Author: Rothalion

Title: Shadowboxing

Summery: Alexander reflecting on Hephaistion. Movie driven. First ATG fan fic. Movie based I suppose. An expansion of Cleitus punching Hephaistion at the banquet before the wedding. I love that scene. Not sure where it will go just yet, it's already growing far larger than planned.

Switching back to Alexander POV here, beginning to feel as though I shouldn't have tackled these voices just yet.

Rating: PG-17 for safety

Disclaimer: Don't own him. After all, besides Hephaistion who could?

Chapter Three-Alexander's guilt

Damn you, Bagoas! I thought as I awoke after the sun's rise. I'd mumbled at him to rouse me early when I'd staggered in last night. Well at least I thought that had. Last night was a shadowy memory for me, probably better left forgotten. I'd wanted to do something at first light and now I was late. Not only was I late but I had no idea what it was I had planned to do. Still, how can one deal with a slave who thinks? Yes, he is more than a mere slave but, rouse me early means just that. He's like an over protective nanny, the boy is. I wonder sometimes what bothers Hephaistion more about the lithe dancer, his coddling or any sexual appeal he might hold for me. My own mother only barely out does Bagoas' worrisome coddling. Scrubbing the sleep from my wine bleary eyes I hollered for him. Of course, once I saw the look of worry on his face, I eased off and instead, shocked myself by hungrily dragging him into bed; my judgment dulled by morning after drunkenness. I needed something. I needed to feel but without commitment. Just feel my rage and powerlessness go away. To be in control of even the basest of things. I was still half drunk and wanton as a bull at stud and… and I needed some sign. A sign of just what I wasn't sure but the lingering effect of last night's wine and the thought of the coming wedding drove me to foolishness. So it came to be that with only a niggling thought as to my errand for that morning, I turned my back on the only man I'd ever loved and bedded a eunuch who'd been bedded by Darius.

It was about two hours later as I sat in a soothing hot bath, scrubbing and scratching with gnawed off fingernails the guilt-ridden scent of the eunuch's perfume from my skin, that the errand came to mind again, Hephaiston. Gods be damned! Hephaistion! The image of Cleitus' punch jolted through my drunken memory, followed by the hideous nightmare I'd had. Together they drove through my drunken dullness like Ptolemy's phalanx through a gap in the Persian army. I jumped from the bath sending the carefully heated water sloshing to the floor and again yelled for Bagoas. He brought me my cloths and waving off the food he'd set out for me I rushed toward Hephaistion's room. I wanted to run but held back. The sight of the king charging through the halls would not set well for my image. Self recrimination filled my heart as once again my image, and duty dictated my decisions. I reached inside my robes and grasped our pendent as a rush of panic surged through my body. Something is horribly wrong. Raising the small stone to my lips, I kissed it and looking skyward as I hurried along, I uttered a prayer to the gods. Oh, if I should lose him…Despite my earlier concern I begin to run. I will not live out the day if I've lost him while I bedded Bagoas for the first time, While I gave into base passion.

So familiar are Phai and I that although we knock on one another's doors we never wait to be asked in. It is a given that we are there for each other. There is truly no his or mine but only ours. I will never forget the first time he came to my door and found it locked. Bagoas and I were 'involved'. We'd actually done no more than kiss and embrace but the situation was getting more intense with each passing day. Why I did it, I don't know. I was lonely. Phai had been away for months; sent away, by me, on a difficult campaign. Upon his return he was distant and solitary, claiming exhaustion. Some gray shadow seemed to hang over his head and he kept himself apart from me. Something he'd never done before. Bagoas, well, conversely he was like a stone stuck in a horse's hoof nagging the beast with every step. He was 'there'. He was not only 'there' but also more than willing to replace Hephaistion in my bed. At the sound of the latch being jiggled, I'd panicked and pushed the stricken eunuch from the bed, sending him away, threw on a robe and foolishly rushed to open the door. I will not, even if the god's grant me immortality, forget the look of complete grief and hurt on my beloved friend's face as he looked first at me and then past me. That look will eat at my soul as Prometheus' eagle ate at his liver. The sound of rustling sheets caught my ear and I closed my eyes briefly as I turned toward the bed. Bagoas, realizing he'd left behind his tunic, tangled in the sheets, had tried to dash out and retrieve it. Hephaistion's punch sent me to the floor with the same conviction that Cleitus' had dropped him with last night.

