Title: "After Ecbatana"

Author: Baliansword

Chapter: 4, "Word from Macedonia"

Alexander had awoken early and left Hephaestion asleep in his room. It would have displeased him to wake him. It was perhaps the calmest sleep Hephaestion had experienced since illness had taken him. So the king now sat in the other half of the room. Here he could lean back in his chair and see Hephaestion asleep on the bed, yet at the same time was secluded enough not to worry about making little noises here and there.

In silence Bagoas had entered the room earlier. He seemed to take no notice of Hephaestion. Instead of commenting he cast his eyes upon the floor and handed Alexander a scroll. This was all he did before he left as quickly and quietly as he had come. Only when he heard the secret entrance to the room shut did Alexander glance down at the scroll. It must be important for Bagoas to use the passage unknown to others, besides the king and Hephaestion.

Untying the ribbon and tossing it onto the table he quietly unrolled the scroll. Before looking down at the words he made sure once more that Hephaestion still slept well. He was getting progressively better, but Alexander wanted to take no chances. Should Hephaestion need something he wanted to make sure that he was not far away.

Looking down he sighed. Instantly he recognized the writing on the scroll. It was his mother's own writing, not even that of a scribe. What she could want now Alexander did not know. Nor did he particularly care at the moment but knew that he could not read the letter unread. Sighing, he checked Hephaestion once more, and then averted his eyes back to the parchment.

My son, the letter read, I am sorry to hear of Hephaestion's illness. It has been long since either of you have written, so I take it that the cause can only be Hephaestion's health. You know, that I, as your mother worry for you. I worry, for without Hephaestion, you lack your senses. This is why you have not written me, asked of my being, because Hephaestion has not told you to. Alexander –do you love me so little even now that I have pushed you, and in doing so, you have the world? Yet what is the world with no one to share it with?

Hephaestion told me of Roxanne. I can only imagine that you know what he thinks of her. His contempt must be visible in those eyes of his. Yet he is Hephaestion, and he does not speak too ill of her to me, but at the same time I know what his words mean. She is a barbarian woman Alexander, nothing more. To begin she must have amused you but why keep her around now? You are Alexander, the Great, and you can have any woman you desire. You do not need her for an heir.

What is this I hear of you marrying Hephaestion away? Do you think that this would make him happy? Of course it will not, he wants no woman, he wants you. It is your heart that he desires my son. Give that to him and you give him the world. But how is he now, I wonder.

I can only imagine what sicknesses you have seen in these far away countries. Somewhere I am sure that Hephaestion picked up the illness he has now. If it is an illness, for if Roxanne is like me as you say, then perhaps it is not an illness at all. It is hard for a woman to share the heart of her lover with another, and in her lands, especially a male lover.

I do not know where you now, only assume that you are still in Ecbatana, but I am sure that this will reach you. When it does, I hope that you shall respond to me Alexander. It was only you I ever thought of. Surely you must know this Alexander, for you are of my womb, and are therefore linked with my soul. If you saw not what I did for you, look back now, and you will see.

Give my regards to Hephaestion, and to your wife. Tell Hephaestion that I wish him to fair better, for I miss speaking with him. Odd, that I speak with him more than I do anyone, even my son. I love you Alexander, more than I love the waking days. Do me proud, my Achilles. Your mother –Olympias.

Alexander tossed the scroll onto the table. He really wanted nothing to do with her. Love him, of course she did, but in all honesty she loved herself more. But he could not profess her to be wrong about Hephaestion. She knew, that was her talent he supposed, everything there was to know about his relationship with Hephaestion.

"Alexander," Hephaestion said quietly, as he leaned against the threshold of the door. His voice drew Alexander from his thoughts. It was odd. He had not even heard him get up. Hephaestion only inclined his head towards the scroll, and in a soft tone asked, "Is it from your mother?"

"Yes," Alexander said with a nod. "She misses speaking with you. She would like me to tell you this. I knew you spoke with her, but apparently you speak with her more than me."

Hephaestion smiled softly, "And does that surprise you?"

Alexander glanced up. He shook his head no then. Of course it really did not surprise him. Avoiding his mother was now one of his talents. First he had Babylon, and now he had part of India. Why did he need to speak with her? Hephaestion on the other hand must have some kind of reasoning.

"I'm not sure what she wants me to write," Alexander admitted quietly.

"She has not seen you in years. Perhaps seeing each other would do you both good," Hephaestion suggested. Ever since she asked to come to Babylon months ago Hephaestion had been suggesting it. Alexander had been the one to decline, no matter where they were. It was as if he thought seeing her would force him to weaken to her powers, and he would loose everything he worked so hard for.

