_ * _
General Amyntor had been a practical man. He'd been devoted to Philip his entire life, long before he came to the throne. The missions of conquest that had resulted in the great Macedonian empire Alexander was currently at the head of had been successful mainly thanks to the old and experienced soldiers the King was surrounded by. Amyntor had been by Philip's side and dreamed with him of a whole new world – a vision they both had achieved almost completely before dying. It was now Alexander's undertaking to finish the job.
Half-lying in the giant bathtub, Hephaistion closed his eyes and let the hot water lull him, chasing his oddly unpleasant thoughts away. His father's memory had haunted him for a couple of days and wouldn't give him a break. What bothered him the most was the apparent lack of connection among the pictures coming to life in his brain. More often than not, Hephaistion was plagued with meaningless questions. Would his father be proud of him? Would Philip be proud of his son? What were they, Alexander and him, even doing, indulging in lazy schoolboy working when there was so much to be done for the kingdom, in memory of their parents? It felt like something he'd believed to be solely Alexander's responsibility had now turned out to be his burden and charge just as well. As an army officer, Amyntor had been the King's second-in-command; the least Hephaistion could do was use the influence he clearly had on the current monarch for the sake of the empire, so that Philip and Father's project was accomplished once and for all.
He reclined his head against the edge of the tub. Thinking of the influence he had on Alexander brought to the fore even less pleasurable images. Hephaistion'd pretended like nothing strange had happened between them, but the blonde's confession wasn't anywhere near forgotten. It was clear as daylight the King had really fallen for him, and embarrassingly so. His affection would often be displayed a little too publicly for Hephaistion's liking – or the Generals', for that matter. The looks the Athenian got from them were contrasting to say the least. Some, like Leonnatus and Perdiccas, despised him openly and considered him as a persona non grata. Others, like Ptolemy, were more discrete, but it was easily perceived they thought of him as an intruder. Cassander was better off ignored, since his were predatory looks, so lustful the King himself reprimanded him for his boldness. Finally, Cleitus mocked him relentlessly, either with his clever jokes or his extremely expressive eyes. Hephaistion had once made the mistake to acknowledge the mild fascination he felt towards the dark-haired General: Alexander had started bitching over the most insignificant matters, and taken it all on Cleitus, eventually reproaching him in front of all servants and soldiers. Not that the man's reputation had been affected: he was too well-known and respected for the years he'd spent at Philip's commands. But that episode had made all the more clear Hephaistion was the King's greatest weakness. Such knowledge could backfire in no time. The philosopher's presence was becoming a real danger; too bad the monarch wouldn't be brought back to his senses.
The long-haired man stretched his legs underwater and looked down at his wrinkled skin. Time to get out. But expecting him outside the bathroom was an unappealing perspective, and he took some more time to himself.
Deep inside of him, Hephaistion knew thoughts of his father had become so recurrent for a good reason. Amyntor had never been a man of letters, least of all a philosopher, and he'd always indulged in the pleasures of flesh as much as his profession and personal decorum would consent him. Surely he'd never understand his son's principles, his chastity, his overall detached attitude, his dislike for bonds and ties. The General had lost his wife few months after their son's birth, and taken several women to replace his spouse in the care of the house, as well as the bedroom. Hephaistion, who'd never been in a proper relation with someone aside from his father, had grown up with different ladies looking after him – but none stayed long enough for him to mourn over their absence once they were gone. Could it be this family volatility had played a part in making him so distant, so restrained?
After Alexander had said those words to him – it was always those words in his head, nothing explicit – Hephaistion had realized there was nobody in the world he'd ever loved out of choice, that is, actually putting some effort into keeping the feeling alight. It was always Mother and Father, and that didn't take much dedicating to. Love as he'd known it came automatically, with no risks nor uncertainty. The kind of love Alexander had depicted, though…
A knock on the door. Then, from outside: "Forgive me, Master Hephaistion. Our Majesty will be awaiting you in the stables as soon as you're through here."
So much for quiet and time on his own. This, Hephaistion thought bitterly, was the kind of love Alexander had depicted: a never-ending urge to be with the person you cared for. Granted, it was extremely annoying coming from the clingy and tempered monarch, but the philosopher could feel the purity of such affection, and sort of… what? envied the blonde for it? "I will meet up with Your Majesty right away, Nearchus." The Athenian sighed, then bent on his arms to exit the pool. "Thank you."
The messenger's words hit him only when he was already on his way. … what's with the damn stables, now?!
"Ah, beauty, you made it! Glad to see you always."
