The Ivory Eros

by moon71

Hephaestion is dead and Alexander cannot live without him, but then he receives a tempting offer from a very strange source. Alexander X Hephaistion, rated for naughty bits and death in no particular order. COMPLETED!

4. Chapter 4

THE IVORY EROS - CHAPTER 4

SUMMARY: Hephaestion is adapting to his new "life" but one particular question bothers him - exactly what was he to Alexander before? Meanwhile Alexander is finding it harder and harder to manage without him…

AUTHOR'S NOTES: I've said it before and will probably keep saying it until the story is finished - THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU to all of you for your speedy, thoughtful and sensitive reviews, this is one of my favourite stories (if you can have favourites of things you wrote yourself!) and I'm so glad you're all enjoying it too. A particular thank you to CoralDawn, Queendel and Koalared for such in depth reviews, you've found hidden depths to this story I'd almost forgotten were there!

P.S. I'll try to finish this before Christmas, I wouldn't want anyone kept in suspense!

Hephaestion lay comfortably between sleep and waking, letting his mind drift. He enjoyed being able to do this now he was not afraid to let his mind wander and find it wandering into a blank void. He had filled it with new facts, faces, names and ideas which gave him plenty to think about.

It had been a week since Alexander had returned to his own room. Hephaestion had been more upset than he considered he had any right to be, but had said nothing to Alexander. Until he really understood the nature of this sweet, golden person's affection for him, it was best to say nothing. Already he had learned enough to know that not aspects of Alexander were as attractive as the ones he showed Hephaestion, but presumably he had known that before and accepted him as he was. Or perhaps he had not cared. Or, perhaps… Hephaestion had been far worse than Alexander at his most excessive.

Well, if that was so, he had paid for it now. Five months had passed since his illness, the details about which even Alexander remained vague, he had recovered very little of his strength. He could walk unassisted, but only for short distances. He grew tired very easily. And as for his memory…

In moments like this, when he let himself explore the damage, he caught small but brilliant flashes of memories he was sure he had not created simply from what he had recently been told. For a second he could feel a sword or a lance in his hand as natural to him as his own fingers, could imagine himself on horseback and knew exactly how to control his mount using the muscles of his hips, backside and thighs. He caught brief glimpses of two girls, one dark like him, one with chestnut curls, one gentle, one as sharp-clawed as a cat. A man who seemed like a big, dark giant – his father? Once, waking suddenly in the night, he had described to Alexander a dream of huge, grey, trumpeting monsters crashing through thick forest towards him. Alexander had been overjoyed by this nightmare. "You remember the elephants!" He had even awoken crying out in pain and clutching his arm, certain to find it soaked in blood. Alexander had told him of how he had been wounded there.

There were odd flickers about Alexander too. But Hephaestion was mistrustful of them. Having now been through all the correspondence he, his Pages and his secretaries could find, he had read plenty of letters from the King but they were universally dry, businesslike and very, very dull. Perhaps Alexander simply wasn't very good at writing letters. Or perhaps he found writing to Hephaestion a bore. Surely if Alexander had written anything more loving, even anything less impersonal Hephaestion would have kept the letters safe? There was nothing in all his papers to suggest Alexander thought of him as more than a good and loyal friend…

"You can go and get something to eat now…" the boyish voice of one of Alexander's pages drifted into Hephaestion's thoughts, but he lay still, for once not wanting company.

"I wonder how long he'll want to keep this up!" This was Admetus.

"Who's complaining? Its better than guard duty. I'm rather enjoying it actually. He doesn't even seem to mind if you fall asleep, so long as there's someone here when he wakes… Still, I wonder why the King suddenly decided to go back to his own room – I mean, if people are going to gossip, which they are, they'd have started the first time he stayed here! Which they did!"

"The King doesn't care about gossip! I think he just wanted to be alone with that Bagoas! Ugh! I don't know what he sees in him!"

"He's not that bad, you get used to him. And you have to admit he's very beautiful! And talented… they train them in it, you know! Sex, I mean. Think of it! I bet he knows a thing or two! Well, after all, King Darius didn't keep him around to do the accounts, did he?"

