This story is dedicated to Grace, whose gentle but persistent encouragement kept the Alexander fandom always in my mind, though never as a burden. Without her I doubt I would ever have returned to this fandom or researched this fascinating bit of history. So here is my birthday present to her. This is also for my grandmother, whose eighty-seventh birthday is tomorrow. It was she who passed along her love for the ancient world to me, thereby shaping a large part of my professional as well as my personal life. I doubt she would approve of this version of events and I'm sure I'll never show her, but I dedicate it to her anyway.
Disclaimer: I own nothing from either history or Oliver Stone's movie, on which I draw for a lot of this. After all, who isn't in love with Jared Leto's Hephaestion?
A Father's Love (1 of 3)
'Now remember, Hephaestion,' Alexander teased his friend good-naturedly, 'if you do not give him your name I will be forced to name my next son so.' At his words, Hephaestion's anxious eyes looked back at him, his features still marred by the grimace that had taken residence there since he'd been informed Drypteis was having her lie-in. Alexander grinned at him wickedly. 'Someone should carry on your name and if it's not your own son then it will be mine.' Hephaestion was still staring at him with frightened eyes. 'Well go on, go meet your son!' Alexander enthused, giving his unmoving friend a shove in the right direction. This prompted Hephaestion into action and he hesitantly followed the servant girl into his wife's chambers, looking for all the world like he was going to his own execution. Alexander grinned at his friend's silly behaviour.
The girl stopped next to a bassinet and Hephaestion drew to a halt beside her, shooting a glance at the bed where Drypteis was sleeping the sleep of the exhausted before looking into the bassinet.
'Your daughter, my lord,' the girl said before moving over to the bed to check on her mistress. At her words, Alexander felt a stab of disappointment run through him. A daughter. No heir for his dear friend, no son for him to teach the arts of horsemanship and war craft, to inherit his gentle and steadfast temper, to be a companion in all to his own son, like his father had been to him. Then he looked at his friend as he bent over the bassinet to look at his daughter, a look of wonder washing over his face and stealing his breath.
'My daughter,' Hephaestion whispered, reaching down to touch the child, and after a moment's hesitation he traced a featherlike path down her rosy cheek. At the touch, the infant's eyes opened slowly and Alexander drew in a breath, drawing unconsciously closer to the bassinet when he saw the cerulean eyes that he had known through years of love remade for this little creature.
The girl who'd led them in stepped forward from the oblivion the two men had resigned her to to lift the infant from her bed and place her in her father's arms, before silently blending into the shadows again. Hephaestion gazed at his daughter with awe before looking up at Alexander who saw that his eyes were bright with tears and an almost overflowing love.
'I have a daughter, Alexander,' he said, his voice hoarse, the Greek as coarse as when they were boys. Alexander could only grin back at him, overcome by Hephaestion's happiness. Hephaestion only held his eyes for a moment before looking back at the child cradled in his arms, unable to draw his eyes away for long. 'Cassandra,' he said, almost whispering the name against her forehead as he placed a gentle kiss there, 'I'll call you Cassandra.'
Alexander, able to get his emotions under control now that he wasn't caught in Hephaestion's gaze, couldn't resist a small tease. 'What has Cassander done to deserve this honour?' he quipped, imagining Cassander's face when he learned he had a namesake in Hephaestion's daughter.
The question earned him the return of Hephaestion's gaze who, with simple honesty said, 'Cassander cannot help that in name, he is part of you. Cassandra is merely a variation of Alexandra.' His words rendered Alexander speechless and, unable to hold his friend's gaze, he found himself carefully studying the child. Though he knew Cassander would find it an insult to have the daughter of Hephaestion named after him, he couldn't help but feel humbled by it. And he decided as he gazed at her that, aside from her father, this little girl might be the most beautiful creature he had ever seen.
To Be Continued