Good Gods. Alexander was practically beaming. "Mh. May I ask what did you interrupt my most agreeable bath for?"
The King brushed away devious images of a naked, covered-in-foam Hephaistion and kept grinning with pride. "Let me introduce you to a new friend of mine… one so loyal and loving that is close to replace you in my heart!"
How I wish he learnt how to behave in public already, considered the flushed Athenian, upon exchanging nervous looks with the guard escorting him. "It seems like my prayers have been heard." He muttered hatefully, but the words got struck in his throat right after. What the…?!
Before him was the most impressive horse Hephaistion had ever seen. How could he miss it from behind Alexander's back, was ahead of him. It was black, and hard-coated, and overall giant. Its paws were large and furry, its tail long and shiny. It clashed with the tanned, golden-haired king, whose hand kept petting the animal on the neck as in a trance. "My beauty, this is Bucephalus." Alexander joyfully explained, all the while grinning like mad. Then, turning to the horse: "And you, darling, meet my exquisite master Hephaistion."
The Athenian distinctly heard Nearchus stifle a chuckle. He blushed again. How come the word 'master' always sounded so disturbing coming from the blonde exhibitionist?! "It is quite a sight to behold, my king." He said in a cool voice, trying to sound as distant as possible to counterbalance the monarch's excessive familiarity. "I must say you have left me at a loss for words. I was not exactly expecting to be summoned in all haste because of a horse."
His sarcasm was completely lost on Alexander, who smiled in obvious excitement. "Yeah, he's truly a sight, ain't he? Just look at his fur. It's so dark you could see the stars shine there at night. And his sides…"
There was something more than slightly unnerving with the way the blonde was flaunting that stupid animal. Hephaistion snorted, somewhat irritated. "Of course. Shall I ask where on Earth did you find it?"
"It's a him." Alexander pointedly rectified. "And it doesn't matter how I got him. What matters is, we're together now."
This man knows no shame at all! The love-struck, sickened look on the blonde's face was making Hephaistion feel like throwing up. To think he probably looks at me just the same way… Gods, isn't this creepy. "As much as I do appreciate your acting skills on occasion, I'd rather skip the drama and get to the truth now, if you don't mind." He heard himself sneer in a harsh tone. "Where does this thing come from?"
The hand on Bucephalus's neck stilled, as the King wet his bottom lip nervously. "I told you, it doesn't matter." He mumbled, looking anywhere but back at Hephaistion. "Besides, why are you being so rude to poor, beautiful Bucephalus? He likes you!"
"Hardly." The philosopher grunted, staring at the horse – which was currently studying him like a puma would a hare – with little fondness. "Why are you being so secretive about its origin? Could it be that you stole it?!" He took a guess.
"I am King. No need to steal what I want for myself." Came the somewhat haughty reply. Then, Alexander performed his most spectacular pout and watched Hephaistion with puppy-dog eyes. "I just don't want to think about that, okay? Please, my beauty, don't make me. Please."
The Athenian wasn't sure whether to feel more embarrassed at the king's lack of dignity or baffled at his shyness. Either turned out to be unnecessary, though, as one moment later a sentry showed up at the stable door, making an announcement Hephaistion had not predicted. "Forgive my intermission, Your Majesty. King Darius's daughter, Princess Stateira, has finally come. Will you meet her now?"
The only word leaving the monarch's lips was: "Shit".
"…"
"Will you tell me what is going on already? Why is our old enemy's daughter here in Pella? I thought you didn't go for captives." Expect when it comes to me, that is.
"I don't. She came out of her own free will to have a chat with me, since our fathers were such good friends."
"… are you making fun of me?"
"Can't help it. You're asking dumb questions."
"Well, that's because you are not giving me a single answer!"
"And you think I owe you one, don't you? For that's how you treat anything and bloody anyone. Like we all owe you 'cause you're so much better."
"For crying out loud, Alexander! Whatever is wrong with you, you have no right to get back at me."
"… I know. 'm sorry, sweetheart. It's just been one hell of a bad day, and keeps getting worse."
"You're really not telling me what happened?"
"No need to. You'll see with your own eyes once we're there."
Alexander never spent a lot of time in the chamber of the throne. It reminded him too much of Philip, his feasts, his drinking, his ominous laughter. Being forced on the damn seat for the welcome ceremony made his mood go even darker.
"Your Highness Princess Stateira and her secretary." The guard at the door announced, letting in two peculiar figures.