"Well I think he's vulgar. They all are, those barbarians! They dress in those horrible trouser things – it's not natural! It's a wonder they're not all impotent! And they curl their hair and paint their faces like hetaerae and stink of perfume! Fancy preferring one of them to him!"

"What's the matter – don't tell me you're smitten too! What did he do to you all on campaign?By Apollo, leave the mooning and drooling to poor little Hylas! Anyway, Bagoas is just the right age for Alexander – Hephaestion's too old!"

"You're the one who's smitten – with that horrible little eunuch!"

"Keep your voice down, stupid, you'll wake him!"

Hephaestion turned over onto his side and the voices hushed.

Some hours later he was awoken by Alexander, who sent the page away before sitting down companionably on the bed. "Finally a moment of peace," he sighed, ruffling Hephaestion's dark curls, "I never thought I'd be so bored in a staff meeting, but given the choice between listening to my generals and spending the afternoon with you… come on, we'll have a long walk in the garden, that put real colour into your cheeks yesterday!"

"Alexander…" Hephaestion began, then trailed off. He wanted nothing more at that moment than to feel Alexander's arms around him; he knew all he had to do was ask, yet things were just not as simple as they had been when he had first… come back. Since then he had had plenty of time to watch Alexander with his officers and staff. He had a naturally demonstrative, emotional nature, everything that affected his soldiers, be it wounds, debts or even mutiny, he seemed to take personally. From what Hephaestion's own soldiers told him, Alexander seemed to see the army as an extension of himself and did not understand when it did not share his dreams or do exactly what he expected of it. Nursing his sick officers was just one of his peculiar traits. Obviously, Hephaestion and Alexander had been close. But how close? As close as Hephaestion gradually found himself wanting to be to… he laughed ironically at his own fancy… to his sweet golden friend? Alexander had said he was a special case. Had kissed him and called him "my love." Would he have said that to someone who was only a valued friend?

He could ask Alexander, here and now. But suppose he had had confessed his feelings already and been rejected? Would he end up driving Alexander away?

"There you go again," Alexander sighed, "off in that world of yours…"

"I'm sorry!" Hephaestion blinked. He had lost himself right in the act of shedding his dressing gown. Hardly the fine tuned concentration of a cavalry commander!

"For what? It's enough to have you here in body, at least in moments like this. Do you want help dressing?"

"No, I'll manage… Alexander, I think I should ask you – "

A knock on the door disturbed him. Bagoas entered, bowed politely to both of them. Hephaestion was displeased by his own vexation at seeing the eunuch and made himself smile cheerfully. "My King," Bagoas said to Alexander, "General Ptolemy asks to see you urgently… some dispatches from Bactria…"

"Can't it wait - ? No, you wouldn't be here if it could… I'm sorry, my friend," Alexander said, squeezing Hephaestion's arm, "duty calls – yet again. Is there anything you'd like before I go?"

I'd like you to kiss me. The thought seemed to come from nowhere; Hephaestion was startled by the strength of it, even more so when Alexander turned to look at him as if he had actually heard. For a few seconds they regarded each other doubtfully, then, quickly, sharply, Alexander leaned closer. Hephaestion had barely felt the touch of Alexander's lips upon his own before the other man was on his way to the door, calling back, "Bagoas can help you dress… I'll be back when I can…"

Then Alexander was gone, leaving Hephaestion and Bagoas alone together.

"Bagoas… may I ask you something impertinent?"

The Persian lifted his eyes slowly from the scroll in his lap, reluctantly meeting Hephaestion's gaze. "Of course, My Lord. I am at your command."

Hephaestion frowned. Bagoas watched him and tried to understand him. He had not always cared for the "old" Hephaestion, but at least he knew his own position with him. With this "new" one things were not quite so clear. Old Hephaestion, New Hephaestion. Now even I'm doing it, Bagoas thought dryly, even Alexander's doing it, though he tries not to. None of us know how to treat him. None of us are even sure just how bad his memory is…

"Bagoas… are you and Alexander… lovers?"

