by moderate muscles. The childhood innocence the boy had once had was now gone, no doubt replaced by Athenian philosophy. Philip shook his head and laughed once more at Hephaestion's hair. Clapping Amyntor on the shoulder he turned away.

"Do you want him to be mistaken for a eunuch?"

"It keeps the whores away."

Hephaestion ignored their conversation as he entered Pella. He followed behind as a dutiful son was expected, and like his father had taught him did not allow his eyes or ears to wander upon the King. Instead, he glanced down the halls as they passed them, silently hoping that a chance encounter with Alexander would pry him from his father. If Alexander asked for his company, neither the King nor Amyntor would deny him. Yet the halls seemed empty, perhaps due to the heat. It was disheartening but when Hephaestion heard his father clear his throat he averted his attention from thoughts of Alexander. The King had addressed him and he had missed it entirely.

"At least we know he will not betray your secrets," Philip said at Hephaestion's expense. His father looked him over momentarily and then shook his head. Hephaestion knew well enough what this discussion was about. His father had decided it best not to take Hephaestion with him on further business. He had come at Philip's request, but had been planning to mention leaving his son in Pella at the first opportunity. This must have been it.

"Hephaestion, come with me," the King demanded. He dismissed Amyntor and Hephaestion followed him into one of the wine rooms. There were normally wine bearers in the room, but Hephaestion could not blame them for their absence. He had heard, as had others, that the King was fond of taking women in these rooms. If they consented or not, no one truly knew, but tongues often suggested consent was not Philip's priority. Hephaestion knew the danger of entering the room, but he could not turn back. Philip poured himself a cup of wine and looked him over again.

"My son is fond of you?"

"I'm afraid I do not understand the meaning of your question," he answered carefully, watching Philip's every move as one of Olympias' serpents would watch a mouse. He had been gone for some time but he knew the games the politicians in Pella played. While Philip was not the best at word games, for no one could outshine Olympias in that regard, he was not a complete fool either. Hephaestion knew precisely what Philip meant, but he wouldn't let him know that.

"You're friends. Of his companions, you are his favorite."

"You would have to ask him, my King."

"Don't be coy with me boy. I see it well enough, the way that he looks at you. Did your father tell you about the position Alexander is to fill when I am dead? Did he tell you what position you will fill?"

It was direct enough on the surface, but it was the malice underneath that Hephaestion was interested in. He knew that he would always be safe with Alexander. Yet with Philip and Olympias he could never be sure. Either would slice Alexander's throat if they thought it would suit to gain them more power than they already had.

"Alexander will be King."

"And you?"

"I will be what he commands me to be," he answered, not hesitating in the slightest. This was the first response he did not need to think about.

"Yes," Philip nodded, pouring himself more wine. "You will be what he wants, but let me warn you about what my son desires of you. He would make you his whore, given the opportunity. He would use you like I have used the whores who eagerly spread their legs for me. You think I love them? You think their position is elevated when I spill my seed inside of them? At best they carry my bastards, but that is all they will ever be, bastards without a claim. Most of them die young...but there are a few that remain. I give them to my generals to raise. I keep them close. My son would make you his whore and you would never be more. If you keep your distance from him, perhaps one day you'll be a general, like your father."

"Our friendship does not include sexual exploitation, my King."

"No, not yet. But I know the boy better than you do. You're already marked, you just haven't seen it for yourself. But the next time my son is near you, the next time he breathes upon your neck, or moves to touch his cock while thinking of you –ask yourself, is Amyntor your father? How do you know you are not one of my bastards, kept close in case I have need of you? Surely you have wondered if he's your father...you look nothing like him, you know."

Hephaestion took several steps away from Alexander, offending him greatly. However, in truth, he had wondered about his relation to Amyntor. It was true that they looked nothing alike but he was educated enough to know that he could look like his mother, a woman that he had not known. There had always been talk of Philip's bastards though. As a boy he had not listened to it, had not cared to listen, but now things were different. He had to consider Philip's words. He was not worried about his own name, or what others thought of him. But he did not want for the gossips to speak ill of Alexander. He was a prince. He would be King one day, and he would need an heir, something that he could never provide. Even tempting the Fates and spending one brief moment in Alexander's arms could have consequences. He would not risk Alexander. And, if there was any truth in Philip's warning, he would not want Alexander to think of him at all.

