Author: Rothalion
Title: What Price Fury
Rating: PG for now.
Fandom: Stone's movie
Summery: Not For the first time in their relationship Hephaistion is a victim of Alexander's wrathful temper. Mitigating issues play a part weakening the faithful Generals defenses causing him to retaliate and havoc ensues before the two can reunite. I can't help but feel as though these two had there fair share of brawls. Egos aside…besides Hephaistion's got other things on his mind.
Genre: Anger and angst and reconciliation
Disclaimers:Mr. Stone for this one, he brought them to life so we can torment them! Not purely movie driven I tweaked it a bit. Maybe too much.
I
A Latent Fury Exposed
Alexander had heard enough. He was strung as tight a bow string after listening to his generals berate and bully him for half the morning about his decision to marry the dancing Princess Roxane. Only Hephaistion had remained silent. Too silent and too distant even for him. Alexander recalled the incredulous looks the group had given him when he told them his plans. He had know idea how Hephaistion had responded, king or not he did not have the courage to look into his life long companions face as he spoke. He knew that he should have spoken with Hephaistion in private, prepared him for the meeting, but he hadn't and now...Through out the turmoil filled meeting he'd cast a few quick glances at his close friend only to note that Hephaistion's blue eyes were focused solely on the wall in front of him. Alexander noted too that Hephaistion had not moved a muscle, he was frozen in place. He guzzled the remaining wine in his cup and spun when a loud voice broke the tense quiet.
"Alexander! Be reasonable!"
Cassander's screech drew his attention from Hephaistion's odd demeanor and his general's narrow minded remarks let the arrow of the irate king's wrath finally fly. The young man, fool that he was, caught the full brunt of it. Alexander had never liked Cassander. The man was always sneaking glances at Hephaistion and he reminded Alexander of one of his mother's snakes. Lunging forward he slammed the stunned man up against the wall by his throat and screamed, spit flying, in Cassander's shocked face. He felt a hand on his shoulder and as he released Cassander he spun round swinging a huge roundhouse at the intruder to his ire. He connected and the man staggered back.
"Alexander." Hephaistion said very softly through now bloodied lips. He was not angry with Alexander, he knew the punch was simply a reaction, but what occurred next shattered him.
"And you!" Alexander advanced on Hephaistion menacingly. "You my pretty whore. I suppose you," he shoved Hephaistion backwards hard with both hands. "are going to play out your role as the spurned lover! In an attempt to halt my will!" He shoved his old friend again. Knocking him back another few steps, his rage and frustration blinding him. "Spurned and kicked from the king's warm bed!" Another vicious shove. Only this time Hephaistion shoved him back and then back again. Alexander swung at him and connected with Hephaistion's right temple. The blow stunned him; he fought off a wave of nausea, and blinked away the sparks shooting around behind his eyes. " Spurned after a lifetime of faithful service, relegated to being just another of my pets. Will that be your petty little part in this Hephaistion? Will you try to change my mind out of childish needs and jealousies?" He pushed Hephaistion again. "Maybe I will allow you to sleep with Bagoas in his chambers! Keep you nearby and close at hand." Hephaistion pushed Alexander again and landed a left that dropped his king to his knees. "Spurned and cast away, is that the part you choose to play?" He screamed as he stood and swinging again hit Hephaistion, double fisted, in the gut. The stunned general dropped to his knees retching and looked up at his attacker with eyes that through his anger bled despair, confusion and utter sadness.
Hephaistion stood slowly and advanced three paces so that he stood chest to chest with his king. Alexander could smell the vomit on Hephaistion's breath. They'd fought before but Alexander had never so brutally flayed Hephaistion's spirit and never had they fought in the company of the others. Their battles usually ended in bed one fighting for control over the other, a mix of passion and fury. Disagreements more often then not fueled their desire, and punches played the part of foreplay. Today though Alexander had done the unthinkable, he had crossed over the line that divided Hephaistion from the others and allied himself with them. He had named him as nothing more than a simple poser, a whore fucking his way into the kings favor. He had no words to convey his pain and he knew that he had to still appear strong despite this seeming turn in Alexander's favor. A part of his mind screamed that Alexander was just enraged and had not meant the accusations, but it mattered not, the words had been spoken and even if by some act of the gods the two worked this out, the damage to Hephaistion's already rocky standing as Alexander's closest companions was destroyed. Reduced to nothing more than a mere selfish, sexual hold on his king a hold that Alexander 'allowed' him. That Alexander tolerated. A hold with no more honor, merit or meaning than that of Bagoas'.