Bagoas hesitated. Then he held his head back proudly. "I am… Alexander's, yes, My Lord."

"Please just call me Hephaestion, its less confusing. You called me that… when I woke up, and I've heard you call Alexander just Alexander too…"

Bagoas twitched very slightly. He was still shy of being too familiar with the King in front of Macedonians and actively avoided it in front of his fellow Persians in spite of Alexander's insistence it was all right; he would have to be more careful.

"Hephaestion," he said with a small smile.

"Alexander's lucky to have you," Hephaestion said quietly, fiddling absently with the bed sheets, "you're very beautiful."

"Thank you… Hephaestion."

"I'm sorry for asking… only the Pages gossip so… I hope they don't bully you, some of them seem to be quite spiteful."

"No longer, Hephaestion," Bagoas answered carefully, not a little confused by the question. "I have grown used to their ways… and they to mine."

"I hope… the same was true for us?"

Bagoas could not help looking away. Not quite, Hephaestion, he wanted to say, until you fell sick I'd grown content with being ignored by you. Oh yes, at the beginning I longed to provoke your jealousy, to be acknowledged as your rival for my Lord's affections, but all I got from you was polite indifference. You saw me only as one of Alexander's amusements, not worthy of your contempt. Even when I went out of my way to cross you I was rewarded only with a sort of cheerful forbearance such as one might give a difficult and rather stupid child…

Roxana, ironically perhaps, had changed how Bagoas felt; when not even she, Alexander's wife, could break the hold Hephaestion had on Alexander's heart and mind, Bagoas had had to acknowledge that the man simply had no rivals. And with that had come a strange peace, for at least Hephaestion had never tried make his life hard, let alone rid himself of Bagoas all together, and seemed quite happy to let him keep his small but precious portion of Alexander's heart, whether it had been allotted to him by the One God or by that irksome arrow wielding brat the Greeks believed in.

Now, here, was this new and disturbing complication. For this new Hephaestion really seemed to want Bagoas to like him! And if Bagoas wasn't on his guard, the Macedonian just might get his wish!

Yes, I am Alexander's, he suddenly wanted to say, but not as much as you are.

He didn't say it, and was not quite sure why. Did he seriously believe he could keep the lovers apart forever? Did he even want to? Two days he had watched Alexander mourn, the most frightening two days of his life. Only two days, certainly. Perhaps the King would have gotten over Hephaestion, given time. Perhaps… Bagoas could allow himself such thoughts now that they were impossible… he might have grown more dependent on Bagoas himself, let him move into the large vacant space Hephaestion had left behind in his heart, let him stretch himself out in there and reveal the true quality and depth of his love, like the bare braches of a tree bursting into blossom when the spring came. Or perhaps, as in Bagoas' nightmares the first night he had seen Alexander's wild, wrenching, devastating grief, the King would have simply gone mad.

"You… were always courteous to me, Hephaestion," he said at last.

"I don't think I like the sound of that! Bagoas – "

"Shall I continue reading to you?"

Hephaestion backed down. "No… my mind was wandering, I was losing myself in the rhythm of your voice. It's a beautiful language! Here, come and sit beside me so we can read it together, you can test me on my letters. How strange memory is…" he added as Bagoas rose and seated himself gracefully on Hephaestion's bed, "when my wife walked into the room and spoke to me, I simply responded… I didn't even notice until later that we weren't speaking Macedonian or Greek…"

They both looked up as a knock resounded, and Hylas entered. He gave Bagoas an odd look before addressing Hephaestion. "I'm to sit with you, sir – Alexander has sent for Bagoas."

So they were lovers. Was it even any of his business? Hephaestion allowed Hylas to fuss about him a little, feeling guilty at overhearing what the boys had been saying about him behind his back. Suddenly he took hold of Hylas' wrist and sat him down beside him, forcing him to look him in the eye. "Can I trust you?"

"I hope so sir!" Hylas cried a bit too brightly; Hephaestion had obviously startled him.

"I've heard rumours… gossip. Hylas, are we… have we ever been… lovers?"