"Was it my mother? My father? Your father perhaps?" Alexander asked, pushing Hephaestion's arm away before turning. Frustrated, he began to pace the small corner of the room. "Which one have you sided with against me?"

"I am never against you, Alexander."

"I trusted you because you were not like them," Alexander began, making his way to the door, "but I'm starting to think you're no better."

Alexander let the door close behind him. There was only one other person from whom he ever sought advice, and though she could not always be trusted, she was better than the silence that would eat away at him in his chambers. As he suspected, his mother was not at the feast and had locked herself away with her ladies. The guards let him into the room and she dismissed the women, offering smiles as they left. He was uncertain of what he had interrupted, but she did not seem angry. Instead, she seemed pleased to see him. He embraced her quickly and allowed her to press a kiss to his forehead. He hated it, but it made her happy.

"You seem tense. Are the festivities not to your liking?"

"Would you turn him against me?" he asked.

"Your father is already against you," she offered, pulling him onto the edge of the bed. She ran her hand over his cheek and frowned slightly. Her eyes seemed to pierce through him in a predatory manner. He turned his head away. Worried, she asked, "What has he done?"

"Hephaestion. I am speaking of Hephaestion. Would you turn him against me?"

"The boy will never turn from you. He is pure. It will kill him, but it is still his greatest asset in a world of liars. What is wrong? Have you fought over something, a young woman perhaps?"

"He's changed. He's distant, he's nothing like himself."

"He has only just returned," she suggested. When her son did not look at her, only the tiled floor, she sighed heavily. The noise caused him to look to her. She placed a hand on his and asked, "What is it you want from him?"

"Nothing, I just want him."

"Then take him."

"I'm not my father," he angrily replied, pulling his hand away. He pushed her attempts to keep him still away and stood, returning to his pacing. He crossed his arms over his chest and paused momentarily to glance in her direction. "Someone told him something, someone did something to make him act this way. You wouldn't –you enjoy having him around to protect me. Who then? And what threats could keep Hephaestion from telling me about them?"

"Ask him. He will tell you."

"He said nothing a few moments ago."

"Did you ask, or did you hasten to anger?" She raised an eyebrow when he did not answer, and then added, "Anger flows in your blood. My anger, your father's anger, the anger of Zeus who knows you are his true heir to Olympus...it all flows within you. If you want to earn Hephaestion's trust you cannot act out. He is of a gentle nature. He is not like us, my son. Hephaestion is brave enough to let the others speak against him, but he only does so to protect you. Their words sting though –I've seen this myself. But when you are angry with him, when you speak against him, it cuts him inwardly Alexander."

"Yet you suggest taking him?"

She raised an eyebrow. "I did not say force yourself upon him. I merely suggested that if he hesitates based on the words of others, do not give him the chance to hesitate. He loves you, that is clear enough."

Alexander knew that Olympias had at first been concerned with his companionship with Hephaestion. Yet she'd realized quickly that Hephaestion had no desire to sway his mind from Olympias' agenda. In fact, they'd both made the discovery that Hephaestion cared little for Olympias' personal war against Philip. His silent confidence was easily gained, and Alexander's mother quickly understood the boys worth. He would defend Alexander, she believed even with his life if needed, and Alexander was a better person when he was around him. It would also be easier to convince him to wed a girl of her choosing if he was disinterested in women altogether. All of Olympias' advice served her ultimate goal, to make the young man before her a king. Today's thoughts were no different, and for that along Alexander knew it would not benefit him in the slightest. He nodded, pretended to agree fully with her, and then told her he had other business to attend to. It was a lie, of course, but she did not seem to question his desire to leave.

