Hephaistion's dark secret

Author: Hephaistion

Type: FPS

Rating: R

Disclaimer:Warnings: D/s, angst, non-con, character death

Pairing: Hephaistion/Cleitos, Hephaistion/Alexander, surprise pairing at the end

Author's note: Thanks to Annie – Enigmata for the translation!

-1-

(POV: Hephaistion, son of Amyntor)

I see your gaze.
More to the point: I can feel your gaze resting upon me.
How long has it been, that I felt it for the first time?

I think I was just a child. A boy at the court of Pella, and you were one of
the most important friends of the king.
In those days you were looking at me like you did at all the other boys at
court - disparagingly, almost a little condescendingy, superior.
We were children to your eyes; you were a man.

And what a man! I remember watching you in secret.
I wanted to be like you.
Did you even know that?
I wanted to be just like you. Hard, manly, dark, reckless, courageous.
Always a cutting remark upon your lips, sarcastic and mocking; you never
showed any weakness.

But even then I was aware, that I was just admiring you because you were so
different than I, myself. Even then.

You were a friend to Philip - nothing more. You were an advisor to him, a
faithful, loyal companion, leader of his horsemen, you drank with him until
you dropped under the table where you found him again; you were supporting
him in everything he did.

But you've always had your affairs, and always with young men - young, but
men already. You called them Boys and with that showed them their place -
you never really desired boys, for that you were too strong, too hard - you
would have destroyed boys with your nature. Not that it wasn't customary in
Macedon - but you never wanted that. And therefore you probably never even
noticed the looks I gave you when I was 16 or 17... I was off limits for you
because I was too young - and I was off limits because I was his friend.

At some point that changed, everything changed.

I remember precisely, when that happened.

And it isn't one of my glorious memories - only now, I dare writing it down,
entrust it to the scratching feather and the patience of the papyrus. Now
that you are dead. And nobody will ever know of it, as the moment that I am
finished writing my tale - mine and yours - this piece of papyrus will be
sacrificed to fire; I will make a gift to Hephaistos and tear this
devastating passion from my chest, so that you may stay in the realm of
Hades ever after, forgotten, and no Eurydike will descend for you to free
you, my Orpheus... No, I want to forget you and everything that was related
to you and may still be so.

I have to read it. I have to read it to see it written down, to make myself
realize that all of it truly happened. And to forget it for all time.

I wish none of this had happened!

What I would give to be able to change the course of history, to be able to
undo the things that happened. If only there was a bath that could cleanse
me of you! Of everything you did to me, and I allowed you to. No, I wanted
it. By all the Erinyes, that are haunting me now, I wanted it; it was my
choice. I wanted it from the moment I first laid eyes on you. And nothing
could dissuade me from it. Nothing. Nothing could hinder me from beginning
this devastating thing, or more truly: from not preventing it. Or have I not
already begun it all those years ago, by watching you even then? I should
have kept my eyes to myself, should have controlled myself, but there are
things stronger than I. So much stronger. Not even love could hinder me -
not even that. You were so very much stronger than everything I held dear.
You forced your dark secret upon me, simply by existing. If only I had never
met you!

But how was I supposed to stay away from you? You were everywhere.
First, you were everywhere Philip was, then, you were everywhere Alexander
was.
You were always there, and so was I - how could we have kept apart?
How could I have lowered my eyes when you were standing right before me?

I could not do it; I failed.

And not only once.

I want to forget.

Now that you are dead, I want to forget you at last. I will be relieved
after I finished writing all of this down and my memories have taken shape,
so that I may destroy them.

But now, for a while, I want to recall; to remember your gaze, and the
moment when everything changed.

It was on the eve of the great battle...

I was with Alexander, and we talked. The sky darkened and so did the moon -
and he was afraid; I could almost touch his fear.

We were all afraid.

And there was nothing more natural than to share this fear; to be with the
one you loved.

I wanted to be with Alexander. I wanted to hold him in my arms, be close to
him, to hear his voice. Maybe I wanted to make love to him, one last time;
and so I walked over to him when I saw him praying.

And he talked to me.

Then he embraced me - and left me.

He just walked away, making it obvious he did not want to share with me this
night that may well have been our very last.

He wanted to be alone.

He preferred loneliness to my company.

My heart contracted painfully, and I felt so many emotions welling up inside
me... disappointment, loneliness, fear, desperation.

And defiance.

My defiance awoke as I saw your steady gaze.

You were looking at me like never before.

Or maybe I simply did not notice before; I wasn't allowed to notice before.

Your black eyes pierced though me, and I felt as if flames of fire were
lashing out at me.

No words were necessary. You came to me, and I stood still, spellbound, as I
have always been - like the rabbit before the snake that will devour it any
moment, but still it cannot flee.

If only Alexander had not sent me away that evening!

Everything would have turned out differently.

But as it was, your arms closed around me, pulled me away from the eyes of
the others.

No one saw what truly happened; no one saw what you truly wanted of me. And
in the darkness of the hidden moon, I lost myself to my blackest fantasy.

It was turning into reality as you forced me to my knees, and I did not
struggle.

I could sense your contempt for me, feel it and more.

You used me, as you would have used anybody, and it gave you great
satisfaction that it was I. And that I craved for it.

Long you must have been watching me, to have been so sure about it - you did
have a long time for doing so.

What I did then, with you, it was not about affection, let alone friendship
or love. Never did I hate you more than in this night, as you subjugated me
to your lust, as you took your opportunity, as you violated your king's
lover. And I allowed you to! Why, only you know, because you had been
soaking up all my looks from the moment I began gifting them to you. My sick
fascination for you, for your darkness, for your strength - that is what is
to blame for all that happened, all that found it's beginning in that night.

TBC