Hylas blushed violently. "No, sir," he mumbled and then added more eagerly, "you used to let me sleep in your bed sometimes, when we were on campaign... but that was all!"

Hephaestion gave the page a look of gentle scorn. "You're telling me I let a pretty thing like you share my bed and kept my hands to myself? All night? Every night?"

"Well…" Hylas began to chew nervously at his own lip. "It was me, really. My idea, I mean. To sleep with you. I… used to make up all sorts of silly excuses…say I was afraid of the dark or the wolves howling… or even the older boys!" When Hephaestion could not resist chuckling, Hylas dissolved into giggles. "I suppose you must have thought I was very silly!"

"It didn't stop me playing along! Are you being honest with me? I really never touched you?"

"You… used to cuddle me. Stroke my hair… sometimes you'd… kiss me… but not like that, you know… the other boys used to tease me about it, they said it was because I look like the King did at my age."

"You do look like him. Not that I can remember him then… although… at any rate, you're very similar. Except for your lovely blue eyes…"

"I thought perhaps that's why you didn't… do anything else. Because you didn't want to hurt me… use me…"

I doubt my motives were that honourable, Hephaestion thought wryly, more likely I didn't trust myself… or was afraid Alexander would find out and not like it… One thing was becoming clear, his feelings for Alexander were not anything new, nor were they his hidden, guilty secret. Was Alexander himself aware of them? Had he mooned after him like another Hylas? The page was only a child, far away from home, probably missing his own father and pushing through into manhood under circumstances which could not be easy; Hephaestion was a grown man, a veteran. He longed to ask for the truth, yet he feared it too. He reached up and stroked the boy's golden curls, smiled sadly as Hylas threw his arms about his neck and clung to him. He didn't have Alexander's alluring scent; perhaps, up close and in the dark, he had simply ceased to pass for Alexander. If he had ever entertained the thought, Hephaestion hoped he had begged the gods for forgiveness.

Drawing back, he placed a paternal kiss on Hylas's heated brow. "Tell me some more about that horrible desert," Hephaestion said.

Once again he was in that room. It was always the same room; even as he looked around him he was conscious of having stood within it, of witnessing these circumstances many times before. The room was ornate, luxurious, regal. It was full of people, all gathered around that wide bed with its purple draperies, and it smelled of death. Once again he heard the voices.

"They told him not to come to Babylon… they warned him, but he wouldn't listen… after he died, he wouldn't listen to anyone!"

"There's talk of poison. They're saying he's been murdered…!"

"He has. By that Athenian bastard!"

"What? Oh, come on, I know you hated him, but that's ridiculous!"

"Is it? What has it been – nine months? He may be dead and reduced to a pile of ashes, but he isn't at rest… he won't be until he's taken our King from us – and sent us all to Hades! For weeks after he died I felt his hands on my throat…"

"Oh, that I can believe! If it wasn't for that inspired show of grovelling we all thought you were for it!"

"Laugh all you want… but the joke's on us all. Look around you, just look at them. The mighty Companions! Which one of them would you say is "the strongest"? No! I don't know either… but I have a terrible suspicion that they'll all kill each other trying to find out!"

As always, he tried to push through the crowd to get a look at the person lying in the bed, but they would not step aside for him, nor did they even seem to feel him pushing against them. Because he had no place amongst them, did not belong in this time, in this place. Because he was –

"Alexander!" Hephaestion sat up, feeling cold perspiration running down his back as he stared frantically into the darkness. Gradually his breathing steadied and his pounding heart slowed. He had had that dream so many times now, out of those sort of dreams it was the most common. He never discussed those dreams, even with Alexander, because they were so distinctly different from all the others. They were frightening in their clarity, disturbing in the level of awareness they allowed him. Each time they came, even within them he remembered the times before.

Fumbling to light the lamp, he reached for his robe and pulled it on. This was the first night he had slept completely alone, without even a servant or a page to keep watch. Hylas had offered to stay but Hephaestion had refused him and sent away Admetus when he had arrived, giving the younger boy an odd look as he announced he had come to relieve him. It was time he learned to survive without help.