As he passed through the halls he could hear the sound of celebration in the grand dining room. It was late and the wine was being consumed. Alexander knew well enough that his father was making a fool of himself. This was confirmed when a woman with both breasts exposed passed him in the hall, one of Philip's generals following close behind with burgundy staining his chiton. Alexander kept his eyes on the floor and quickly disappeared down another winding hall but tomorrow the general would not be the wiser of the prince's presence. For half an hour he continued turning left and right, wandering in no particular direction. He tried to reorganize his thoughts but nothing seemed to connect. There was only one place in which he could make sense of things, and that was by Hephaestion's side. But this was the only place that he was unwelcome. Drawing in a quick breath, he turned on his heels and made his way back to Hephaestion's quarters. His heart sank when his knock was returned with nothing but silence. Frowning, he tried again, this time rapping louder. Still there was nothing, but he heard the sound of footsteps from behind. He glanced over his shoulder and caught a brief glance of Ptolemy's curled hair. His friend greeted him with a smile.

"Are you drunk?" Ptolemy asked, smiling wider as he spoke. Following his words he tripped on something Alexander could not see. He laughed, quickly leaping back up from the ground and reaching for Alexander's shoulder. With pride he added, "I think I have had enough for the night."

"Perhaps," Alexander agreed. While the distraction did not interest him, he hoped that Ptolemy would know where Hephaestion was. He would not have gone to his father's celebration –but that was the old Hephaestion. Now Alexander was sure of nothing when it came to the young man who'd once been his closest friend.

"Are we riding out tonight?" Ptolemy asked, supporting himself on Alexander's shoulder as his friend helped him into his rooms. "I thought we'd hunt."

"Not tonight," Alexander answered, tossing his friend onto his thin bedding. "I'm afraid the moon disagrees with your plan. Besides, you'd fall from the horse before raising your spear. So rest, my friend. We'll think of hunting on another night."

"Fine," he replied.

"Do you know where Hephaestion is?"

"He's probably with Alexander," was the reply that Ptolemy gave, his eyes rolling back in his head as he attempted to make himself comfortable. Alexander should have known not to expect more, but he held nothing against Ptolemy. At least he'd managed to make it back to his room before collapsing. Disappointed, he left Ptolemy in search of Hephaestion.

It had never been difficult to find Hephaestion. As boys it had always been easy to find him when he had wandered away from the others and while his other characteristics changed this had remained ever the same. He lacked the ability to be deceptive, so even during games of strategy Alexander had always known exactly where to find him. The others had never been so lucky, Hephaestion could easily hide from Cassander and Ptolemy if needed, but Alexander knew it was only because they did not understand Hephaestion's mind. The greatest strength Hephaestion had was his ability to silently blend into his surroundings, to listen and to watch without being noticed, to absorb everything before him while forgetting nothing in the process. He practiced this gift in only a few places –and Alexander knew that during a celebratory feast Hephaestion would want to ignore politics. However, he'd always been interested in Cassander's follies. Alexander suspected that Hephaestion trusted next to no one, but knew that he distrusted Cassander with every bone in his body. When Alexander reached the edge of the mediocre gardens his mother had insisted upon building off the East wing of the palace he was not surprised to hear feminine whimpers and Cassander's dark laugh. Hephaestion's silhouette perched on a bench overlooking the scene did not surprise him either.

"You shouldn't be here,'" Hephaestion said quietly, averting his gaze to the stars. Alexander glanced up but was not as mesmerized as Hephaestion –another difference between them that he reminded himself he needed to rectify. Ignoring Hephaestion's statement, Alexander sat and stole a glance in Cassander's direction. One of the shrubs was blocking his view of anything too intimate, but he didn't mind. He wasn't there to critique Cassander's technique or memorize the young woman's face for later reference. He was there to mend things with Hephaestion.

"Your mood has improved."

"I hadn't noticed," Hephaestion answered dryly.

"Are all men destined to become their fathers?" Alexander asked, knowing that this would bring Hephaestion around. He could not ignore questions, especially those that required intense thought, but unlike Ptolemy he had the ability to liven the mood, even when his words were bleak. As the prince expected Hephaestion's eyes briefly looked in his direction and then moved back to the stars. As he thought Alexander could see the tension in his shoulders lifting. He was relaxing. The thoughts that had been plaguing him, those that Alexander could not comprehend, the thoughts that his friend wished to keep to himself, were being taken from him by the philosophers of years long passed as he pondered the question. He needed no clues from Alexander. He knew what he was asking. Yet the response that Hephaestion gave him was unexpected.

