Title: Abandon
Author: Baliansword
Rating: M for sexual content and adult situations
Warnings: A/H
Chapter: 4 of unknown
Summary: Alexander betroths Hephaestion's half sister Myrihne to Cassander, despite Hephaestion's protests. Yet when Myrihne arrives in Babylon, Hephaestion questions whether distancing himself from Alexander was the right decision.
Tagline: Is blood thicker than water?
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Pushing away from him I stared at him, my eyes wide, and I shook my head slowly as sheer disbelief swept over me. Did he truly just ask me to kill my sister? She was the only reminder of my life back in Pella, the only one that may note whether or not I returned, and he wanted me to kill her? And for what? For a moment I wanted to ask but I was afraid that I would not want to know the answer. Were this another worry brought on by some deranged old woman I would consider strangling him with my own hands, and then after explaining it to the guards perhaps they would understand and let me go home to Pella. Or perhaps I would not leave. Achilles and Patroclus were not separated in death, and thus Alexander and I were unlikely to be separated. Maybe I could take my own life, save them the time of a trial and executioner expenses.
"Get out," I murmured instead of asking for his reasoning, or the substantial lack thereof. Alexander did not move though, but sat with the defiance of a king. Did I think him mad he had asked, and now I was about to give him the answer. Of course he was mad, this was all madness. I shook my head and again asked him to remove himself from my room but he did not move.
"You don't understand," he began, but I put up a hand to silence him. He stopped, respecting my wishes for the time being and I asked him once more to leave, this time on the verge of forcing him out. And as he went he glanced once more over his shoulder and said to me, "Soon, you will see."
I wondered for a moment if I had wasted these years of my life. Perhaps I had, but even in my attempt to foolishly hate Alexander and all that we had been through together, I could not hate him. In truth, I did not want to hate him either. I just wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him as I did when we were younger, when I could call him a stupid child and get away with it no matter whom was looking or where we were. I wanted to shake him and then pull him close; I wanted to hold him more than I had ever wanted to hold him in my life. What had happened to the man that I thought to be better than Achilles, to the man that I would have gladly defended myself against the entire Persian army? He was brilliant, wise beyond his years, but was that slowly slipping away into the madness I had always feared his parents would rive into his mind like a seed that when watered would sprout and grow, covering brilliance with vines of inadequacy and subtle confusion.
I do not know when I decided that I could no longer stand to think about Alexander or stand to be in my room. Pulling the door open I raised a hand to the first guard, and when he attempted to stop me I shoved him backward. He was young, younger than most guards, and he knew that his best bet was to remain on the floor, which he did as I stepped past him. The hallways were rather quiet for the time of day with only two servants, both young women, encountering me as they passed by with a tray and two pitchers, one filled with freshly picked flowers from the gardens. There was another guard that passed me, this one a bit older than the last, but he did not attempt to stop me even though I did not know him and he more than likely knew who I was, and that I was not to leave my rooms. Still, perhaps he saw in my eyes that I could no sooner go back to my rooms than I could stand to be bound in a bag and thrown into the sea.
"Hephaestion," a voice called out, causing me to slow my place, but I did not feel like stopping. Ptolemy flung an arm over my shoulders when he finally caught up to me and bit into the green apple he was carrying. Another servant went past us, and the new rumor would likely be that it was a poisoned apple brought by Olympias to poison Alexander's Companions. Simply because I did not listen to all of the palace gossip did not mean that I did not understand how it worked.
"Is this your attempt at a great escape," Ptolemy asked casually as I continued on my way. I did not entirely know where I intended to go, but I had done this numerous times before and would always wind up somewhere where I felt welcomed. Ptolemy went on, "Because if this is your attempt, you should have gone out into the gardens with your sheets tied together and scaled a wall. This appears suspicious. Do you know what Alexander will give one of these servants to tell him that you have left your rooms?"
"Then I am about to make a servant very happy," I answered, turning down another corridor, this one smaller than the last. Ptolemy released me though and continued at my side, going for another mouthful of apple.
"What has he done now?"
"Nothing that Alexander does seems to surprise me anymore," I told him, not even attempting to pretend that things between Alexander and myself were going to mend. "But," I added, "at the moment he would like for me to kill my own sister. I did not get into his reasons why, because I cannot even begin to want to understand it, but I did decide that I was not going to sit around and wait to die in that room."
"Ptolemy," someone shouted out, stopping him. He looked over his shoulder and then said a quick goodbye to me. I was not going to miss his company for this moment but knew that he was likely doing one of the tasks that should have been mine were I not on this odd restriction. It would probably keep him busy for the remainder of the night as well, so he would give me little company later in the day, and then I might miss his company. But I continued on my way, turning left and right aimlessly with no intention of ending up where I did, standing before Alexander's chambers. Sighing, I ran a hand over my face to check if I was sleeping, and then I entered the room.