In a movement so quick and subtle that for the briefest second no one in the room caught it Hephaistion reached out and grabbed the dagger secured at Alexander's waist. The room then came alive with added tension as swords were drawn, and men stepped forward. Hephaistion vaguely registered the wave of Alexander's hand as he halted their progress. Staring unwaveringly into Alexander's gray eyes he then removed his own dagger from his belt. The two weapons were identical, taken from Chaeronia, carried into the battle by two of the warrior lovers that made up the Sacred Band. Their ivory hilts carved with two naked warriors entwined around one another and together fighting against a lion. Alexander had taken them from the bodies of two of the famed warriors, one dead, speared through five times, but he still had his body wrapped protectively around that of his wounded companion. Alexander had slain the mortally wounded man at the Thebans request. His pleas that he be allowed to follow his lover into death tearing at Alexander's heart, reducing the idealistic young general to tears.
Still staring into Alexander's eyes Hephaistion tore down the front of his robe and bared his chest. The pin that held the garment closed, a symbol of Alexander's companions, fell with a metallic ring to the floor. He squinted his blue eyes a bit and sighed deeply, his actions bolstered by hurt and grief. Then taking both daggers in his right hand, one atop the other he dragged them slowly, without flinching across the bronzed skin of his chest, both blades biting deeply, his crimson blood running down in thick, laborious rivulets from the parallel slashes. Hephaistion dropped the weapons to the floor, and tore his pendant from his neck dropping it too on the floor, the leather thong ripping deeply into his flesh. He then smeared his right hand through the blood and spoke in a low controlled voice free of tremor.
"You, my Alexander, have sacrificed me today as you would a mere chicken. Revel my King, King Alexander in this glorious tribute to… yourself." He reached out and smeared his bloodied hand down Alexander's face from the man's forehead to his chin. Forcing some of the blood into Alexander's parted lips as he passed slowly almost sensuously over them. "This, my blood, is the flavor of your newest folly, and your basest act to date, and I do not mean your decision to marry. You are… Alexander, truly a great and magnanimous king. If this deceit, my Alexander, is what it means to be you, to be also Alexander, then let this act show you, 'my Alexander', my Achilles, that I have and Patroclus has cut you from our hearts."
Then with out a glance at the other men in the room, he turned and made to leave, pausing for a long moment at the door awaiting the cold feel of steel as swords were thrust into his back as punishment for his treason. It never came and disappointed, he walked back to his rooms.
Hephaistion barely held himself together long enough to make it back to his quarters. Between the news he'd received in his correspondences that morning and Alexander's decision to marry, topped off with his lovers horrible treatment of him just moments ago he was flying apart, being rent into pieces by the overload of tangled emotions flooding his mind.
Upon entering his quarters he sent Milos, his page, away and headed directly for the wine jar pouring himself a large unmixed cupful and drinking it down in three long guzzles. He refilled it and sat down on the bottom of his bed. The second cup was downed as quickly, followed by a third. After filling the fourth he sat toying with the cup's intricate engravings as he waited for the fire in his stomach to numb his mind. The cup depicted two young men on a hunt, and it drove home the despair and loneliness that he was feeling. He hurled the cup at the wall and then in a wanton frenzy of destruction he flew like a wounded bull about the room destroying all the contents. Furniture was upended and crushed, pottery smashed, linens shredded, pictures torn from the frames and the silk curtains yanked from the window. How long it took he had no clue. But as the wine finally slammed into his brain he found himself in front of a large bust of Alexander pounding his fists against the marble face completely oblivious to the damage or the pain the tantrum was inflicting. He stopped only after the bust had fallen from its pedestal, in his fury he'd not felt the bone in his left hand shatter and a bone in his right wrist snap. The white marble statue was covered in his blood and bits of skin and his knuckles were a mess of unrecognizable pulpy flesh.
He went to the door and called for the page. The boy, he knew, would not have left and true enough the confused lad was sitting just outside the door.
" Milos, pour me wine please."
The boy did as ordered, mixing the drink this time and after placing the cup in his lords shattered hands took up a place in a corner surveying the wreckage with huge fright filled eyes.