"Your decline is inevitable," Hephaestion said quietly. He only continued when Alexander tilted his head back and began to gaze at the stars. "Fate and blood will be your constant rivals. You'll never be able to outrun your mother and you'll always carry the same blood as your father. I don't think you are destined to become your father though," he added with unquestioned sincerity. "All great men have to meet their end, it's the natural order of the world. Hector fell. Your beloved Achilles fell. And one day you will fall –perhaps you'll fall in battle, maybe you will fall to an assassin's poison, or as I would prefer you could die an old, old man surrounded by your children and your children's children. But you don't have to be Philip to meet your end. You could choose to drink yourself into a stupor, or you could never touch Macedonian wine again. Death will still take you from this world."

Alexander had taken his eyes from the skies only a few moments into Hephaestion's speech. Despite his best efforts it was impossible to ignore the pull of Hephaestion's voice. At times Alexander couldn't even make out the words and just watched his eyes or his lips move. At others he had memorized each and every word. But he realized something this time, something that he had never picked up on before. It caused him to swallow the sudden lump that resided in his throat.

"I'm sorry," Alexander whispered. Hephaestion turned his head to look at him and he continued. "I don't listen to you enough."

"I know," Hephaestion laughed, unable to withhold a momentary happiness. He knew that he had to keep his distance from Alexander but he could not change his feelings.

"I don't blame you," the darker hair boy said. "At times my words run away from me. Sometimes I don't even know what I'm saying. You can stop me if I begin to ramble."

"No, I mean I'm sorry for not listening to you. Really listening."

This brought silence between them once more. Alexander accepted it for a few moments. He found himself irritated by Cassander's grunts but it did not take the hidden lover long to finish his business. Upon doing so he left. The girls left shortly after. Hephaestion's eyes followed her for a moment and then he looked away. Alexander knew that he was not interested in her, but that part of him was generally concerned for the girl. It was no secret that Cassander was often rough with his interests. Deciding that the silence was no longer acceptable Alexander attempted another conversation.

"You could never be your father," he told Hephaestion. "You're smarter than he is. You're not caught up in this like the rest of us. You're not scared of anything in this palace."

"I'm afraid," he corrected.

Noting his opportunity to get to the bottom of Hephaestion's change in mood Alexander asked, "What are you afraid of?"

"Do you know who I am?"

"Of course I do."

"You can't. I don't even know who I am."

Hephaestion said nothing more. When he rose Alexander had no choice but to watch him leave the garden. His heart sunk as Hephaestion left but he knew that hope was not lost. He knew exactly who and what Hephaestion was. Better yet, he knew an ally that would be able to convince him of exactly who he was.

After leaving the garden the night before Hephaestion had managed to avoid Alexander for an entire day. It was harder than he had expected. Their friendship had begun years ago and the only time they'd spent apart had been when Hephaestion was forced to go to Athens with his father. They'd never remained separated for long when in the same palace though. It was normal for Hephaestion to wake in the morning, dress, and meet Alexander for breakfast. When he woke in the morning he told himself that he avoided the dining halls. He left his room and busied himself with random tasks. He knew Alexander well enough to know what others had planned for him in a day. This information made it easy to avoid him, but on more than one occasion Hephaestion found himself aimlessly drifting towards Alexander's rooms. Each time he turned back and told himself that there could be nothing between himself and Alexander. Even their friendship would be hard to continue if he could not force himself to stop loving him.

It was near dusk when he returned to his room and collapsed on the bed. In a day where he had done numerous tasks in order to busy himself he felt as if he had accomplished next to nothing. A few minutes of rest would soothe him before he had to find a way to seek dinner without entering the dining hall. Yet his moment of relaxation was cut short by a knock on the door. For a split second he considered ignoring the knock. Perhaps whoever it was would go away and leave him alone. He also knew that he didn't have the strength to tell Alexander to leave if he found him behind the door. When the knock came again he knew that he could not hide. Sighing, he pushed himself up and went to the door. After pulling the door open he quickly took a step back. Olympias raised an eyebrow, which immediately sent a slight chill up his neck.

"Is my son with you?"

"No. I haven't seen him," Hephaestion replied.