Yet the silence in the room seemed deafening, and he did not think he could stand it. Admetus and Hylas would only be in the anteroom, sleeping or idling away their time, he could send for one of them… but it was more than the idea of sleep which unsettled him. He had to get out of this room. The scent of death lingered within it, as if it had escaped from his dream.

Alexander lay back against the pillows and let his eyes drift shut. He had itched to go to Hephaestion one more time, even just to wish him a peaceful sleep. He had almost determined to do it when Bagoas had unexpectedly appeared in his room and Alexander had demanded to know why he wasn't with Hephaestion.

"Hylas is with Hephaestion, Alexander," Bagoas had answered, "he said you wished to see me…"

"I did no such thing!" Alexander had frowned, then his frown had turned to a grin. "That cheeky little bastard!" he had cried. And then his grin had soured into a scowl. Hylas' puppy-love had been amusing once; Alexander had almost sympathised with him, knowing full well what it was like to be a pubescent boy quite sick with love for tall, dark Hephaestion. But things were so different now. Alexander couldn't be there all the time, keeping his beloved comfortable and amused. As the meeting with Ptolemy had been followed by audiences with various envoys, then inspections of the troops, then a seemingly endless dispute between two of his courtiers about accommodation for their new wives which it seemed only the King was able to settle, Alexander had grown more and more weary. It was not his usual restlessness; it was more akin to boredom. All he had wanted was to return to Hephaestion. Angered by his own childishness, he had punished himself. When a message had come that the new horses he had ordered had arrived, he did not do what he wanted to do – to collect Hephaestion so they could look at them together – but had gone alone.

In the end he had taken a cold bath and gone to bed not with Xenephon or Herodotus or Homer but with some intensely dry dispatches and a complaining letter from Antipater. Leonidas would have been proud of him.

"…Alexander…?"

Alexander's eyes snapped open, his hand shooting under the pillow for his dagger. A tall figure stood in the doorway, blinking in confusion. "Hephaestion…!"

"This is your room…?"

Alexander sat straighter. "You didn't know?"

"I was wandering… I don't know why I came this way…" Hephaestion was gazing around the room with haunted eyes. Then he shook his head and his expression cleared. "But – the guards let me through! What's the matter with them? By – by all the gods, Alexander – your life could have been – "

"Hephaestion," Alexander cut in gently, "they let you through because they knew I'd never refuse you entry."

"But – at this time of night?"

"Even so." Alexander smiled softly across at him, then, after a moment's thought, "you look cold. Would you like to come in with me?"

They gazed into each other's eyes for a long time before Hephaestion looked away shyly. "I think I would. Have I ever… slept here before?"

Ignoring the tightness in his own chest, the ridiculous fluttering of his stomach, Alexander kept his eyes upon Hephaestion's face as he drew back the covers and held out his hand in welcome. "Many times… my love."

Slowly Hephaestion took his hand. "I… like it when you call me that. But I thought… I told myself you were just being kind…"

Alexander could not help releasing a small sigh. "Then you still don't remember anything at all… of us?"

Hephaestion looked up sharply, his eyes suddenly bright. "I wasn't sure – I'm still not sure if its memory or fantasy! I remember… summer sun and wild flowers and cool water… I remember a golden boy… wanting him to love me… and a small room and a warm bed and… a body so hot it felt as though it was gripped by fever… I know I want you… more than anyone else I've seen or spoken to since I… came back… from where I was… I know my heart beats faster when you walk into the room – it really does – and when I first saw your face… oh, Alexander…"

Alexander found himself smiling again. "You told me I was beautiful."

"Did I? I'm sorry, I was so confused…"

"Then you didn't mean it?"

Hephaestion awkwardly fingered the sash of his robe. "I meant it." Tentatively he let go of Alexander's hand, reached out to stroke his face. Alexander fervently kissed the fingers Hephaestion touched to his lips. Without another word, Hephaestion untied the sash and let the robe fall from his body before slipping beneath the layers of silk and fur. Both men caught their breath as their bare bodies connected; their arms locked about one another and for a long time they stayed that way without moving. Finally, shy as a virgin girl, Hephaestion closed his eyes and lifted his head, offering his lips to Alexander. Caressing his face, Alexander leaned forward and kissed him.

