Chapter 2!

If it seems like I'm writing in circles, I'm really not; I'm simply expressing the very real, and often confusing, feelings that Alexios is dealing with which does tend to loop over and over again in a person's mind when they're trying to discern how they feel. I did goof up earlier by accidentally copying and pasting the whole fic into the middle. Oooops.

philia: brotherly love
eros: romantic love

Eros is the Greek God of Love. Son of Aphrodite.

This chapter is foreshadowing another series I plan to do with Lykaon and Alexios' further adventures together as a family entitled Tales Of A Misthios.
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October 16
3:30 P.M.

Alexios rode through the woods on the hills six miles outside of the Chora, Phobos breathing hard as his hooves clattered over the rocky outcrop. He had been riding since early this morning and he was anxious to get to the Chora of Delphi before nightfall but that seemed unlikely as he could see the stars beginning to poke through the twilight colored sky. He sighed as he spurred the tired horse on with his leather-booted heels.

Phobos snorted, warm air hissing through his nostrils as he shied to the left, lifting his legs and pawing the air with his hooves. Alexios gently pulled on the reins, making soothing noises to the tired animal who snorted and shook his head, pawing the ground.

"Easy boy, easy." The mercenary patted the side of the horse's neck tenderly and he calmed down long enough for him to get him back under some kind of control, rubbing the side of his neck gently before he sat up on the animal's bare back.

Alexios looked over the horizon, his himation wrapped tightly around him, heart starting to hammer in his chest. He is close.. so close and yet so far away. Phobos snorted once again, shaking his mane from side to side but nonetheless stood still, leaning down to munch at some wild growing grass that swayed tantalizingly close to him.

Alexios smiled and then reached into the leather pouch that he wore at his waist, pulling out some cheese, bread and a handful of olives. He popped an olive into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully as he scanned the horizon around him, eating the rest in quick succession, his hazel eyes darting quickly about the rocky landscape.

He was a mercenary and a mercenary didn't let their guard down even for a moment since that one moment could be their last. He was always on alert... except when he was with Lykaon and, much to his surprise, he longed to be near him. It seemed damnably unfair that he was so far away and he couldn't help but wonder where that interesting thought had come from.

Perhaps the Healer means more to me than I think... He broke off a piece of cheese and bread and ate it, reaching for the flask on his hip and taking a long draught of wine before returning it to its place on his leather belt. There seems to be no other explanation for it, Gods know I've tried. Barnabas assures me that it isn't the machinations of an evil spirit but that I am in love.

He had been noticing the subtle changes come over him the past few months: more often than not, Lykaon was on his mind from the time he woke up in the morning until he went to sleep at night; he even invaded his dreams and they reveled pleasantly together in them. It was curious, truth be told, but he shrugged it off at the time as being of no consequence.

As the weeks and months rolled by, those same feelings kept returning which had brought to his attention another curious thing: he'd had numerous offers from both men and women for sexual dalliances but he had politely refused them all, shaking his head in wonderment at this change in himself as he noted their puzzled, and disappointed, looks as he walked away.

He was a Spartan-former, he mentally added-and knew that Lykaon had no problem with him seeking out comfort in someone's else's bed when they were apart but, as of late, he found himself not wanting to, feeling like he was being unfaithful to the Healer by being another person's bed partner.

It was an odd thing, to be sure, and even Alkibadias had commented on it in their last meeting some six months earlier when he had traveled to Athens to consult with Perikles over a military matter he had asked his help with.

"You're such a bore, Alexios," he had sniffed with petulant disdain, "all work and no play. It is a great pity because you were once so much fun. I must confess that it surprises me that you wish to take on the strangling yoke of fidelity." The Athenian had shuddered and then fluttered his eyes prettily at him. "Are you sure that I can't tempt you?" He'd run slim fingers over his arm, a sultry come-hither look in his eyes. "My bed has been awfully lonely lately and political intrigue really isn't all that warm on a cold Autumn evening... Wouldn't you.. possibly reconsider, Lexie?" He leaned closer to him, his breath tickling the skin on Alexios' cheek. "Hmmmm?"

Alexios smiled as he remembered the conversation, popping in the last of his bread and cheese into his mouth, taking another large swallow from his wine flask. He'd politely refused his entreaties, stepping back and reaching over, gently removing his hand from his arm, much to the Athenian's obvious dismay and irritation if the childish pout on his lips was any indication.

"Thank you for the kind offer but I think I'll pass, Alkibadias," he'd said as he turned away, "I have someone waiting for me in the Chora and I am most anxious to set sail right away to go back to him." He bowed slightly before pivoting and walking toward the door and leaving the establishment, the silver-haired Athenian sighing and cursing him in equal parts behind him. He hadn't seen him again though his travels often took him in and around Athens. He had heard, from Barnabas, in the six months since he'd left that Alkibadias had been keeping himself busy with numerous affairs, both political and sexual.

