Who am I? Am I the friend, the companion, the advisor, the lover? I do not know. It has been a long time since I have known. It seems more and more that I have lost myself, though many would say it is Alexander who has lost his former self. They would say he is not the man he once was; they would say he is a shadow of his father.

I admit with shame there have been times when I have been loath to defend him against such accusations.

But all is forgotten now, as he holds my hand. I can feel in his eyes the love he once claimed he felt for me, and in his presence I do not fear death. I fear only what will become of my Alexander, greatest of all Alexanders. I forget his treachery, deceit, adulterous acts, I forget it all. He still wears the ring. Sickness has clouded my vision, but this I can still see. He still wears the ring and oh, how I wish I could kiss the hand that wears it!

For so long I have thought myself to be abandoned by him, a disposed of toy, replaced by Bagoas. The torture I have endured! - watching him fool around with the prettiest face in sight, man or woman.

Without looking around I still felt their eyes watching me. Though never public, our love was not hidden in ignorance of others. They all knew of my affection, and so they expected – hoped for – me to scorn my king like the jilted lover they and I both knew me to be. But I did not. I watched with all seeing eyes as he moved further away from me, and my one consolation was the glimmer of amber jewel around his finger, knowing only once the ring vanished from his attire would his love for me truly be lost.

And my faith in the greatest man to live has proved not in vain: he loves me, as I always knew he did.

All feeling of bitterness has left, all resentment and anger, as if illness had cleansed me of it. I no longer feel need to recall dark moments in which I watched him kiss the wine bearing slave, or lead his wife to their bedchambers, not a glance spared for me, whilst I remained silent, unloved by another, thanks to his possessive nature. I do not feel the hate that my heart tells me to feel. Only love for Alexander, my Alexander, whom I never let win, even now.

Others may mock me. Generals can hate me, Roxana can envy me, I care not for their pettiness; I may die now in peace! For my Achilles has come back to me, as I, Patroclus in spirit, knew one day he would.

Thank you, Alexander, for the words you speak. I cannot hear them, only the tone of your lilting voice. The darkness is coming for me, Alexander, and I have not a breath to bid you farewell. But know that I love you, and I hope you remember me when you conquest the East, as I know you one day will, my brave King. You are not your father, nor shall you ever truly be alike to Phillip. You are Alexander the Great, whom I love, though I must now leave, and when we meet again you may tell me of the victories you accomplish without me. May they be plentiful, and bring you the glory of Achilles in their wake.

Forget me not, brave king, and do not forget that it was I, Hephaestion, who loved you most dearly, admired you most fiercely, and served you most loyally, until this, my inglorious and bitter end.

Though not a huge fan of the film itself (in truth I really dislike it) I love the story a lot, and while watching it earlier today I felt the need to write something, and seeing as Hephaestion is such a good character to write about, I wrote what I think would be his last thoughts while Alexander visited him. Reviews are welcome and appreciated :)