Of Gods and Kings
Chapter 1: Decadence
After Alexander gets married, Hephaestion finds a lover of his own. ::: Hephaestion/OFC
((Note: This first chapter is revised. I am studying medieval alliterative literature and thought this style would be good for a period piece such as this. Hopefully it will get better with practice. Please let me know if I should continue. Enjoy!))
The late King Darius had a fancy for the decadent, and so Alexander desired the gilded and glamorous as well. Purple plumed peacocks strolled in and out of rooms while giant gem-encrusted tortoises glimmered in light, slowly mingling among the guests. Marble fountains spouted clear, cool water in every chamber of the palace with clusters of curious and colorful flowers encompassing them, constructing indoor oases wherever one wished to walked.
The wonders of the wedding were so appealing that it had continued late into the night, even after Hephaestion's energy waned. He had made merry with the other gracious guests, feasting upon the multitudes of meat and mead until he could no longer feign mirth for the new couple. He stumbled displaced and desolate through the fair folk, head throbbing in tempo with the music.
Once in his quarters, Hephaestion quietly closed the door and cut out the noise from the celebration below. He longed for ever-lasting sleep to mend his wounded heart, but he knew that the much pined for peace would not come that night. He shrugged off his rich Persian robe and let it fall heavily in a heap to the floor.
"What a masterpiece thou art," spoke a soft voice, words sharp and steady as though the common tongue was a late-learned language. The speaker stood from the general's bed, a violet robe smooth and silken covering her otherwise naked body. Slowly she walked towards Hephaestion, the train of her garment dragging across the ground, a golden wine cup in hand.
The surprised Hephaestion said nothing to her, only stood stoic and silent as a general would while she advanced upon him. The man was beautiful, thought she, broad and regal, more a king than a soldier. A prince without peer among all the other paltry men of the palace. How his hazel hair framed his face like a heavenly halo! How his lips longed to be loved! His body was tight and taught, the scarred flesh telling silent stories of his heroics. His eyes, bright blue and bewitching, bore down on the woman as she walked.
"Wine," offered she, holding up the glittering goblet to the general. Her nails were glazed with black and glossed with lacquer. Her fingers richly covered in costly rings and colored jewels. Darius truly loved the decadent, Hephaestion mused.
"I fear I have indulged too much already," quoth the man, incredulous of his visitor's intentions. So she rested the rejected glass at her lips, slowly drinking the sweet, sanguine wine.
Spoke Hephaestion, "Why art thou in my quarters?"
"I had longed for thy tender look all night," quoth the woman. "I danced for thee, but no notice was taken."
"I have eyes only for another," the man lied. Noticed her he did, and watched as well as he worked to ignore Alexander and his blushing bride. He recalled how her body moved without rest, how her hips swayed to rouse every spectator. Her ebony eyes looking through long lashes at him even as she danced with other men.
Fairest is she of face and figure, quoth a Persian patron beside Hephaestion earlier that eve. Indeed, a creature of rare charms and enchantment. It is of no wonder why the late Darius wished of her to keep him warm.
"Eyes only for the king," said the woman knowingly, raising him from his reverie. "The reason for thy solemnity on this most spirited night."
A bitter bite that reopened the wound. How he longed to forget the days past and all that came with it. "Leave," Hephaestion commanded and turned from her. "Leave, let me rest."
"It seems as though I have struck a most resonating chord," spoke the woman. With a tilt of her head she listened for a trifle. In the silence of the room, music from the ceaseless wedding could be faintly heard. "The sound of it still rings in my ears."
Half-drunk and tired, Hephaestion was in no mood for trysts nor tirades. "Have thou comest here to taunt me?" he questioned.
"I come here for comfort," said she, seemingly hurt at his accusation. "Oh, Hephaestion! I had a mind to weep as I watched thee. Never before have I seen anything more beautiful." She braced the wine glass close to her breast as she spoke. "The splendor of sapphires, the strum of a harp, the juice of the sweetest fruit, nothing can compare. Paraded into the palace didst thou with thy men and I did not know whether I was seeing or hearing or tasting thee, thou overwhelmed me so."
Hephaestion eyed the endearing woman, doubting everything that he had the mind to declare to her. Her words were sweet but he was skeptical of their sooth. Was she not once Darius's lover, the ruler of all things gilded and gaudy and gleaming? What would she want with a simple soldier?
"The princess believed thee to be Alexander," continued the seductress, "but I knew thou wert more."
"He is thy king," spoke Hephaestion, shocked at her words.
"And thou art a god! And I but a wandering pilgrim while thou standst dazzling and divine before me. What else is expected than to worship thee?" She reached out, planning without pause to place a palm on his cheek, but he wrest her wrist before she could and spun her with ease. Placing his chest upon her back, he enveloped her throat with one of his hands while the other encased her body, ensnaring her arms underneath. The wine glass was lost in the fray and flowed at her feet.
Within her chest, her heart hammered. She admired his swiftness, his strength, how he provoked both panic and passion within her. Hephaestion leaned forward and buried his face in her hair. She smelled lusciously of lavender oil and hookah smoke. Her chest rose and fell roughly with each breath of wine and honey she respired.
"Doth thou loyally believe that his love matches thine?" she dare asked. The grip on her throat tightened and she tensed against him, but persisted. "He frolics and feasts with his fresh new bride. He will carry her to his bed this eve and thou art condemend to sulk without companion."
"And thou fancies to free me from my fate?" whispered he.
"Aye," she replied. "Do not deny thy disciple."
Hephaestion roughly released the woman and walked passed her, making his way to the bed in long strides and settled himself upon the plush pillows. His arms he threw over the back of the bolster and languidly he sat with legs parted. So commanding did he look that she wish to bear his every bidding.
"Dance for me now," he demanded. "Thou hast all of my attention."