Hephaistion had always been quiet and reserved and this behavior frightened Milos. They read together and studied philosophy together. He helped Hephaistion with his reams of paperwork and watched studiously as the older man worked miracles when it came to keeping supplies flowing and projects moving ahead. He rarely asked that Milos perform any function for him that Hephaistion could do for himself. He was more of a pupil, a student, a son and young confidant than anything else. Milos had waited for three long years to be taken to bed by his gentle master but it had never occurred. The sixteen year old, a bit wisened for his age due to the company he kept, finally decided that there was only one person who would ever share Hephaistion's bed and that was the king. He'd often felt sorry for his gentle lord on the nights that he knew that Hephaistion knew that the eunuch was keeping Alexander company. Milos had cried for his kind master's loneliness on many occasions. He had no idea what had occurred to cause this outburst but he was certain that Hephaistion needed the doctor and that the kind man had been irrevocably wronged somehow.
Milos watched as Hephaistion paced about the rubble of his quarters. Finally, after his master sat down on the widow ledge, the boy went to him shyly with a cool wash cloth and a basin of water.
"Hephaistion, let me wash your face my lord, you are…are injured. Please, gentle Hephaistion?" He shivered when his master only stared straight ahead, his ice blue eyes heavy with wine and sadness for a long moment before blinking and looking into the boy's gentle face.
"You may take some time for yourself, Milos. Go, now have some fun. Go and see your Leonidas." He waved a battered hand toward the door. "I will send for you Milos. Do not worry yourself about me." The boy turned to go and stopped at the sound of his name. "Milos." He looked back at the distraught man on the sill. "Milos, always remember Milos, love your Leonidas well. Never…never cause his heart to shatter." The boy stood still and tears burst from his huge brown eyes. He knew then that it had been Alexander who had caused Hephaistion such heartbreak. He stepped quickly forward and threw his long arms around the stricken man and whispered in his ear that he loved him. Hephaistion was silent and simply nodded in agreement. Milos took his leave. He would seek out Leonidas but the two of them would not leave the hall outside of Hephaistion's door. After serving the young general for five years he knew Hephaistion's habits well. The man had no tolerance for his wine, and Milos, judging by the amount remaining in the jar, and reading the effect of the draught in Hephaistion's blurry eyes knew that the stricken man would soon fall asleep, then him and Leonidas would tend to his wounds.
Alexander fled the council chamber and hurried back to his rooms. The taste of Hephaistion's blood sickened him and no sooner had thrown himself through his door then he was heaving up the contents of his stomach. He knealt in the foyer of the large suite and retched until he had nothing left. He could feel the skin on his face tightening as the thick blood dried there. Stunned he dropped the two daggers and the pendant to the timber floor and gasped at the slice across his palm. In his grief he'd grasped the two weapons so tightly that they had cut deeply into his flesh. Alexander stood and paced the floor bound by indecision. He wanted to rush to Hephaistion, fix what he had broken, undo the horrible hurt. The sound of Cassander's and Parminion's cruel laughter at his apparent ousting of Hephaistion still rang in his ears. How could they hate him so completely. Their glee at this suprising turn of events between the two life long friends sickened the king and brought tears to his eyes. Finally after a time he snatched up the daggers and the pendant and ignoring his injury and his ghastly blood smeared appearance, made his way to Hephaistion's room.
When he arrived before Hephaistion's door he found a distraught Milos and Leonidas sitting on the floor beside it. Milos had been crying and Leonidas had an arm around his friend trying to comfort him. Both boys jumped to their feet at Alexander's arrival. He waved them off and stood listening to the resumed slamming and pounding issuing forth from Hephaistion's room, his brow pursed in worried concentration. Alexander looked at Milos his eyes asking the questions.
"My King, I do not know. There was nothing left to smash when I left him a short while ago. I wanted to wait until he slept so that I might sneak back in and tend his wounds, he drank much unmixed wine but still, somehow, he rages."
Alexander nodded and stood silently outside the door. He jumped back as an animalistic scream cut through the the hall, raising the hairs on his neck. It was followed by four more and then more smashing. Despite his manners Milos lunged at Alexander and grasped the king's bloody hand in his trembling ones.
"Please, Alexander, please…" He knew his king well, and to a degree certain formalities were dropped in private. Alexander was a frequent visitor to Hephaistion's chambers and Milos was a courier for his lord often being sent to Alexander's rooms on errands.
Seeing the terror and love in the boy's eyes drove Alexander forward. He pushed through the door and slammed it loudly shut behind him in an effort get the attention of the dervish flying about puching and kicking at anything still large enough to destroy. Hephaistion swung round at the sound and advanced on Alexander with a rush of epithets his voice slurred with blind fury and wine.