Zeus help whoever gets in that man's way... He may enjoy sex with many different partners, but he also enjoys a good political rivalry and is bound to stir something up merely for the amusement factor. He took a deep breath and looked up at the blue sky while Phobos continued to munch on the tall grass. He's not like Lykaon: so gentle, so tender... with a voice like warm honey...

He shook his head hard before pulling Phobos' reins back taut, hauling the stallion's head up from his meal. The animal turned his head slightly, giving him such a baleful look at his interference in his supper that he couldn't help but laugh.

"Don't worry, old friend," he murmured softly, patting the side of the stallion's neck once again before pulling the reins to the left, spurring him on lightly with his heels, "there will be a good meal waiting for you once we arrive at Lykaon's, I promise." He looked out over the horizon once again, going over the time and distance left to travel before they arrived in the Chora. "We'll be there soon."

The stallion once again turned his head to look at him, his ear twitching. Alexios knew his partner well enough to know that Phobos didn't seem convinced but, refreshed by his snack and the short rest, started off again at a brisk trot that turned into a full gallop as soon as they got a mile down the dusty dirt road.

Once they were in full flight, Alexios' mind wandered once again to the question of just how odd he'd been feeling lately on the topic of Lykaon. He found it amusing that he, a tried and true mercenary, had so much interest in the gentle Physician and wondered whether that was what was causing him so much unrest of late. It was like Lykaon was permanently fixed in his mind and no matter how hard he tried to dislodge him, he didn't budge.

How strange that this should be the case. Alexios bent down low in the saddle as they raced through the forest, dodging low hanging branches. Why is this and why is he always on my mind?

He also found that his heart was yearning for him and it was such an odd, disturbing feeling that came over him that he decided that, once they docked in one port of call after they had finished dealing with a cache of pirates off of the coast, that he would race to the nearest temple of Apollo and consult with a priestess there over the possibility that he was cursed by an evil spirit.

Before he had an opportunity to do so, he chanced to run into Barnabas who, noticing the strange way that he had been acting, had inquired if there was something amiss. Alexios, happy to at last unburden himself, told him everything that had been on his mind although it took a few days for him to completely open up to Barnabas over a few private conversations.

The older man had waited patiently as the mercenary unburdened his heart, listening in respectful silence before he laughed, slapping him on the shoulder.

When the startled mercenary demanded an explanation, thinking that Barnabas was making light of his feelings, he was assured that he wasn't making fun of him and he knew the reason why he was feeling so strangely: He was, he'd said, suffering from the sharp sweetness of Eros' arrows, not an evil spirit.

"You're in love, misthios," he'd stated baldly to Alexios' demand of an explanation for his strange pronouncement, his sky-blue eyes twinkling with mischief as he stood beside him on the deck of his ship, his gnarled hands locked behind his back. "The greatest gift that the Gods ever gave mankind, despite what others, or our Legends, might say." He arched an eyebrow at him, his voice teasing but sincere. "You are in love, misthios, have no fear. It isn't an evil spirit but the Divine Eros striking you with His arrows."

After Barnabas had finished speaking and once again reassuring him that it wasn't anything evil that was tormenting his thoughts but love, he'd thanked him and then turned to walk down the gangplank of the trireme, mulling over what the older man had told him.

That gave him food for thought and he'd taken much time to consider the possibility that he was in love with Lykaon as Barnabas was convinced was the case, as strange as it sounded to him. Before this, he had assumed that this was simply because he valued the Healer's company, both in bed and out, but he was astonished to find, over the course of time, that it seemed to go much more deeply than just merely two men scraping against each other.

It was almost as if they were connecting on a different plane than they had been previously: not merely skin deep, like Alkibadias, but soul deep. It was not feelings of philia that filled his mind and heart but feelings of eros. And, most curious of all, not only was he thinking of Lykaon but he actively desired him as well and no one else mattered to him.

The realization staggered him, shaking him to the very core of his being. What manner of the jest of the Gods is this?!

It was after that one, brilliant moment of clarity that the mercenary began to realize just exactly what his feelings really were for the Healer. Somehow, and he knew not how it had happened, he had fallen deeply in love with Lykaon. Which surely must truly be a joke of the Gods, especially the divine Aphrodite Herself. Who else could have enticed a mercenary to fall in love with a Physician, two people so diametrically opposed?

As hard as he might, he couldn't shake that feeling nor could he shake the fact that he wanted to get back to the Chora as soon as he possibly could which was quickly followed by a sharp stab of unease that perhaps Lykaon had tired of waiting for him and had taken another partner to himself.

He wouldn't do that, surely... would he? That thought depressed him and he shied away from it as quickly as he could, pushing it back into the furthest corner of his mind although that awful possibility.