Bagoas was not visible to me until I entered Alexander's bedroom. He stood in a corner pulling back the drapery and doing whatever else it was that he did. He was not alarmed by my presence but instead dipped his head and then picked up a vase and left the room before I had to tell him to do so. Shaking my head I went to his bureau and began pulling the drawers out, looking for something that I had left here long ago. I did not see the scroll at first, but as I pulled a worn copy of Homer's finest masterpiece from one of the drawers it slipped out of my hand and hit the floor. Cursing, I knelt and as I did saw the pages that had fallen out. Quietly I began to pick them up, hoping to know how to put them back in order, which would be quite simple considering how many times Alexander and I had read the book to one another. Yet as I looked at the pages I realized that they were not Homer's writings, but instead letters. In most circumstances I would not have read them without permission, but when I saw my name, I paused.
Alexander,
I know that you love Hephaestion with all of your heart, but you are a king now. You must do what is expected of you, not what a boy would do for the release of the lust in his loins. You fool. How many times have I told you that taking a wife…
I put this letter in the back, having read plenty just like it. Olympias had always meant well, but at times Alexander was on the verge of going mad when she begged of him to do things that he had never wanted to do. I scanned over the next two letters but as it turned out I had read them before. Again they were Olympias making requests of him, including the request to bring her here. Well, at least this had come to her, and her only son had wed. Perhaps there would be an heir, but I knew that Olympias, and the kingdom of Macedon, was beginning to lose faith in such a hope. It was, however, one of the last letters that caught my eye, dated very recent in comparison to the others.
Who knows why those we love betray us, Alexander. You knew your father, and I don't have to tell you that in his own way he loved you, even if his love was hatred against me. Philip wanted to leave you on a cliff for birds when you were born but as you grew he regretted thinking it, or so he said. Only when you were older, a threat to an old man, did he begin to wish ill upon you. So who knows why it is Myrihne would not only attempt to take my lover from me, but also, to go against her brother as I think she is. It might make no sense to you or I, but to her, it makes plenty of sense. I would kill her for you. I would have someone else here in Pella kill her, and none would ever know that the order came from you, the Great King. If that is what you want, it shall be done. But bringing her closer to Hephaestion will not protect him.
And I cannot tell you what to do to regain Hephaestion's trust when you lose it, for you will lose it if you bring his sister into Cassander's arms. Even I, a crone left in Pella, understand the hatred between your blue-eyed companion and Cassander, son of a snake. Hephaestion will not understand, or believe, what you will tell him. And he will not want Myrihne to be slain. You could attempt not to tell him of your plans, or the danger he might be in, but you've never kept a secret from him before, not even when you have tried. What to do, what to do?
Tell him nothing for now Alexander and pray that he does not meddle in your affairs, and maybe he will not sense what is to come. But if you love him Alexander, as I think you still do, do not push him away. There is plenty of time to be a husband to your wife, plenty of time to be a king, but there is not enough time for Hephaestion when time begins to slip away. If you love him, you would be wise to tell him, wise to show him. If he thinks that you have forgotten about him, if he feels neglected, he will be fragile like a flower. He has bloomed, and without the water of your love, he will begin to wither inward on himself, and the wind will crumble him and bring him down. He will not leave you for another, Alexander, he would never do that. However, he is not the type to wait. Either you have his love, or you do not.
I will wait to speak more, for there will be much to say when I reach your newest palace. My son, I am proud of you. You have the blood of Achilles in your veins, and you take what is rightfully yours. Your loving mother.
I stared at the letter for another moment, sensing that I was being watched, and then I replaced it in the book. I stood and then set the book on the top of the bureau and after this I turned to look at Alexander. He leaned against the wall and though I expected him to be angry, he did not appear so. Instead, he was almost calm in appearance, as if at peace for the moment.
"Myrihne was staying with my mother when she attempted to lure her new lover into her room one night," he explained, unmoving. "It did happen, and there were witnesses that are accountable. But I lied to you when I said that I brought Myrihne here because I thought my mother planned to kill her. She wouldn't do that. I brought her here because she told her bedmate that she wanted you dead. I know that you don't want to believe me, but she hired this same bedmate, lover to my mother, to kill you. She was going to send him as a courier, sending you a message, when Olympias heard of the plan and told me of it. That is why I brought her here, to see if these accusations against her were true. That is why I have asked you to remain in your rooms, where I know the guards can keep an eye on you."
"You're right," I whispered. "I don't believe you Alexander. In fact, I'm starting to worry about you," I admitted, feeling the burning stings of tears welling in my eyes.
"Don't," he insisted. He then approached me, closing the safe distance between us, and without another word he wrapped his arms around me. One hand on the small of my back, the other on my neck, he drew me close and suffocated me with his kiss. It was intoxicating, to say the least, but I still placed a hand on his chest and pushed him away. I didn't believe him, which was why I was angry. But I stared at him for a moment, and I knew that he really thought that Myrihne planned to kill me.
"Please trust me," Alexander said, wrapping his arms over his chest nervously. I was torn. He did look as if he needed to sleep, which led me to believe that he was half-way delirious. However, at the same time, he was earnest in his belief that I was in danger. Sighing, I shook my head slightly, and in my own nervousness I started chewing on my lower lip. Alexander took a step forward and placed his thumb on my lower lip, which had always been his attempt to stop this habit. I looked at him for a moment, enjoying the proximity, and then I wrapped my arms around him and drug him onto the bed. Before I knew it I stood leaning over the bed as he arched his back to forcefully kiss me.