"Get out!" He screamed as he shouldered Alexander backwards toward the door. "You would dare come to me now! Get out! Get out! Get out!" He raised his fists to strike him but on first contact the pain halted him. Again he shouldered Alexander. "Leave me, Alexander!" He pushed again and Alexander was backed up against the door. "You no longer exit for me! You-are-dead!" He articulated his words by pounding against his friends chest with his broken fists. "Get-out!" The scream was beastial and Alexander flinched before its fury. He had never in all their years together witnessed his lover in such an uncontrollable state of fury. Hephaistion, reached up and grabbed, as best as his broken hands could, a handful of Alexander's thick blonde hair in each battered hand. He continued to scream incoherently as he pounded Alexander's head against the thick timber door. Their eyes never left one another and Alexander let himself be assaulted.
"What the hell is that!" Cleitus bellowed. The two had thought it wise to check on the injured young general.
Milos and Leonidas both spun at the loud voice. They bowed and stood at attention. Ptolemy and Cleitus stood before them staring not at them but at the door.
"Well, Milos, what is going on in there!" Ptolemy pressed again.
"Heph. Lord Hephaistion is, is, angry with the king, he has wrecked the room and himself, Lord Ptolemy. His hands, his hands are… Alexander is in there and now there is this awful pounding now on the door. They were near the door Lord, their voices were close, now this."
All four cringed as yet another inhuman scream was heard, followed by two more. The pounding on the door had ceased but the memory of the scream hung in the air.
"Alexander's in there?" Cleitus asked with a raised eyebrow and grabbing the frightened boy by the shoulder. He was sworn to protect the king and he knew well enough that if Hephaistion wanted to kill his charge he could and from the sounds of the battle raging behind the door this was no simple lovers spat. Yes, they might tease the pair on occasion about their tiffs but this was something bigger. Milos and Leondidas nodded in tandem. "I'm goin' in! Ptolemy?"
"Cleitus, it's between them." His voice was petulant and bothered.
"Not any more, what the devil's…" He stopped when another scream cut through the thick door follwed by more crashing sounds, and then complete quiet.
Cleitus pushed the door open and stepped cautiously into the room with Ptolemy behind him. They were stunned at degree of destruction spread out before them. Only the bed remained, although divested of its linens, intact.
Alexander was crouched in one corner where Hephaistion had thrown him like a rag doll, and Hephaistion was sprawled on his back across the bare bed seemingly unconscious. Cleitus nodded at Ptolemy indicating that he should go to Alexander, and he made his way hand on his dagger to where Hephaistion lay.
Cleitus looked down at the prostrate man and despite himself jumped when the eyes shot open and he sat quickly up. His hands were resting in his lap and Cleitus was shocked to see the state they were in. He let loose of his dagger, there was no possible way Hephaistion was going weild a weapon with those hands.
"I have been…waiting…for this. For you." He reached out and absently stroked the sword at Cleitus' side. "I am glad Cleit…Cleitus that it is…will be you." He swayed unsteadily, and went on slurring his words. "Promise me something, Cleitus, p…promise me that, that when you drive, drive your blade into my heart, my heart, that you are smiling Cleitus. I want to recall for all eternity, the joy that, that you will all take, take in my death." He rocked back and his eyes rolled up, Cleitus steadied him and turned to Alexander and Ptolemy.
Alexander was a wreck, crying and shaking, his hair a bloody mess from where his scalp had been torn against the door. He would be of no help in calming Hephaistion. Cleitus jumped again when Milos touched his arm.
"Milos you and Leonidas fetch cool water, and if it can be had ice. Also the king's physician. Not a word of what you've seen here today will leave your lips boy and tell Leo tha same. Not a word." The boy nodded and slipped from the room.
"Well Black…Black Cleitus, have you no stom…stomach for the job? As…as for me I am ready. My Alexander is dead, my father is dead, and I will follow gladly."
Cleitus turned his head at the strangled cry that escaped from his king's lips when he heard Hephaistion's words, then turned back to the drunk, shattered man sitting on the edge of the bed. He struggled with Hephaistion's comment. Amyntor dead? No, not Amyntor. Not knowing what else to do he unbuckled and removed his sword and unsheathed his dagger. He held the weapons up for Hephaistion to see. A peace offering of sorts, an attempt to ease the drunk man's mind to show that he was not there to exact punishment then turning he walked across the room and put them high on a now emptied shelf. Sighing he turned and faced the mess spread out before him. One distraught and wounded king, one insane, drunk and very injured companion and a battle scene for a bed chamber. He prayed to Zeus to give him strength and joined Ptolemy. Hephaistion had succumbed to the wine and his emotional outburst and passed out on the bed. It was going to be a long night. Damn these two! The old general thought. By all the gods if this was unconditional and god wrought love then Cleitus wanted none of it.