He knew that Lykaon didn't have a problem with him seeking others for sexual company-as the Healer, himself, had pointed out, they were not promised to one another and Lykaon himself was also free to seek others for bed partners if he wished-but this seemed to ring hollow in his ears, like it was an excuse from an unfaithful partner to justify their infidelity, if not to their wronged lover then to themselves. And that thought troubled him.

It seems so... wrong... even though I know it isn't. He closed his eyes for a moment before opening them again, his teeth gritted. What kind of spell have you cast on me, O glorious Aphrodite, that I should suffer this deep rooted pain?

It was shortly after this that he had begun to shun others' offers of lovemaking, politely refusing then leaving the room before any unpleasantness could erupt. It hadn't, thank the Gods, but he didn't want to take the chance that it might since one never knew who would take offence and who wouldn't. Even the once appealing Alkibadias, whom he knew would gladly welcome him into his bed whenever he wished-and the silver haired Athenian had said so on many different occasions-had lost his luster for him.

Much to his annoyance. Alexios couldn't help but smile at that as Phobos cleared a rock outcropping in one fluid leap. He always said that he enjoyed me more than any of his other lovers and I have no doubt that he spoke the truth, despite him being hip-deep in political machinations in Athens. He ducked under a low hanging branch as the horse raced around a corner. It surely must be the jest of Aphrodite, the Goddess of Love, but I can't deny that Lykaon means more to me than anyone I know or have known... and I want to be with him and no one else.

This was new to him; he wasn't really sure of where these feelings had come from but, more often than not, he found himself gazing dreamily out over the horizon in the direction of the Chora, wondering how the Physician was faring and if he missed him.

Lykaon...

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5 P.M.

As Phobos raced on through the night and Alexios clutched a glowing lantern in his free hand in order to help him guide his way through the dark night, his mind traveled back once again to his very confusing feelings and the desire as of late to put down roots. He'd had his share of adventures in the past, both on land and in the Andrestia, but he'd found himself, more than once, yearning to return once again to the Chora and back to Lykaon's side. He couldn't help his thoughts drifting, wondering off and on through the last couple of months if it was time that he settled down and left the sea-faring and mercenary life behind for good. After all, he wasn't getting any younger and he yearned for a hearth and home to call his own, perhaps even a child or two to raise.

Over time, it had ceased being a passing thought and one he realized was starting to harden into a firm, heartfelt desire. Once he would have refused to even entertain the thought, relegating it to the machinations of an evil spirit and leaving it at that; now, he desired it with his whole heart, yearning for both hearth and home with Lykaon.

That gave him food for thought and he'd taken much time to consider the possibility that he was in love with Lykaon. Before this, he had assumed that this was simply because he valued the physician's company, both in bed and out, but he was astonished to find, over the course of time, that it seemed to go much more deeply than just merely two men scraping against each other.

It was almost as if they were connecting on a different plane: not merely skin deep, like he had with Alkibadias, but soul deep. It was not feelings of philia that filled his mind and heart but feelings of eros. Not only was he thinking of Lykaon, but he actively desired him as well and no one else mattered to him.

The realization staggered him, shaking him to the very core of his being. What manner of the jest of the Gods is this?!

It was after that one brilliant, illuminating moment of clarity that the mercenary began to realize just exactly what his feelings really were for the Healer. Somehow, and he knew not how it had happened, he had fallen deeply in love with Lykaon.

Which surely must truly be a joke of the Gods, especially the divine Aphrodite Herself. Who else could have enticed a mercenary to fall in love with a Physician, two people so diametrically opposed?

As hard as he might, he couldn't shake that feeling nor could he shake the fact that he wanted to get back to the Chora as quickly as possible. He also couldn't help but feel a sharp jab of unease that perhaps Lykaon had tired of waiting for him and had taken another partner to himself. His heart cried out in pain at the thought.

Once again, he came back around to Lykoan and the very real desire he had to settle down with him in the Chora, and perhaps raise a child or two.

How Alkibadias would laugh if he knew what was in my heart! He greeted a passing soldier on the dirt road leading to the Chora, who lifted his spear in salute as he rode by. He would probably think that the Healer had cast some kind of spell over me and he isn't wrong in that regard. I don't know how but...I can't stop thinking of him and how much he means to me. Is this what being in love means? Is this what Barnabas meant when he said I was in love? He bent his head as a branch brushed the top of his head. It's such a curious feeling...

He had no idea how the Physician himself thought of the matter of home, hearth and eventual children but it was something that he resolved to talk to him about sometime during their visit for, this time, he intended to stay. No more would he wander and, if there came a time when he must put out to sea for some reason, he wanted Lykaon to accompany him.

Phobos seemed to fly over the road and it was with relief that he could see the lights in the Chora glimmering dimly in the Stygian blackness and his heart leaped for joy when they started to come into view, the corners of his mouth twitching with amusement. I guess it means I'm growing up.

He chuckled softly and then gave a shout as they pulled up outside of the Chora, holding Phobos to a walk as they entered the town.

I'm here, Lykaon. Add I can't wait to see you...