THE IVORY EROS - CHAPTER 5

SUMMARY: The path of true love never runs smooth, even second time around. Hephaestion begins to worry whether there is a place for his "new" self in Alexander's world.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Thank you all once again for your quick and in-depth reviews, I do realise I'm updating a bit fast but I'd like to have this all "done and dusted" by Christmas Eve ( I wouldn't want to ruin anyone's Christmas day…) Thank you in particular to Koalred, Queendel, Trust No One (thank you for the reassuance!) and Coral Dawn (glad you like Hylas, I like him too though he'll never get anywhere with Hephaestion - life is hard when you're young and in love!) for reviewing the last chapter - and especially to Parisad for such a lovely meditation on the relationship between Alexander and Hephaestion. If you're the one who wrote "no longer boys" (sorry if you're not!) IT WAS BEAUTIFUL.

Hephaestion wasn't reassured; in the end he was just biding his time. Nine months passed. And the dream stopped. A future was lost forever – good riddance to it. If he had to lose Alexander to save him from that future, so be it.

Lose Alexander…

He could not put the thought aside. It had begun to crystallize in his mind the day he had finally solved the mystery of why he had no personal letters from Alexander. They had been in bed together when he had noticed the beautiful gold box by Alexander's bed. Alexander had reminded him of how, when he "inherited" it from Darius, his officers had debated what should be kept in it. He had eventually put his prized copy of the Iliad. Hephaestion had started so violently that Alexander had thought he could actually recall the incident. But Hephaestion had recalled something else. A box. A simple wooden box, the better to detract attention. He had known exactly where to find it – buried at the bottom of his travelling trunk underneath his armour and all the other military items he had not needed or even thought about since his sickness. He couldn't quite remember whether he had been driven by paranoia, discretion or simply a need for privacy even from his own staff, but when he had read some of the letters within he thought it might be all three.

Dearest Hephaestion

You have been gone barely a day and already I cannot rest, cannot relax, know I will not be able to sleep. You know why I send you away, who else can I send, who else can I trust as I trust you? Who else can I rely on to think only of MY interests, to know what I would want, not just what they think is right? But not to have you within reach, even if not in my bed then in a tent or a room close by, what torment this is! Tomorrow morning I will sacrifice to Zeus himself to keep you safe for me…

Dearest Hephaestion

As I know you are drawing close, how I ache for you! Nobody can give me what you give me, never will I allow another the freedom of my body I have granted you, no-one has ever possessed me as you have, promise me you will not stall on your journey, come quickly to me, I am driven to torment, to very madness by longing for you, don't tease your King, beloved, come as fast as you can…

Dearest Hephaestion

Forgive a romantic fool for writing to you even as you lie asleep in my bed; I cannot sleep for joy. Tomorrow, my love, tomorrow all will be as I dreamed. I will marry Stateira and you Drypetis…

Hephaestion, give me proud, strong nephews, give me nieces with Drypetis' grace and breeding and your beauty; then, in the course of time, my son shall marry one of your daughters and when our first grandson arrives then – at last – a child shall inherit this empire, a child of your blood and mine, and you and I shall at last be united, no longer one the King and one the Subject, we shall be utterly unified… and we shall inherit the world…

At first he had read the letters with eyes full of tears and a heart full of love, but then he had found one that disturbed him more and more each time he read it.

My dearest Hephaestion

Tell me, my dear beloved, my one true and loyal friend, tell me what they want of me. Haven't I given them everything they want and far more? I have taken them from Macedon, tribesmen, hunters, farmers and made them as wealthy and powerful as princes; with me they have shared glory and excitement, they have seen things no other Macedonian or Greek has even dreamed of seeing… And now they say this isn't enough! They don't want more gold, they say, they don't want more conquest, they don't want to see what lies beyond the next hill – they just want to go home! They say they miss their families! Their families who now live in luxury and prestige – thanks to me! Have I seen my mother or my sisters since I left Macedon? Haven't I shared everything I have with these ungrateful curs? Haven't I shared their suffering, marching with them, fighting amongst them, taking the same wounds, starving, thirsting, facing death…

To Tartarus with the lot of them! All I've done is make them into fat, lazy, venal cowards! None of them have proved loyal, from the pages to the common soldiers to my own Companions! Well, I'll make them governors and satraps if that's all they want, I'll replace the whole damned army with Persians and Indians or a pull a whole new army from Maecdon, fresh blood, untainted by the complacency of the generation before them!

You and I my dearest love, you and I will fight on regardless! Even if all else fails, we will give up everything, leave them all behind, recruit an army as we travel… or forget an army altogether, just you and I, exploring forever until we reach the very edge of the world…

Don't fail me, my darling, without you I cannot hold on! Forgive me, I know you won't, nobody has ever understood me as you have! Just you and I, Hephaestion, Achilles and Patroklos, fighting on, no matter what…

Perhaps when he had first read it the letter had stimulated him, filled him with new life and new dreams; now it worried and frightened him. Such ferocious, desperate energy, such restless, untameable hunger! Yes, it was still exciting, it was even arousing, but it was also quite exhausting.