"Perfect," she said, smirking and extending her hand. When he did not instantly take it her eyes narrowed. Hand still in the air she warned, "Would you want your queen to think that you are repulsed by her presence?"

Hephaestion did not want her to think this but he knew that nothing could shatter Olympias' confidence –especially confidence in herself. She was baiting him. He knew this but also knew that he could not refuse her. Without a word he put his hand out and Olympias quickly laced her fingers with his. As she drew him out of the room she wrapped his left arm around her waist. Before he could pull his hand away she placed her hand over his, forcing him into a position that made him greatly uncomfortable. Once she had secured his hand she snaked her right arm around him, placing her hand on his shoulder. Her fingers felt cool against his skin, sending a new set of shivers through his body.

"Great men are born in pairs," she told him, leading him down a winding hall. He recognized her path. She was leading them out of the palace. "Did you know that?"

"If you're planning on leaving the palace this late you should have more guards."

"This rift between you and Alexander is good for neither of you," she continued, and ignoring his advice she pushed through a secluded door and pulled Hephaestion out into the streets of Pella. "I thought you would be able to fix things yourselves but I have heard that no progress has been made. Tell me, who advised you to keep your distance from Alexander?"

"I was not…"

"Allow me to help you grow into a man," she interjected. "You cannot lie. The moment you decide to lie your eyes betray you. Now, perhaps other could be convinced, but a liar knows a liar. All men lie, and most women lie. That won't be good for you if you try to lie within this palace. So, I ask again, who threatened you?"

This time Hephaestion said nothing. He stopped in the deserted street and pulled his hand from the queen's waist. Taking a step back he folded his arms over his chest and turned his attention to the ground. Olympias laughed and reached for his arm.

"Your silence will someday be appreciated. When my son is king he will need someone that he can trust. I have no doubt that you will be that man. You're a pair, both destined to rise to power in very different ways. Whether you want to be his friend, his advisor, his lover, I don't care. I only want you to be in his life. But Alexander informs me that you no longer know who you are."

Like a snake she had lured him into giving her his full attention. When she stopped and released his arm he looked at their surroundings. They stood in a small plot of land that had been marked off with broken pieces of wood. Within the plot gray and brown bushes scattered the ground. Hephaestion glanced at the remains of what appeared to have been a grand garden but did not recognize it. Olympias' eyes wandered over the field for a moment before she turned back to him.

"You've been here before," she reminded him. "You were young, very young, and probably don't recognize it now."

"I don't," he admitted.

"This was your mother's. She was my first lady in waiting when I arrive in this forsaken piece of dirt when I married that pig Philip. He gave me several tracts of land but forbid me to leave the palace. He's cruel like that. But your mother had always been good with plants, better than I, so I gave this to her. She stole the water from my baths when there were no rains. And one day she was dragging a bucket of water to this very garden when Amyntor, back from a hunt with Philip, saw her. He told Philip to ride on, leapt from his horse, and fell madly in love with her. They were married and you were born ten months later."

"You were friends with my mother?"

"Yes, but your father never took a liking to me. He's under Philip's influence, and he always will be."

Olympias drew in a short breath and lifted a hand to her eyes. Hephaestion watched her wipe tears away. He did not know how to console her and said nothing. Instead he gazed at the twisted branches and rotting soil. He did not remember the garden. After several minutes of silence Olympias turned away from the decayed spot of land and began her trek back to the palace. Hephaestion looked over his shoulder and watched her for a moment. Her movements were fluid, graceful, but there was a deadly component to the sway of her hips. Frowning, and without memories of the garden, he quickly returned to her side.

"Ah," she smirked, "there you are."

"I'm not angry with Alexander. He hasn't done anything, which I told him. Maybe he will listen to you."

"Do you love him?"

He said nothing. There were no words to truly convey what he felt about Alexander. Most of the time he wanted to spend every waking moment with him. On rare occasions he hated him, but he hated him in a way far different than the way he hated Cassander. It wasn't that he wished ill upon Cassander –but if he suddenly fell off of the edge of the universe he wouldn't mind. His hate for Alexander, when he had it, was a feeling that he could not fully comprehend. It was as if he wanted to kick him but at the same time still had a desire to protect him. Strange as it was he knew that he missed it when he was in Athens. And he'd missed it throughout the day.