"I love you, Hephaestion," he whispered, "my heart has been your slave since we were boys back in Macedon and it has never asked for its freedom. If only I could make you recall just what we've been to each other… we're lovers, we have never stopped being lovers… but we are so much more than that… I call you philalexandros… for you're the friend of Alexander, this Alexander, the one who is here in your arms, not the King, nor the Conqueror, nor the General… no wife, no other lover, has belonged only to this Alexander as you do… nor has he given his absolute love to anyone but you…" He watched with tender amusement as Hephaestion searched for a reply, gave a soft chuckle as the other man gave up and simply asked to be kissed again.

Hephaestion could not help the faint tremor in his limbs as Alexander's naked body settled upon his and he slowly let his hands explore it, bemused and beguiled by turns by how its smaller size and almost boyish slenderness contrasted with its hard sinew and startling strength. Even as Alexander kissed and touched, he whispered words of reassurance and love, gentle despite the force of passion Hephaestion could almost feel radiating from him. He felt his own desire, checked and scorned and beaten down these past months, rising eagerly to meet it, yet he too held back, wanting to savour each new sensation. He moaned again and again as Alexander kissed him everywhere, leaving no part of him neglected. He wanted to respond yet again he held back, mesmerised by the intensity Alexander poured into each kiss, into even the lightest caress. When at last Alexander crawled up to seek his lips he could hold back no longer, catching his golden one in his arms and kissing him roughly.

Still Alexander remained patient, taking an obvious delight in reacquainting Hephaestion with each new form of pleasure they could experience together. It might have been as his first time, except that his body responded with seasoned confidence. When at last his King crouched over him, making it quite apparent what he wanted, Hephaestion was startled but not alarmed; when they were ready he let Alexander settle onto him and was both surprised and relieved by how familiar, how right it felt to take him.

"Such a deep scar…" Hephaestion leaned close, pressing a kiss to the still livid mark on Alexander's breast where his lung had been pierced, "I'm surprised it didn't kill you! Does it still hurt?"

"Only when I overexert myself," Alexander responded dreamily, running his fingers through Hephaestion's hair, "the physicians told me to rest… there never seemed time… well, now I'm resting. And, though I'd never admit it to them, I feel the better for it. I feel even better for this," he added with a playful smile, "Gods, how I've missed you…" Suddenly a shadow passed over him, chilling him and making him draw closer, resting his head upon his lover's chest. "Hephaestion, I'm sorry… I've been wanting to say it since… since you got sick… I know you probably don't remember, but the last time we made love… just before you got sick… you tried to tell me something and I didn't want to hear it. I just want you to know that I understand now…"

"What was I trying to tell you?" Hephaestion asked softly, stroking Alexander's neck.

"You were trying to claim back your Alexander – this Alexander – from the King. I think you were afraid there wasn't much left of him. I didn't understand, I thought you were just jealous, that you resented all the time we spent apart, the fact that more and more of my time was devoted to other things… I thought you were like the other Macedonians, resenting my Persian courtiers… but that wasn't what it was about. You weren't trying to get "Alexander" back for yourself… you were trying to get him back for me! I'd lost myself, my love… it was as if I'd been caught up in my own blaze of glory, been blinded by it and lost my way; since the day we rode out of Macedon I'd hardly given myself or anyone else time to draw breath, let alone reflect… I don't know when I really started to lose myself… maybe after Cleitos… maybe back in Tyre… many people tried to tell me, some lost their lives for it. Even when my own soldiers mutinied I never really came back to myself…"

"Why didn't I try to tell you? Was I afraid of you?"

"I doubt that!"

"Then maybe I didn't care. Maybe I was lost too. From the moment I… came back, I've felt that you and I were linked together in some way… perhaps we got lost together."

"I don't know – all I know is how it was. It wasn't until you… when you left me…"

"When I died." Hephaestion's hand did not pause in its gentle petting. "Did I really have to die to make a point? Tell me, Alexander, which one of us is the most obstinate, me dying to win an argument, or you refusing to give in until I did!"