Since the day he had read it, he found he was haunted by returning images of a boy so mercurial, so untiring, that Hephaestion had had to imprison him between his thighs and stop his mouth with kisses just to keep him silent and still and give them both some peace. Lovemaking had brought peace, temporarily, he remembered that much. But they weren't boys anymore and he couldn't permanently subdue that raging spirit with sex. Alexander was still riding on the tide of euphoria at having Hephaestion returned to him. For a long time it had carried Hephaestion along too. But no longer. He had been thrown up on the shore, and sooner or later Alexander would be thrust there beside him. Then the excuses would begin, the apologies and absences. Alexander would regain his old vitality and pace and he would leave Hephaestion behind.

He couldn't sit and wait for it to happen. He had that much pride left, at least.

He had thought the briefing would never end. At least such meetings went quicker now he no longer had the urge to interrupt quite so often. He sensed a restlessness, a discomfort among the Companions, but he could not bring himself to think about it. All he wanted was to get back to Hephaestion, who was still suffering with bad cramps in his legs and back and had been thoroughly exhausted after Alexander had taken him riding the morning before. Hephaestion seemed dissatisfied with his own lack of progress over the last ten months and Alexander was beginning to sense he was not the only one. Only Alexander himself didn't feel either impatient or restive; he was beginning to feel he would be quite content to spend night and day nursing his lover. The very idea was so alien it deserved careful examination, but he was not in the mood to think about that either.

"Joy to you, my love," he grinned as he found Hephaestion sitting in bed reading. "What are you reading now?"

"Homer," Hephaestion replied softly, staring down at the scroll before him.

"Perfect!" Alexander began to shed his clothes. "Come, let me get in with you, we can take a bath later, but for now all I want is to rest my head in your divine lap and hear you read from the Iliad to me in your best Greek accent…"

"It's the Odyssey," Hephaestion replied, raising his head briefly to accept Alexander's greeting kiss. He had a deep, pensive look in his eyes, one he had often had since his illness.

"Oh." Alexander frowned slightly. "Well, for a change…"

"It's a very different book," Hephaestion added, laying the scroll aside as Alexander slipped into the bed, "it's not at all about the death and glory Achilles worshipped. It's more about homesickness. All Odysseus wants to do is go home. He doesn't want riches, glory, beautiful women, even immortality, all he wants is to go home to see his wife, son and parents again. It's made me think… Perhaps I need to go home too." He hesitated, avoiding Alexander's gaze as he fumbled beneath the bedclothes and drew out a letter. "This came for me. It's from my father."

"Then you wrote to him at last?" Alexander felt a small rush of relief. So that was all this was about. Hephaestion had been putting off writing to his family for months and forbidden Alexander to do it. Only more and more distinctive recollections of them had made him reconsider. "My love, I'm so glad… how did they take the news?"

"It's a letter any son would think himself blessed to receive," Hephaestion answered with a wistful smile, "they promise it changes nothing… and beg me to come home. They tell me," he added with a suggestive roll of the eyes, "that one of my youngest female cousins is now of marital age. But they also say I can bring Drypetis with me if I… think it appropriate. Oh, and they send their deepest respects to you. Actually my mother sends you her love, though my father wasn't sure I should mention that."

Alexander chuckled softly, leaning back against Hephaestion. "Tell her the feeling is returned – respectfully."

"Perhaps I should tell her in person. They're growing old, after all, and I have nephews and nieces I've never seen…"

"Well, why not, after all!" Alexander agreed cheerfully, "a holiday will do you good. The gods know I don't want to part from you for a moment, but a few months away, when you're feeling stronger…"

"Alexander…" Hephaestion's arms tightened around him, in comfort, or perhaps in restraint. "I don't think I'll ever be strong enough to serve you the way I did. I'm still physically so weak, I still get confused and can't concentrate, my reflexes are too slow… I'd never survive on the front line of a campaign and you know it."

"But your memory – that's getting better – "

"Slowly, yes, but too slowly! How long can we wait? Think of the Arabian campaign!"

"That can wait…" Alexander was stunned by how easy it was to dismiss all of his plans, how little they mattered.

"For how long, Alexander? Your generals are restless, your soldiers are getting fat and lazy – "

"Soon, soon, just another month or two."

"I won't be ready in a month or two. You'd have to go without me. If it's a choice between being without you here and being without you in Macedon – "

"No!" Alexander choked down the rising swell of panic within himself. Once such words would have roused his fury, might even have seemed treacherous. Now all he felt was a widening gulf of despair. "I won't go on campaign without you! So you can't lead the cavalry! You were the one who best knew how to organise the siege engines, the bridges, the logistics… and your diplomatic skills, if you could only remember the times you brought supplies to the army when we…"

"Alexander, I was never just your engineer, or your logistics officer, I was one of your Companions, your Chilliarch – think about it, if you were to fall in battle, I'd be next in line to take control! But I couldn't – you know I couldn't! Even if I wanted to the army would never accept me!"