The man was a well-built Persian clothed in a precious oriental attire, who walked towards the throne with big, confident steps. The woman was tall, proud, and moved as though she was floating, her slender hips twitching under the silk material of her night-blue robe. She looked pretty young, in spite of her conceited manners, and overall attractive. There was a swiftness to her motions that caught Alexander's attention.
Both guests bowed before the King. Stateira's eyes drifted briefly to Hephaistion, who was standing at the emperor's right, then darted back to Alexander. The secretary spoke first, still crouched and not daring look the King in the eyes. "Joy to you, Your Highness. Her Majesty Princess Stateira wishes to express how merry a circumstance this is for your encounter, and, of course, greet Your Highness heartily."
The blonde scrutinized said merry princess, who didn't look so merry after all. Her gaze was fixed on nothingness, hence making her hazel eyes seem dim and numb. A spiteful grimace twisted the King's face. "If she really wishes to express so many things," he grunted, "then Your Majesty should just do it, instead of letting someone else speak on her behalf. It is not like," Alexander added, his face contorted in bitterness, "formalities make a lot of sense between us, since we're to get married."
Hephaistion felt his jaw literally drop. Wha – how… why?! Was that it Alexander had kept from him? How come he was engaged with a woman he'd never met before – Darius's daughter, furthermore? And why had he not discussed such an important thing with Hephaistion, who was always promptly informed of all trivial matters concerning the King? The Athenian turned to stare at his friend intently. Alexander seemed pretty… well, unhappy. True, that much should have been obvious, considering how he'd reacted the first time wedding had been mentioned as a recommendable option. Yet, judging from his heated declarations, it became all the more difficult to believe he'd given his consent…
The philosopher was distracted by an insistent nudging in his right side. Cassander grinned at him with turbid malice darkening his eyes. "So you didn't know, huh? One could tell from your face. It fucking fell, mate! Must be hard to have your loving lapdog taken away by a woman, ne?"
Hephaistion glanced down at the General, and found himself shaking with aggravation. "He's not my loving anything. Therefore she cannot take him away from me." He struggled to emphasize, for his own spirit was split and uncharacteristically bewildered. Why is this even affecting me so much? Guess I just wish he'd have told me.
Cassander snorted in disbelief. "Don't bother deny it. I know our King's been paying visits to your chamber at night."
"I wouldn't bother with pointless assumptions, were I in your shoes." Hephaistion replied coolly, now more concerned with hearing the Princess's retort. As a matter of fact, the secretary had obediently retired, and the graceful Persian woman was left standing by herself in front of the Macedonian emperor. Oddly enough, she didn't seem uncomfortable in the slightest. Self-confidence must come with royalty.
"I… hope you… appreciated my… gift."
Alexander raised one eyebrow in surprise at the woman's tone. It was estimably steady, but the words came out slowly. At his left, Cleitus supplied: "She can't speak Greek swiftly yet. That's what the secretary was here for, you genius!" The King sent him a dirty look, then focused once more on the Princess. "I must say I fairly did. It's good horse, and very noble-looking, too. Like yourself."
The horse! Now Hephaistion got it. A wedding gift! Every piece fell back in place. Except Alexander's flattering words sounded very much out of place.
Stateira bowed out of thankfulness, then uttered one word after the other in that composed demeanour of hers. "May I… ask where I am… staying… until the wedding?"
The King had not seen fit to care for such things, and gestured absent-mindedly for Cleitus to answer. His eyes scanned the room briefly, then were drawn to the man standing at his right. My true right-hand man, indeed.
Something was wrong with Hephaistion, though. His pale eyes drifted from the Princess to the door, as if he was planning to make a run for it. Alexander frowned and tried to lock eyes with him, in vain.
After hearing Cleitus's elucidation, the Princess nodded and turned to address the emperor. "Can I… be showed to my… chamber, then? The… journey was… tiring, and I would love to… rest."
She'd better learn damn Greek soon, 'cause her stuttering is pissing me off."As you wish." Alexander conceded, making an effort not to look too pleased with the request. "I reckon everything as regards to the marriage ceremony will be dealt with by yoursecretary, so I'll see you then. You're dismissed." Cleitus elbowed the King for his rudeness, but Alexander made no move to acknowledge the reproach. He saw no reason to waste any more time with the woman he was bound to spend the rest of his life with, while they both were still free.
If Stateira got offended at being sent away like a servant, she didn't show it. The woman simply bowed, turned to join her secretary and left, escorted by two of the King's guards. She would be staying at the former queen Eurydice's quarters, secluded from the main residence. After the wedding her things would be moved to a chamber next to Alexander's, while her family and servants would take the far-off lodgings.