"Hephaestion, it's not funny."

"Alexander…" Hephaestion gently lifted Alexander's head to look into his eyes. "Its time you told me what happened to me. Perhaps then I'll begin to understand quite a lot of things… and I don't think it can wait much longer."

Alexander moaned softly in protest as Hephaestion drew himself up into a sitting position and pulled Alexander with him, but when he felt Hephaestion's arms close about him, he sighed and nodded. Slowly, aware of how absurd it all sounded, he told his friend everything he could remember, even his conversations with the ivory Eros.

When he was finished, Hephaestion was silent for a long time. Then, quite unexpectedly he asked, "Alexander… out of your officers, which one is from Athens?"

Alexander looked up at him in surprise. "Why… you are, for one. You were born there, you came to Macedon as a small child – I'm sorry, it was stupid of me to forget about that, but… did someone mention it?"

"No… not exactly… it doesn't matter…" Hephaestion murmured, "this isn't the room… I thought for a moment, but they said… Babylon. It was in Babylon."

"Babylon, you remember that, do you?" Alexander watched him intently, "I've been thinking of going back there, do you want to – "

"No!" Hephaestion's eyes widened in the dim light and his grip tightened. "No, we shouldn't go there! Not yet, anyway… not… for at least four months…"

"Hephaestion, what are you – "

"The Eros… do you think he'll be offended that we didn't make love in his presence?"

The change of subject confused Alexander further; he thought he had grown used to these odd new moods, but this time he was unsettled. "Bring him here tomorrow," he said with something close to desperation, "bring all your things here. I want to sleep with you in my arms every night, I never want to wake without knowing where you are!"

"Alexander!" Hephaestion protested, but the king could see the pleasure his words gave. "Your wives! And – Bagoas…"

"I can still go to my wives… as you can to yours, if you want. As to Bagoas…"

"Do you love him?" Hephaestion's tone remained soft, but he avoided Alexander's eyes, staring resolutely at his shoulder as he traced its curve and the pattern of scars upon it.

Alexander hesitated, momentarily startled by the clarity of his own thoughts. "No. I care for him, but no. For a while I thought I might… and he wasn't the first I felt like that about. When it came to Roxana I was absolutely sure I was in love – it even frightened me, a lot more, I think, than it frightened you! But the feeling didn't last, it never lasts. I wasn't sure before, but now… now I think I've truly loved only three people in my life, really loved, in a way that makes my heart ache… the first two were my mother and father. I loved both of them, but over the years I learned not to completely trust either of them. There's only one person I've loved and trusted completely. You, Hephaestion."

Hephaestion met his gaze at last, his eyes shining with love. They exchanged a tender kiss, but when Alexander tried to deepen it Hephaestion drew back. "He loves you, you know that, don't you?"

Alexander was silent for a long time. He had of course noticed Hephaestion's friendliness to Bagoas, indeed to so many unlikely people since his illness, but it was still hard to reconcile this comment to the Hephaestion who had hardly deigned to acknowledge Bagoas' existence beyond an irritable frown when the eunuch intruded on his time alone with Alexander. "Yes, I know. I won't pretend I didn't like it. I've always needed love… needed people to love me as well as respect or fear me. My soldiers, my generals, even the people I've conquered…"

"And they do love you," Hephaestion replied gravely, "so much so it… intimidates me. I'd discovered enough, and remembered enough, to sense that many people resented me, even if until… tonight… I wasn't quite sure why. Now I know, its not just resentment but jealousy. Jealousy of the love you have for me. And now, with you giving me so much of your time…"

"Hephaestion…" Alexander reached up, taking his lover's face in his hands, "my sweet love, I learned a lesson when we were parted… however high the price is, I'd pay it a hundred times over just to have another night like this…"

"But – Alexander – "

"Trust me, my love. Everything will be all right…" Even as Alexander pulled Hephaestion's head down and kissed him with a passion that was almost brutal, he wondered who he was reassuring – Hephaestion or himself.

TBC