Title: "Leaders of Macedonia"
Author: BalianswordChapter: 9, "Chaeronea Peace Talks"
A/N: A special note to Queendel, thanks so much for being an avid reader and reviewer. Karone as well. You both really brighten my day. To everyone else, you rock too. I just thought you all should know that I appreciate you. Now, for the next chapter.
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The physician said nothing more, merely left in the same silence that he'd entered in. His wounds were not as bad as others would make it out to be later. The cut on his cheek burned, but it would not scar, since it was not as deep as rumor going on around the camp was. As the physician left Hephaestion entered though, now bandaged as well. His wounds were worse, his shoulder from the first battle, and now the cut across his stomach. Together they were far more substantial than the scrapes across Alexander's cheek, arm, and legs.
"Cassander has convinced half of the foot soldiers that your cheek is actually in two pieces," Hephaestion told him with a laugh as he entered. "Also, your left arm was almost detached."
"Did he," Alexander said, smiling slightly. "And they all believe him?"
"They do," he nodded. He then glanced around the room. He quickly found a piece of parchment, a pen, and a copy of the Iliad to write upon. Sitting down, he crossed his legs, and then glanced over at Alexander. "Should I address you as Alexander, Prince of Macedonia or as Prince Alexander of Macedonia?"
"What are you talking about?"
"You have to provide the leader, king I suppose, of the Thebans. It will declare that you have defeated them, which he must acknowledge. Such a letter would then go on, and you would ask for terms as the conquered about halfway through. After this, you would sign your name, then send it. Apparently you don't pay attention to your lessons."
Alexander laughed for a moment. He then thought. Truth be told he was unsure of what he wanted to set his terms as. He'd figured his father would give him some sort of regards of what his demands would be. As he thought he wondered what Hephaestion would ask for. He glanced over. Hephaestion had already begun writing, addressing him as the decided Prince Alexander of Macedonia. Already he was writing the bit about conquering the Thebans.
"We should talk," Alexander spit out as he thought.
"About what," Hephaestion asked. He glanced up at him, hair falling over a cheek, wondering what was wrong. Alexander was clearly thinking though. He often got a far off look in his eyes when he was thinking. Hephaestion let him go on, careful not to interrupt him, knowing that eventually he would end up telling him everything he was thinking.
"Instead of writing," Alexander said as he took the parchment from Hephaestion. "Right. Instead of writing, we should sit down. I want to face their king. Otherwise we won't be able to see how he reacts."
"You want to meet with him?"
"Is that wrong?"
"No," Hephaestion said, smiling even though he tried not to. Alexander continued to look at him though. Hephaestion tried not to take not of it. He leaned over and tossed the quill back onto the top of the writing stand. When he glanced over, Alexander still had not taken his eyes away from him. "What is it?"
"I'm not sure," Alexander said as he came closer. He reached down to Hephaestion who was sitting and put a hand on his cheek. Softly he pressed a kiss to his forehead. "You just have no idea how enticing you look when you are smiling."
"I only look enticing because you've been in a battle for the last day."
"Everyday is a battle with you," the prince whispered as he leaned down and kissed Hephaestion, who tilted his head up. He kissed him deeply, holding him too him, never wanting to part from him. Adrenaline from the battle, and now from this, rushed through his veins. It was Hephaestion that pulled away slightly though. Now was not the time. Especially now, for with Cassander's rumors, half the army could walk in any moment.
"I know," Alexander whispered though when Hephaestion's lips parted, as he wanted to explain is actions. He simply gave him a knowing look and then sat down next to him. "I would like to speak to the Theban leader though. Even though we've won them, they have an incredible force, and should hear such."
"I will write something if you'd like, asking to hold a meeting; peace talks. What do you wish to say to him other than his army was gallant?"
"Think of it," Alexander said rather dreamily as he glanced over at Hephaestion. "You are right, the Thebans do not have to be our enemy. They are strong, wise, and we should not cast that aside from them. Macedonia does not need enemies, yet after wars, those we've won remain hating us. Perhaps my father has never put out such an effort to be peaceful with those he's taken."
"No," Hephaestion agreed. "No kings of Macedonia have ever made such an effort. That has been the way of things. You take what you want, as all leaders would do, and then once you have it the cause is lost. The next country is awaiting the assault. So instead of stay stationed somewhere and settling things, all those before you move on, leaving unrest in former lands that they've thrown into chaos."
"I will unite them," Alexander said as he moved, so that he bowed before Hephaestion, putting his hands on his knees. He had that look in his eye, the look that could only make Hephaestion smile. If he said it, then Alexander would do it. That was how it would always be with him and had been since they were children.