As soon as the door closed behind the Princess, Ptolemy rose from the seat he'd occupied during the meeting and made to speak, only to be admonished by the emperor. "Whatever you're going to say, don't. I'm not in the mood to hear you bitching right now. Meet me in a couple of hours to scold at your will." Alexander groaned tiredly. "I'm going to bed now, and don't you bother try to wake me, for I'll have drunk myself to sleep soundly. Have a nice afternoon, everyone." Thus he climbed off the throne and moved to exit.
Hephaistion watched as the blonde's cloak disappeared past the hallways, his heart beating a little faster than normal. Alexander had smiled at him upon leaving, that brief glance being enough to pacify him. The philosopher found himself smiling back, even though the King was already out.
General Ptolemy sneaked a quick look his way, eyes narrowing at the sight. Something's not quite right here, he thought, but remained silent.
Alexander held to his word and did not show up till dinnertime. Even then, he ate little and spoke less, seemingly worn out by the testing morning encounter. None of this prevented him from having his fair load of drinks, by the way.
Princess Stateira wasn't allowed to dine with the King and his men, so the meal went smoothly. That is, apart from the pointed looks Ptolemy kept casting at the monarch – who promptly ignored them. Hephaistion reckoned they were in the aftermath of the infamous rebuke, and didn't give it much thought.
What he did pay extra attention to was Alexander's change of attitude towards him. The blonde had barely acknowledged his presence at all, giving shallow replies to his questions and staring unfocusedly whenever Hephaistion tried to make eye contact. Which was surprisingly often, the Athenian realized. He was fairly sure his eyes had never sought for Alexander's with such insistence. Yet the more he squirmed to get the other's attention, the more unnoticed did his efforts pass.
He decided to bring up the matter when, after dinner, the King wished goodnight and retired. Hephaistion followed him, but arrived not, like he'd expected, to the bedrooms quarter. The Athenian recognized the place he'd been in the morning as Alexander entered the stables.
The blonde walked with heavy steps ahead of him. "Are you done sneaking around like a rat?" His voice suddenly broke the silence. "I know you've chased me all the way here."
Hephaistion started and revealed himself. The emperor faced him for a moment, an unreadable expression on his face, than turned his back on him again and stepped forth in pitch dark.
The philosopher dragged behind, looking around to inspect the gloomy place for possible dangers. "Shan't we light up a candle, or something?" He cautiously suggested, not particularly eager to be trapped in shadows with a moody, perverted king.
Alexander didn't hear him, or just didn't care. In fact, his pace quickened and his steps became more confident as darkness took over. A curtain shielding a narrow passage was ripped by the monarch's edginess, thus giving them way to a slightly better illuminated area. Hephaistion was instantly aware they've entered Bucephalus's stall.
Relax, the long-haired man willed himself to think. Horses do not eat people. It's ridiculous. And Alexander is not planning to get you killed here. Nor anywhere. Hopefully. Gods, what if horses have changed their eating habits?! "Alexander," he complained, in a somewhat imperious voice, "I can't see a thing. How about a…"
"What use would a candle be anyway?" The King cut him off. A weak neigh came from inside the wooden cubicle. The shape of Bucephalus's head could hardly be made out in the gloom. "He's so dark we still wouldn't see him. And it's him we're here to see." The blonde head finally turned. "At least, I am. What are you here for, again?"
Those cold words chilled Hephaistion's blood. For a split second. Then his anger took over, pretty much un-stoically. "What do you think I'm here for, you jerk! I wanted to know why have you been acting so weird towards me. Know if I'd done something to upset you."
"Upset me?" Alexander let out a soft, bitter chuckle. "No, my beloved; you didn't do a thing to upset me. It's just your nature, and it can't be helped. Nor am I asking you. Say, am I too demanding of you? I don't think so." He hushed, then went on in a lower tone. "Then again, maybe I am. After all, when this began I just wanted your respect. Now it's not enough. Nothing you could give me is. And when it all becomes too hard to bear, I start blaming it on you, while I'm the one to blame really. So silly of me."
Hephaistion noticed Alexander's hand petting the horse's neck, brushing the fur there. For some reason, the rubbing noise gave him the creeps. "You're not making sense." He murmured, his voice shaking against his will. Damn it. Damn it all. "Are you still drunk?"
A snort. Then, an eerie laughter. "Who knows? Wait – who cares?"
