Title: Bedrest

Author: elomelo

Movie: Alexander

Pairing: A/H

Rating: T

Summary: A small accident escalates into more trouble than Alexander - or Hephaestion - bargained for. AxH

Warning(s): Mentions of sex

Disclaimer: I do not own Alexander in any way, shape or form, and make no profit writing this. Except self-satisfaction but who's counting?

A/N: This story takes place in Pella when Hephaestion was a teenager. It's nothing epic. This chapter's short but it is only the beginning.

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Chapter 1

It was a hot, dry day, and Hephaestion was considering how much it would hurt to fall of his horse dressed in a thin chiton. Because, if this continued any longer, he would do just that.

Cleitus was explaining something about snakes in the mountains but what had started as a strong stream of words had become a dull buzzing in Hephaestion's ears.

But he wasn't the only one with that sentiment; Cassander wasn't wearing his trademark smirk and seemed to be having difficulty keeping his eyes open, and Plotemy was making faces behind Cleitus's back while Alexander was trying not to laugh, lips twitching. Even the horses were pawing the ground restlessly, tossing their manes and flicking their tails.

"So do we understand each other, boys?" Cleitus barked suddenly. Apparently, his 'speech' had ended.

Thank the gods for that.

"Yessir!" Everyone chirped in response, sitting up straighter.

Cleitus did not look as if he believed it for a moment but sighed and cleared his throat "Be back here in an hour before sundown or Philip will have your heads." And I'll be more than happy to deliver them to him.

Cassander, ever the braggart, rode off in full speed and naturally, the others followed him – except Haphaestion. He sighed, watching Alexander's golden head amongst the herd, and pulled the reins of his horse so it wouldn't follow its fellow steed in excitement.

Alexander had recently recovered from a strong fever, the like of which that had gripped and killed many a man in Pella. But of course, the prince refused to rest more than necessary and once the wary physician had given the verdict, he'd shot out of bed and out the door like an arrow. And the first thing he did was go riding in this damned heat.

Well, it hadn't been the first thing. Hephaestion recalled the golden prince running into him – he was innocently going to visit his good friend who had recovered from illness - and kissing him roughly against the wall, grinding into him teasingly so. In the hall! Where anyone walking by would have seen them! But no one had walked by – thank the gods - and Alexander had enough sense to stop when he realized they bloody well couldn't make love in the hall, and pulled a panting Hephaestion into the nearest chamber to finish what he started.

And finished he did. Olympias's servants would throw a fit if they found the state of the spare bedchamber.

It was a wonder no one walked in then, what with everything they bumped into clattering to the floor and the moaning and whimpering and crying out.

"Something the matter, Amyntor?" Cleitus had pulled his horse up beside Hephaestion, dark eyes searching the blue ones suspiciously.

"It's nothing," he replied quickly, turning his head to hide the colour flooding is cheeks.

"It is not wise to think of such things when astride your steed, boy," the man said solemnly but the gruff bark of laughter and the wink betrayed him. He looked up, sparing Hephaestion a moment to recover himself. "Rain approaches Pella come morning. Best make use of the beast." He gave the boy's horse a sharp smack on the bottom.

And said boy found himself holding on for dear life as the perturbed animal charged across the dusty field. If anyone was yelling or calling out, Hephaestion could not hear them for his own yell and the pounding of his heart in his ears blocked out everything else. The horse suddenly bucked, neighing wildly; Hephaestion screamed and the ground rose up quickly to meet him. A loud crunch, a spasm of pain and the darkness engulfed him.

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The boy shielded his eyes from the sun and scanned the courtyard. His eyes meet those of the sunburned curly-haired Plotemy who waved him over, holding out a water-filled skin which Cassander heartily accepted.

"Damn this heat," he returned the skin with a nod of thanks.

Plotemy took a swig and burped in return, earning him a disgusted scowl from the dark-haired boy.

"Is he dead?"

"Don't get your hopes up. The Athenian whelp lives another day. Or so they say."

"Damn it."

"Alexander has taken him as a lover. It is but old news."

"It is a matter of time before the king sees his error and takes a better lover."

"You mean prince. Alexander is not yet king."

"Not yet. Give me that, will you? Damn this heat."

Plotemy studied his friend's face and the angry lines there before handing him the skin. Arguing with Cassander was fruitless, especially when it came to Alexander. Cassander did not relinquish his goals easily but there was something unusual about this particular infatuation. One could only wonder if it was the prince or his to-be crown that captivated the boy.

"Damn this heat," he nodded wholeheartedly, mentally shaking those thoughts out of his head. He didn't particularly dislike Hephaestion but his circle generally disliked outsiders who claimed more than their share of Alexander's attention, and he did not trouble himself with defending an outsider.

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Unbeknownst to the two boys, now fighting over who had finished the water, Olympias stepped back into the shadows and made her way back to Alexander's room. Prince or not, the son of Zeus was in a whole new world of trouble.