So now, I'm here before his door. My gut is twisted with fear and concern. Has my infidelity brought some god's wrath upon me? I raise a trembling fist, knock, turn the latch and enter. The room is empty. No servants, no Hephaistion, no one. His Travel chest has been ruffled through and the lid was uncharacteristically left open. A half-full cup of wine sits on his small table and the bed has been turned down. His washbasin is red with blood and soiled rags lie on the floor beneath it. I cross the room and study the rack where his cloaks were hung. His favorite cloak, his 'walking cloak' as he refers to it is missing. The thing is twice as large as it needs to be and as old as these cursed mountains themselves but he loves to huddle in its familiar embrace and walk. Together we'd spent many hours wrapped in that old rag. Hephaistion, though says that is smells of me. So he loves to be buried in its comforting folds. My heart sinks again when I realize that all his weapons are still here, even his dagger. Cursing any gods that will hear me, I leave the small room and run to the stable. His horse is still there. Spinning around wildly in search of a sign of Phai I see Cleitus talking to a groom. Rushing over I grab his arm and spin him around. I have to look up at him and the sun is in my eyes, and I am in his towering shadow. In a rush of words I ask him about Hephaistion, he tells me he's not seen him since last night and follows with an apology. I scream at him to find him, call out a squad and go find him. My rationality is wavering. This is Hephaistion who is missing. He is my other half, my heart, my soul. I try to remain calm but every warning sign in my being tells me that he is in desperate need of help. I can not curb my threats of death and mayhem if my lover is not returned to me. Lover. That's insane I say to myself. We love, yes, but purely, no?

Hephaistion has vanished. It's been hours now and no sign of the man has been found. Finally, in despair, I call for my horse and with Ptolemy and six others we also head out. I know I have to get to him before dark. I can feel him but he's getting weaker.

Hephaiston tells of his trouble

Morning. God, I am so weak. The tremors that rattle my battered body drain any energy that I might have left. No one is coming, and I am but a shadow of a man. A shadow; gods I hope that as a shadow I can frighten away the myriad lot of creatures that try to gnaw on my raw flesh. Alexander should be searching by now the sun has been climbing for some time. Pity though I can't seem to feel its warmth. I mumble quiet prayers and focus on my Alexander. My friend, my soul, my king, my…my "I won't leave you Alexander!" chattering teeth bite into an already brutalized lip. I'm so tired. Alexander. I bring the pendant painfully to my lips and kiss it holding it there a token of love. Shortly after it seems I hear hoof beats. Feel them through the earth really. They come closer and for a moment, I am relieved. Then a voice rings out. If nothing else as soldiers, we learn to know the sound of our commander's voice through the confusion of battle. We learn to pick it out from the screams and shouts and orders given by other commanders. Only my ears are left to me now. A while ago, my eyes sealed shut with blood and dust, swelling and flies. Yes, but my ears…the voice carried on the breeze is Cleitus'. Fearing for my life and hoping, drunk, as they'd been, that they had little idea as to where they'd thrown me last night I pitched myself back down the embankment to hide from them. Alexander don't forsake me.

Alexander arrives-His guilt is realized

I heard the scout holler for me to come back. My heart leapt at the thought that he'd found something. Hold on Phai, hold on I repeated over and over in my head. You know that I'd never forsake you love, my friend, hold on. The man showed where something had lain beside the path. There was a good deal of blood, and claw like marks as though a hand had grasped the dirt. We peered down the slope and my heart sank. If Hephaistion was down there…no I will not allow myself to think it. I hollered out his name. After a moment, I heard it, weak and as quiet as a snake slipping across the floor.

"Xander."

I dove headlong down the hill and stopped when I saw his brutally beaten form huddled up in the thin weeds. His eyes were gone, completely swollen shut and more purple than the royalist robe. He was scraped, scratched, and bruised over his entire body. Blood, there was so much blood. Too much really. I flew to him and quickly searched his body for knife wounds there were none. I pulled him to my chest and wept into his filthy hair. He kept repeating over and over that he loved me. I said the same and tried in vain to push his blood-matted hair from his face. I saw it then the trail of crimson running like a road map from his clawed and bruised buttocks, tellingly down his long strong legs. I saw the vicious claw marks on his hips and the bite marks on his shoulder blades. I groaned in despair. Ahh god why have you stolen that from him? Why? Not the only part of him that not even I had shared. Not that, not that. We'd planned some day to share that part of him but the thought of causing him pain always halts my effort. So it remained like a treasure, my secret treasure, his final gift to me. Who, I asked him who? His response was beyond belief. Cleitus. Why, I asked him again his response was unbelievable, through swollen lips he whispered.

"I too am Alexander. He wanted to punish you for marrying, this way he gets us both."

I swore to kill him, but he shook his head no, this was his fight, his honor he would deal with it. We bundled him up and headed back.