He's obviously smashed. Must handle him gently. The Athenian searched for the other's body in the dark, his hand finding a hip. He sneaked his arm around the waist, soothing. "I do. Say, are you mad at Ptolemy for scolding you?"
The brushing noise ceased abruptly. Alexander stiffened under Hephaistion's touch. "Ptolemy's a bastard. And one of my best friends all the same. Sad, ain't it?"
"Alexander…"
Suddenly, the King's hand took the philosopher's in his own and brought it to the lips. Alexander placed there countless shaky kisses, his breath coming out in short rags. "I love you, Hephaistion. I love you." He groaned, utterly broken. His voice no longer sounded his own. "Please, don't leave me. Please. I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Don't leave me. Don't…" His speaking faltered, as he took the other man in his arms with vigour.
Hephaistion went still as the blonde buried his face into his neck, shivering like mad. Alexander's skin was heated and flat, slightly more calloused than his own, but overall even. His cheeks were on fire, his breath hot and irregular. Plus, the way he held onto Hephaistion… it was with such a desperate force, and – Gods forbid him – care, it hurt. Hurt to feel him shaking, hurt to hear his words, hurt to be there and be unable to make it better. Wait. Who said I can't make it better? "I am not leaving you." The Athenian whispered, his arms sliding to return the embrace. "Why would I?"
It took the blonde some time to answer. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. About Darius's daughter." His head rose abruptly for him to face Hephaistion. "It wasn't me who chose her, you must know that. You must believe me. I would never…" The words died in his throat. He blinked rapidly to keep his eyes dry, then spun his head to look at Bucephalus. He was going to lose every ounce of self-control in his beloved's arms. Gods, Hephaistion's scent was inebriating, and his skin felt amazingly soft. Is there something un-perfect about him?
The philosopher loosened the hug, but stroked Alexander's arm to reassure him nonetheless. "It's alright. Like you said, you didn't owe me an explanation."
"But I wanted to tell you. I wanted to. I just feared, if I talked with you and it became evident you didn't mind me marrying, then I would be unable to stand it. 'Cause it would mean you really have no feelings whatsoever for me."
Once these words had left his mouth, the King put some distance between his body and the other's, at unease. A whinny caught his attention, and a smile spread on his cheeks as he turned to caress Bucephalus's back. Good, good mute animal. You can't give false hopes and make some poor guy in love shiver at the mere thought of your closeness. And most of all, you certainly can't give me a boner!
"I don't like this bloody horse. Guess you might take it as in, I'm jealous of what it represents. Jealous of the joy it will bring you."
Alexander started. He turned to look the Athenian in the eyes, his heart-beat increasing. What? What does this mean? He can't possibly be implying a woman will make me happy, let alone a woman I didn't choose! "Hephaistion." He spoke in a soft voice, his skin aching for more contact, more, more, more, please. Gods, I'm ruined for everyone else. "It's just a horse!"
It was funny, in a way. Pathetic, that much was sure. The philosopher let out a weak chuckle, then shrugged. In the dark, he couldn't see Alexander's expression, but he no longer heard the petting sound of his hand, so Bucephalus must have ceased to be at the centre of the King's attention. He couldn't help feeling an odd satisfaction at this.
The monarch saw Hephaistion smile that sweet, shy smile of his. It felt like a blinding light had suddenly burst into the dim stall. Ruined. Ruined for everybloodyone else. "Let's grant Bucephalus his rest. I'm planning to wear him out, from tomorrow on, so that he warrants his stay." He urged, then walked to exit the stables, Hephaistion right after him.
It hit him much later, when Alexander was already in bed, struggling to sober up and drown his troubles in sleep.
… what had Hephaistion meant by jealous?!
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Hello everyone! ^^ I'm having trouble updating this 'cause the network has screwed up and I've ben unable to surf the net unitl now - but as you see, I'm so not giving in!
Two A.N.s as regards to this chapter: Hephaistion's insight at the beginning was meant to clarify his position, besides giving him some time alone (he'll go crazy if he hangs around Alexander too much, you know). Secondarily, did you notice how much has his speaking changed? Well, that's not because I got tired of neat writing (even if it was turning out as a challenging task): I wanted to make the influence Alexander's having on Hephaistion evident by means of little details like this. There's going to be more as the plot goes on.
Thanks to classyblue, Troilus (how 'bout hope at the end of THIS chapter? =D), Cathleen, geolke, Nerdvi (*insert evil teaser chuckle here*), PrinzessinUmi1 and twitty (last but not least - you are one hell of a good reviewer, by the way) for their splendid reviews! :3
See you (hopefully) soon!