"Besides," Hephaestion added, "I too miss Babylon."

Alexander looked up at him. He had never known Hephaestion to like Babylon so well. He supposed, thinking about it, that it really wasn't Babylon that Hephaestion had disliked. It had been the Alexander he had met there. It had not only been his neglect, which included Bagoas, but the way he had conducted himself. Having parties where he had drunken himself into madness had not seemed to please Hephaestion, for it was he who would end up putting Alexander to bed, and he would endure words that should have never crossed his ears.

Yet Alexander missed Babylon as well. Perhaps he wanted to see Darius' palace again just as much as Hephaestion did. They were not the only one. His men grew weary, and they wanted to return home, or to places they called home. Most would end up in Babylon or Macedonia.

"Babylon," Alexander said quietly.

"A suggestion," Hephaestion responded. Yet he then immediately thought of what Alexander would say. "It does not mean that I don't want to go on. I will, got to Arabia with you that is."

"I know," Alexander agreed. He had to. Hephaestion would follow him anywhere. This had already been made clear. When all of his men hated him, for they wanted to stop trekking the world and settle somewhere in it, only one man would be on his side. That man was always Hephaestion, and in the roughest of times, he would find ways to convince others that going on would not be so bad. How he did, Alexander did not know, yet perhaps it was part of the reason why others hated him so.

But he had almost lost the man that he held so dear in his heart. Vulnerability had let itself be known to him. Perhaps traveling further would only force him and Hephaestion apart again. This he clearly did not want. As for Babylon, the place was lovely, and his campaign was strongest there. He could rule from Babylon from little trouble, far less than he had now.

"Let us go back," Alexander said suddenly, "to Babylon."

Hephaestion smiled. He then turned, holding the sheet he had wrapped around himself, and went back to the bedroom. Alexander watched him go, thinking that perhaps he was not the son of a god, but Hephaestion likely was. Hephaestion sometimes reminded him of Aphrodite, and Apollo, all at the same time. If he was the son of a god, he was purely divine. Alexander had decided this years ago.

News of their return to Babylon found its way around the palace like wild fire. Alexander only had to select a few of the Companion Calvary to tell. They did a good job getting the information out. Men were packing, some packed so quickly they were done within an hour, others finished before lunch. Alexander decided to stay inside his apartments though, with Hephaestion, who only left once to bring them back a tray of fine food.

"They all wish to see you," Hephaestion declared as he shut the door, making sure to lock it. "I think some do not believe you. Most do, if only because they want it to be true, but some are skeptical."

"What should I write my mother," Alexander asked as he picked up a goblet of wine, taking a deep drink. He had begun to write her so many times already. Each time he tore the letter up, crumpled it, and threw it to the ground in a ball. Hephaestion wrote her often enough, perhaps he could have better luck. The words just would not flow onto the paper like they should.

"It depends," Hephaestion replied. "What is it that you want to say to her? Although I am sure that if you simply signed you name to a piece of parchment she would be pleased enough. She missed you Alexander, almost as much as…"

"As what?"

"Nothing."

"No," Alexander inquired. "What were you going to say? She misses me almost as much as what?"

"I was going to say," Hephaestion said ethereally, "She misses you almost as much as I did."

Alexander looked at him, stared into the depths of his cerulean eyes. Alexander then began to think, back to Babylon. Had he really abandoned Hephaestion so? He knew that they had been separate, that space had filled the void between them –and in his case Bagoas filled it as well- but he did not know that they were truly that separate. Hephaestion was pained, that he knew, but he did not know to what extent. He did not know, because Hephaestion had never told him. He had never voiced his pain. He had merely followed Alexander, silently, wherever he asked to go.

"Oh Phae," Alexander said as he leaned closer, wrapping and arm around Hephaestion, and drawing him close. He put his chin on his shoulder, and inhaled the fragrance of him. With his fingers he twirled Hephaestion's dark hair around his fingers.

Hephaestion held him, thinking nothing ill of him. He never could have hated Alexander, try as he might. For deep down he knew that Alexander would come back to him. Their souls were one, he knew, and in knowing this he tried not to worry. It was Alexander that he had feared for when he slipped away. It had scared him to see Alexander so far away from him.

"I will never leave you again," Alexander promised as he kissed Hephaestion's neck. He did not release his hold on him. He would never let go of him again, he vowed. Hephaestion let out a small breath of air. He then buried his face in Alexander's neck. He too wrapped his fingers in Alexander's golden hair.

"I know," he whispered. "I know."