"Then I don't understand your hesitation," Olympias said, sneaking back into the walls of the palace. "Do you know what I have always enjoyed about you, Hephaestion? You're not afraid of the things you should be. You're not afraid of me, not of my son, not of your father. Nothing seems to trouble you. But now, for whatever reason, you're backed into a corner. I see fear in your eyes," she said as she placed a hand on his cheek. "What did Philip say to you Hephaestion?"

Again he said nothing, not because he wanted to protect Philip and not because he wanted to protect Olympias. He wanted to protect Alexander from being in the middle of a war they had started long before his birth. Nodding, Olympias turned another corner and stopped in front of Hephaestion's door.

"If you have suddenly forgotten who you are, then I think I know what he said. You were too young to know your mother but I knew her until she died. She loved your father, loved him in a way that I've only loved Alexander. I promise, she was your mother, and Amyntor is your only father."

Hephaestion did not have the opportunity to say anything more. As swiftly as she had come she had left him at his door, likely on to complete more of her after hours bidding. Hephaestion paused, his hand resting on the door, his thoughts still on the garden, and everything in his body aching for Alexander. Deciding against searching for Alexander he entered the room and considered sleeping instead. It did not surprise him that sleep refused to come.

The light first cast over the pages of the decaying text was waning. Noticing the dimness Alexander stole a glance at the oil-soaked reading torch. The oil was almost gone and the flames were lapping at all the oxygen they could. Even though the remaining light would not last long Alexander returned to Homer's greatest work. The Iliad was his favorite, and Achilles' confrontation with Hector, Tamer of Horses, had always interested him the most. Hector was honorable, no doubt well intentioned, but Achilles was Alexander's ancestor, his blood, and as a child he had easily become his favorite. Yet now he wondered what this choice said about him. Did he value Achilles because he was unchallenged on the field of battle? Did he value him blindly when Hector deserved the same consideration?

The light went out and Alexander, still frowning as he thought of his reasoning, shut the book for the night. It would be wise to sleep, as Cleitus intended to take him in a boar hunt in the early morning, but he had been unable to divert his attention fro his troubles with Hephaestion. A constant need to be moving, to be doing anything other than remaining still, had swept over him. He could not sleep knowing that Hephaestion had continued to ignore him throughout the day. It burned to know that Hephaestion did not trust him enough to share whatever struggle he was going through with him. It hurt even more to know that Hephaestion had always been able to see his distress, to pull every detail from him as if it were nothing, but when roles were reversed he could only tell that Hephaestion was different. He couldn't piece his mood together. He couldn't convince him to share anything, and worse still, Hephaestion didn't have the need to. It was as if he wanted to deal with matters by himself. Simply, Hephaestion did not depend on him in the way that he so desperately needed him.

Lost in his thoughts he did not hear the first knock on the door. He almost did not hear the second knock, the rapping so soft it was almost indistinguishable. Alexander stood and made his way to the door. On the way he carefully set his copy of The Iliad in a small chest he'd ordered fashioned for his most prized possession's protection. There was no way of knowing who was behind the door but Alexander doubted it was someone unknown to him. He pulled the door open but saw no one. He warily stepped into the hall and spotted Hephaestion's back, his long hair easily giving away his identity. Before Hephaestion could leave Alexander whispered his name. He doubted that his mother's spies were interested in how he spent his nights and knew that his father's were passed out drunk. Yet Hephaestion's quiet knock might have been a sign that others were awake and wandering Pella's halls.

Hephaestion turned. The torches positioned behind Alexander caught Hephaestion's cerulean eyes and the prince felt his chest tighten. As Hephaestion came nearer he slipped into his room. Hephaestion followed, shutting the door behind them. Still unsure of why he had chosen to come Alexander let Hephaestion control the situation. He said nothing, only waited quietly in the center of the shadow-filled room. When he released the breath that he had been holding since the hallway Hephaestion began to speak.

"You listen to me," he said, his voice low. "I didn't mean to suggest otherwise."

"Don't," Alexander warned. "You don't have to say anything. You said what you meant. That's all I've ever asked of you."