"I mean it Hephaestion," he continued. "I will go to the leader of the Thebans and not only will I compliment his efforts and his men, but I will ask them to join us. Why be rivals, such great forces, when we could be allies? I do not wish to be like my father, keeping victories and enemies all the same. The Thebans will join us, and should we be attacked, we will move together against the advancers."
"Your father will say that alliances are dangerous."
"I am not ruled by my father. Let him say what he must. Let him claim that the people of Macedonia will not want an alliance. I am open to his curses. But I know what the people of Macedonia want."
"Do you?"
"They want what you do," Alexander said as he ran a hand over Hephaestion's cheek before rising, and kissing his forehead. "They want peace, so that they do not have to live in fear."
"The world wants that," he agreed. Alexander smiled at this. Many times he'd spoken of wanting the world for his own. Yet only now was it beginning though these events to seem possible.
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He had olive colored skin and dark almond shaped eyes. His hair was short, kept at his shoulders, a dark smooth black. Everything about him would have appeared royal, down to the golden ring he wore on a finger. Yet he was not royal at all, despite his appearance. This could be assumed by his posture. He leaned back in his chair, resting a leg on the table, eating an apple carelessly. Even though he did this, his power could still be seen, and he could not be looked down upon.
Sitting, observing, he raised the cup in his hand. He did not drink, merely pretended to. While he raised the cup the last thing on his mind was the drink of some sweet water inside. Instead, he was looking around the tent. The military leader, the man on the other side of the table, had brought six men with him for this meeting. Surprisingly, out of the six, only two of the men appeared to be skilled in combat. Only one out of that two carried a weapon, a small dagger at his side. The remaining four were all very young, compared to the man at least, but were all near the same age as Alexander. The difference between the Theban boys and Alexander was that they were pages, or more likely slaves, and Alexander was a prince.
Alexander sat next to him, as relaxed as he always was. The Theban leader before him not at all threatened him. Instead, he seemed calmer than he had thought he would have been. Alexander wore a cream colored chiton, but nothing fancy that would indicate that he was royalty at all. He appeared to the Thebans average, dressed as all Macedonian's were, and nothing of great interest. Instead the leader of the Thebans, and those with him, looked at the one sitting to Alexander's right.
In contrast to the blond Macedonian, the other appeared more refined, and more princely. He had a sculpted face, with cerulean eyes that constantly were surveying the room, and his cheekbones made him look as if he were highborn. The other also had finer movements and was not so rough around the edges. He also wore a chiton, yet his was a purer white. In the eyes of the Thebans, this man must have been the prince.
"Larune," the Theban with the dagger said. He was silenced when the leader raised his hand though. The other took a step back and only then did Larune sit up, removing his leg from the table. He stared at the two Macedonians across the table from him.
"What is it that you want," he asked, speaking in a Greek he was sure they both would understand. The blue eyed Macedonian glanced over at the blond one. Larune assumed that the blond was some sort of interpreter. It would be like the Macedonians not to know anything but their own way. However, when the blond gave a slight nod, his view changed. It was the blue eyed one that wanted to make sure the other had understood. Now he was unsure which was the nobler of the two.
"You have strong forces," the blond said, as if he were the prince. Larune looked at him for a moment. If he were the prince, then Macedonia treated their princes differently from the Thebans.
"Then you are Alexander."
"I am," the blond agreed, he then introduced the one sitting next to him. "This is Hephaestion Amyntor. He is my advisor, as well as my closest friend."
"It is then my pleasure to meet you both."
"It is our pleasure to meet you," Alexander said. The other said nothing. It was clear that he was the observer of the two. Larune already liked him more than Alexander. It took a wise man to be able to sit and say nothing, but get across to another his greatest points. "I have asked to meet with you because I would like to congratulate you on the abilities of your men. You are a great leader to have taught them so well."
"Your men had the better though. So tell me, are you here for my gold of land? For I shall tell you now that you'll get neither."
"I ask for neither," the other calmly assured him. "I am here to ask for your allegiance."
"A treaty of peace?"
"Yes. I will vow that Macedonia shall not attack you again, as long as you agree the same for your forces. Together, we will be one against each other's enemies."
"Well," Larune laughed loudly, "do you need help fighting the Athenians? Is that it?"
"No, I would not ask you to fight in a battle that was going on before these talks. Only after would I ask for your support. But you should keep in mind that you would have the same. I would offer myself, my forces, should you need them to defend your land."
"From what I know, you are still only prince." He then stopped speaking. Alexander knew that he was going to say more though. The Theban waited for a moment, staring at him with distant eyes, face unwavering and showing no emotion. Then, slowly, he began to smile. "But you have the makings of a king. Already, I like you more than any Macedonian king I've known or heard of."
The Theban peace treaty was signed moments later.