"No, Hephaestion, I won't accept that!" Alexander pulled free, turning to face him. "There's not a man in this army who doesn't wish you anything but good health and a swift recovery! See how many visitors you have! Or perhaps you think I've ordered them to come to you!"

"I'm deeply grateful for the love and kindness I've been shown," Hephaestion answered gently, lowering his eyes, "but people grow impatient and bored with an invalid who makes no progress. They have their own affairs to deal with, affairs I have less and less to do with. They have their own lives to live, their own interests to forward. Even pretty little Hylas is well on his way to becoming a young man – before you know it he'll fall in love with someone else, he might even want to marry… Even you, Alexander… when the Arabian campaign finally begins… suppose I do go with the army, handle the siege machinery, take care of supplies and troop numbers… how often would we see each other?"

"But Hephaestion," Alexander forced a laugh, "we saw so little of each other before…"

"Maybe I didn't care then. But I do now. Maybe I thrived on what little love you had time to give me, maybe I didn't need much love then. But I need it now. I need to be loved, to know I'm not alone. Can you understand that?"

Tears stung Alexander's eyes as he met Hephaestion's. "Of course I can... but – that's not difficult, we'll see each other every night! You'll share my tent! Just like you share my room now! If I wasn't so driven, so obsessed by what was right or wrong, by doing without what I wanted, we'd never have slept apart all these years… like Achilles and Patroklos, we…"

"Alexander…" Hephaestion reached out to clasp his hand. "I'm your Chilliarch, not your mistress. I can't sit around with the camp followers, curling my hair and looking pretty, waiting for your return!"

"Now you're being absurd!"

"Am I? Look about you, Alexander! Already people have begun to resent me – I'm a nuisance and a burden! In a military camp I'd be a laughing stock!"

Alexander drew back, hardening himself against Hephaestion and against the pain growing inside himself. "It sounds as though you've made up your mind!"

"Surely you can see I'm right?"

"I – " Alexander couldn't quite answer that. Once, though it broke his heart, he knew he would have agreed. Had Hephaestion been badly wounded during the Persian campaigns, would he have stopped everything to wait until he was better? No, he would have left him behind somewhere, told him to rejoin the army when he could. Nothing would have stopped him back then. Now? He was no longer sure. Waking up beside Hephaestion had once been a luxury, a treat. Now it felt almost a necessity. Am I just getting old? he wondered, shaking his head, old and silly and sentimental? At thirty-three? "No, I can't see you're right," he said at last, and though it was the truth, it sounded like wilfulness, both to Hephaestion and to himself. "I can't believe this, Hephaestion – I can't believe you want to leave me!"

Hephaestion touched his cheek, leaning forward to kiss him, but Alexander turned his head away. "Please, beloved," his friend whispered, "please don't be angry. Don't ruin the time we have left…"

Alexander threw back the bedclothes and rose with a hard, bitter laugh. "A high price to pay, indeed! The gods have a wry sense of humour! The price to pay to have you back is to lose you all over again! And you – you won't even put up a fight!"

"You don't understand," Hephaestion breathed, turning away as Alexander rounded angrily upon him.

"What else is there to understand?"

"When I awoke…" his lover's voice trembled. "When I came back, I was more afraid than – well, I hope than I've ever been in my entire life. But then you were there, holding me in your arms, like a bright light illuminating the darkness, and I thought that as long as I had you I would survive this. That night I came to you and you told me we were lovers I thought I could never have been this happy before, memory or no memory. Don't you see that it's for that reason, as much as anything we might have been to each other before, that I have to leave you now? Don't you see what it would do to me, to catch one resentful glance from you, to have you push me away, to hear you say you had no time for me? If separation is the price I have to pay, better that than have you grow tired of me! Perhaps, after all, we should obey the will of the gods?"

"The will of the gods!" Alexander sneered, pouring himself a cup of wine and gulping it down. "What utter crap! You don't care, that's what this is about! Life's too complicated for you here and you want to get out! Yes, that's what this is about! I always suspected you didn't need me as much as I needed you, the way you tolerated the likes of Bagoas and the others while if I'd thought you'd bedded Hylas, if I'd thought you could have shown any other the same passion you'd shown me, I – I – "

"Alexander…!" Hephaestion slipped out of the bed and tried to gather Alexander to him, but the King pushed him away. Faint colour rose in Hephaestion's cheeks; for the first time since his illness, Alexander saw a flash of that old temper, of that old, easily injured pride. He stepped back. "Perhaps I should sleep in my own room tonight."

"No." Alexander drained his cup and put it down, reaching to pick up his clothes. "I'll go to Roxana tonight, I've been neglecting her far too much…"

He dressed and left quickly, so that he couldn't see the indignation turning to sadness in Hephaestion's eyes.

TBC