"I meant it when I said that I wasn't angry with you," Hephaestion continued. Alexander watched him as he came further into the room and wrung his hands together. "I just thought that it would be better if we spent some time apart."

"Hmm. What did my father say? Did he threaten to send you back to Athens? It wouldn't work, you know. I'd follow you."

"No, he didn't threaten you. It doesn't matter what he said," he elaborated, becoming frustrated as he spoke. "I was mistaken to have believed anything he said. Someone reminded me of that."

Alexander knew that Hephaestion had not come to apologize. He'd never felt the need to explain himself either. Anxiousness seemed to radiate from him as he shifted his weight back and forth. It took him a moment to become comfortable but Alexander did not speak. He did not want to risk saying something that would force him to leave. Alexander knew what Hephaestion wanted. It was the same thing that he had wanted since Hephaestion had returned from Athens. It was what they had wanted since before Athens. Neither had been able to justify it, to put it into words, or to act upon it out of fear of rejection. Even now Alexander felt it. He licked his lips. While he did he noted that Hephaestion watched him. The silence was eating at them, clawing through them like a wildcat. When Alexander could take it no longer he spoke.

"Come here," he said. It was not an order. It was a suggestion, a suggestion that Hephaestion eagerly abided. He closed the distance between himself and Alexander. His arms remained at his side and he kept his eyes on Alexander's. Alexander could feel Hephaestion's breath. He could smell his skin. He was so near he could almost touch him. And he wanted to touch him, he needed to touch him, and he had to touch him. He reached out and pressed his hand against Hephaestion's chest. The sudden movement caused Hephaestion to gasp but he did not recoil from Alexander's palm. Instead, he leaned into him. This acceptance, the shared approval, was all that either young man needed.

Alexander slipped his hand around Hephaestion's neck, his dark hair wound within his fingers, and pulled him nearer. Their lips met in a hard kiss. It seemed more of a fight than a kiss at first. They clung to one another, hands searching, mouths attempting to conquer the other. They kissed in such a way that when they finally broke their lungs screamed for air. Alexander stepped back first. His heart raced and his body felt as if it was imploding upon itself. Hephaestion did not move when Alexander stepped away, only caught his breath.

"I didn't…" Alexander began, but Hephaestion shook his head, silencing the rest of his explanation. He should have known that Hephaestion did not need him to say anything further.

Seconds passed but the burning in Alexander's chest did not subside. What he felt was no longer a dream, a fantasy that came to him in the night and troubled his sleep. This was far different. It was more important, more fulfilling than all of the dreams that he had been given of Hephaestion. He wanted him, something that he could no longer deny. After the first kiss it was clear that Hephaestion was meant to be more than a friend. He was more than an advisor. He would be more than what others thought him to be while becoming a secret for only Alexander to know of. Despite years of friendship he would now become his lover. He could tell this as Hephaestion caught his breath. The lust that Hephaestion felt for him was just as obvious as his own. Hephaestion followed Alexander's gaze down to the bottom of his chiton. Seeing his own lust for Alexander his face turned red. He began to choke out words but nothing managed to pass his lips. Now Alexander shook his head. Recalling his mother's suggestion he knew that this was the opportunity to take what he wanted.

"Stay the night?"

Hephaestion abruptly turned and made his way to the door. Instead of leaving, as Alexander first feared, he slid the lock into the door. He then spun back around and returned to Alexander. Everything about him had changed in a matter of minutes, but Alexander did not feel the need to question Hephaestion's newfound confidence. Once in front of Alexander he kissed him. He placed both hands on either side of Alexander's face and held him against him. His lips were warm and inviting, softer than Alexander would have expected, but as he kissed him he felt their strength. Using his lips Hephaestion only drew him closer.

Desperate to feel Hephaestion's skin against his own Alexander reached for the bottom of Hephaestion's chiton. He put his hands on the side of Hephaestion's thighs and began to move them upwards. The feeling sent a slight shiver up his spine but he continued to move his hands upward until his palm had found Hephaestion's erection. Hephaestion gasped, tilting his head back and biting his lower lip as Alexander ground his palm against him. Alexander took the opportunity to gain the advantage. He continued to grind one hand against Hephaestion's erection while the other searched for the clasp of the chiton. It was easy enough to disrobe Hephaestion. It was even easier to push him onto the nearby bed.