I pawed at the tie of the ornate cape of a king that had trailed him, and when I finished I pulled it away and dropped it on the floor. Alexander placed his legs on either side of my own and wrapped his thighs around my buttocks, pulling me down. Hands on either side of his shoulders I kissed him, deeply, allowing my tongue to probe the cavern of his mouth as my hair draped over us, hiding us from the world. As I kissed him he reached up and expertly pushed the chiton away from my shoulders. As he pushed the rest of the chiton downward with his knee I gently bit his lower lip and wrapped one of my hands in his hair and tilted his head backward, giving me better access to his neck. I kissed his neck for a moment, feeling his warmth, and then sucked lightly on his skin while I pushed the rest of his wardrobe away from him. Exposing his bare chest my mouth found his shoulder, and then his chest.
I stepped back for a moment and pulled the rest of his clothing away, tearing his loincloth when I attempted to pull his trousers away at the same time. He didn't seem to care though. Instead, he wrapped his legs around me again and drew me down into another kiss. It wasn't about love, not at the moment. At the moment it was about the sex, nothing else. Alexander grabbed one of my wrists and knocked me off balance, giving him enough time to drag me onto the bed and pushing me back into the pillows. I stared up at him as he leaned over me, kissing my chest and then drawing his mouth over my nipple. I reached down to wrap my hand in his hair, my intent to pull him away, but he took my wrist with his free hand and pressed it back onto the bed, forcefully keeping my hand there. I went to reach for him with my other hand, but he forced it away as well, his lips trailing down my chest, finding my navel. He slid hit tongue over the flat of my stomach, then over my navel, driving me wild, and he knew it.
I felt his own erection against my thigh and let my eyes roll back in my head for a moment. I gasped as his kisses found my pelvis, then the very top of my thigh. He released my wrists but kept his hands on my chest for a moment, his fingers rubbing up and down my taunt muscles. I knew what he was doing, he wanted to bring me to the very verge of blissful pressure and then hold off, but I wasn't going to stop him. Instead, I let his hands find my thighs and hold me down as he ran his tongue over my skin and then blew warm air over his trials, driving me mad to a point where I felt my entire body throbbing.
"Alexander," someone called from out in the hall. They knocked again when there was no response, but they would not enter without his permission. Only I would do such a thing.
"Not now," he rasped, lifting his head from my thigh for only a second to answer the knocker. There was no further knocking and I gasped as Alexander moved from my thigh to other areas. I would have arched my back slightly, but he pushed me down with his hands. With my own hands I grabbed his shoulders and attempted to pull him back to my chest. To my surprise he moved to my request and kissed my chest. He then met my lips and allowed me to crawl over him, yet as I did so he removed himself from the bed. I looked at him for a moment and watched as he walked to the table beside his bed, which held maps and other important documents. Alexander swept his arm over the table, moving all of the piled paperwork to the other end, and then raised his hand and motioned for me to come to him.
I might have hesitated had I not wanted him so badly. He truly was magnificent to look at, lovely, beautiful, everything that I could ever have desired. I came to him and placed my hands on his back, kissing his shoulder blades as he bent slightly over the table. A few moments later I was out of breath, as was Alexander. Moving out from beneath me he took my hand and led me to the bed, where he lay back and waited for me to join him. I let go of his hand though and picked up my chiton, pulling it back on quickly.
"I need some time," I told him, not knowing how else to put it. He did not question me as I feared he would, but instead he watched me as I left the room. When I entered the hallway I drew in a breath and ran my hand over my face. I did not know whether or not what had just happened would change anything between Alexander and myself, or if it was merely an encounter. Either way, I would remember it. I did love him, even now. I just didn't know what to do. Loving him would be to go against my sister, and to side with my sister (whom I kept trying to remind myself I did not know well at all) was to forsake my love for Alexander. Yes, I needed time.
When I reached my rooms I was not given the opportunity to think though. Instead, Myrhine sat in my sitting room, a warm cup of tea sitting before her. She smile briefly and then rose.
"Hephaestion," she greeted, smiling. "You are as I pictured, tall and handsome. I can see why Alexander keeps you close. No doubt an attractive man wants other attractive men near him."
"Was your trip reasonable," I asked, hating that I had nothing else to say to her.
"It was fine," she answered. "Olympias was kind to be so generous with me. I came with her the entire way, as if I was an adopted part of her own family. Well," she blushed, "I've heard that perhaps you are Alexander's family. Of course, if it is not true…"
"Did you get what I sent you," I asked then.
"The money," she asked, and she then nodded when she knew this was what I meant. "Yes I received it. Thank you. The jewelry too, it was always very pretty."
"Good."
"Are you happy to see me," she then asked, raising an eyebrow. "I would have thought that maybe you would have been happier to see me."
"I am very happy," I said. I couldn't understand why it felt as if I was lying to her.