"This is wrong," Hephaestion whispered as he sat up. Even as he said the words he was reaching for Alexander's chiton. He pulled the woolen tunic away and carefully placed it on the edge of the bed.

"No," Alexander answered, gingerly running a hand through Hephaestion's hair as he kissed his forehead. "This should have happened sooner."

Hephaestion pulled Alexander onto the bed and began to kiss him again. This time he put an arm over Alexander, trapping him beneath him. Alexander did not mind. He continued to run his hands over Hephaestion's body, memorizing each muscle that his fingers encountered. When he ran his hand over Hephaestion's back he felt a small scar he couldn't remember. He wanted to ask him about it but Hephaestion was in the process of kissing his chest. He had started at the base of his neck but was now pulling his right nipple into his mouth. Alexander immediately felt a new tension in his thighs.

"Have you done this before? In Athens?"

"No," Hephaestion said in between a pull at his nipple. He paused a moment later and sat back. "I have no idea what I'm doing. I'm terrified."

Alexander pulled Hephaestion back to him. Their lips met in another kiss but this time without the fight for dominance. Hephaestion was the dominant kisser, his lips setting the pace and the friction, but Alexander initiated the rest. He thrust his hips against Hephaestion's. The feeling was euphoric, his skin brushing against Hephaestion's, his swollen erection inadvertently bumping against Hephaestion's. Hephaestion continued to kiss Alexander throughout his movements but each time Alexander shifted beneath him he felt his body threaten to surge. It made no sense, the sensations that were flowing through his body. Each touch stung but felt delicate at the same time. He wanted to stop but at the same time never wanted to leave the bed.

"You're perfect," Alexander said, once again pressing himself against Hephaestion. He pressed his hand on the small of Hephaestion's back, bringing Hephaestion down upon him. That was all it took. Within seconds they began to writhe against one another. There was no sense to the next minutes that passed. It was a blur, a fleeting moment, and in the aftermath they both lay tangled amongst one another. His body still trembling, his thoughts still swimming, Alexander began to untangle himself from Hephaestion's legs. He pressed himself against Hephaestion's back, surprised at how well all of Hephaestion's curves lined up with his own. Hephaestion reached for his arm. Once settled Alexander's arm was draped over the curve of Hephaestion's hip. The other rested carelessly on his shoulder while he toyed with his dark hair. Hephaestion reached for the hand draped over his hip.

"You're thinking," Alexander whispered, pressing a soft kiss against Hephaestion's shoulder. Hephaestion laughed.

"Am I?"

"I can always tell. You get quiet and your entire body goes still." He kissed his shoulder again before adding, "Are you thinking of ways to avoid me tomorrow?"

"Worse," he admitted. "I'm thinking of ways to sneak out before sunrise. Ptolemy has probably stumbled into our room. He'll know if I'm gone. And if your father learns of this he'll..."

"Is this how its going to be between us? Stolen looks in empty halls, secret nights of lovemaking?"

"For now."

Alexander could hear the pain in Hephaestion's voice as he said it. Sighing, Alexander kissed Hephaestion's shoulder, then the crook of his neck. He knew that Hephaestion was right. He was always right. If he were going to have him then he would have to keep him like this. Stolen looks and nights like these didn't sound as empty when he considered not having him at all.

"Stay with me a few more minutes."

Alexander closed his eyes and listened to the sound of Hephaestion's chest as it rose and fell. Moments later he was asleep. Hephaestion lingered for some time, careful not to wake Alexander as he slipped from his grasp. After offering him one last kiss on the forehead before leaving Hephaestion slipped into the hall. He was careful on his return to his room, making sure that no one saw him. It would be this way as long as it continued. He did not mind. He'd woken in the morning unsure of who he was, but he would sleep tonight knowing exactly who he had become. It had nothing to do with the mention of a garden. It had everything to do with the way that Alexander looked at him.

A/N: Thank you for reading! As always, feel free to leave a comment if you have time. And as I promised above, I will return to finish the stories that were left in limbo during my leave of absence from all of my fanfiction fans.