Title: "The First Campaign"
Author: BalianswordChapter: 10, "King of Macedonia"
A/N: So Alexander wins his first battle, now we jump ahead a little in time. It is now October, 336 BC. Pausanias has killed Philip, and Alexander is now the King of Macedonia at the age of twenty. This is only four days after Philip's death.
000
He put his hand against the door but did not yet have the strength to push it open. Instead he sighed and put his forehead against the door, wishing that he could be braver perhaps. No one had entered though. No one thought him weaker for not being able to be the first. Silence drifted through the corridor and he had to glance over his shoulder once to make sure that nothing was wrong. The silence bothered him, but the noise would have been far worse had it drifted under the door and into the room.
He glanced down at the newest tray of food that sat at his feet. Silently he bent down and picked up the golden platter. Then, with a deep breath, he pushed the door open. He had accomplished nothing yet though. Speechlessly he entered the room, shutting the door behind him. He tried to make as little noise as possible but the door shut with a creaking and a clang. Still holding the tray, he glanced up.
No extra light entered the room. The shutters were shut and thick drapes covered that. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust before he took a few more steps into the murky center of the room. There was no sound, and he approached the bed, the golden tray still weighing in his hands. As he did so he heard a faint noise. It was nothing but a tsk, but he knew what it meant.
Hephaestion froze, unsure of what to do next. There was no further noise though, no screaming as there had been before today, just silence. He turned and quickly set the platter down on a table. A scroll was rolled out and he carefully pulled it out from under the tray and rolled it. He then tossed it back into a cubby from which many scrolls hung out, the cubby and its contents in disarray. He then turned back, his cerulean eyes scanning the dark room, yet he did not know what he expected to find.
"Alexander," he said softly as he approached the bed. He had managed to take three steps, bringing him three steps closer to his goal, but he was still so far away. He saw a hand then, and froze once more. Upsetting him further would do nothing. It would only bring out his rage once more.
"Go," Alexander said rabidly. Hephaestion could see only his eyes in the dark, a faint light had found a way onto the bed and lingered there. They were red from crying but at the same time were full of a rage Hephaestion knew he could not compete with. Hephaestion did not move though, hoping Alexander would take back his words. He did no such thing though. Instead he screamed the same word once more.
Hephaestion did as he was asked. He knew not what else to do. He left the room far quicker than he had entered. As soon as he was out of the room he rested his back against the door and closed his eyes, breathing out a deep sigh. As he did he heard footsteps coming and opened his eyes instantaneously. Soon Cassander stepped into the light. His eyes met with Hephaestion's and he asked with his eyes if Hephaestion had been triumphant. Hephaestion gave a saddened shake of his head.
Many had come to try and speak to him but he wanted to speak to no one. The whole ordeal had pushed him into the room it seemed and locked him in, throwing away the key. At first no one had worried when he missed dinner for a night. Many missed dinner that night. The only one truly happy had been Olympias, who smiled like a predator the entire time, unafraid to show that she certainty did not miss Philip. When Alexander did not leave his room the next day, and Hephaestion had tried to go to him and was refused, everyone began to wonder. After his outrage at noon of the second day there was no question about it. Alexander had temporarily lost his mind.
He would speak to no one. Most that entered had something thrown at them, furious words and yells only if they were lucky. Olympias had gone to him first but he managed to even throw her out of the room, locking the door behind her. He'd unlocked it later though but it was known by then that no one was to enter. Cassander had tried, Ptolemy, Antipiter, Cleitus, Parmenion, they had all tried. They were the unluckiest of them all. Hephaestion had then been told to try, and at first he did not want to. He thought it fine for Alexander to take time to grieve. But starving himself was not an answer and he quickly grew worried and entered the room that night.
Hephaestion had more success than the others did. He managed to get a few words in before Alexander began to scream at him to leave him alone. Just the words had crushed Alexander, but he couldn't deny him anything and left, fulfilling his request. He tried once more later but Alexander just screamed at him more, and had even thrown a pillow at him. It was a pillow, yes, but it was the thought of it that hurt Hephaestion. Cassander had decided to look at the good, laughing, and told him only to be thankful it was not a golden vase.
"Did he throw a fit," Cassander asked. He didn't even do it to be rude. Part of him was concerned for Alexander's welfare as well. He cared about him enough to know that he needed to be comforted.
"He is getting better," Hephaestion replied softly. He wanted so badly to be able to speak with Alexander. He had missed him in the last four days. It was hard, having him right before him, but not being able to tell him anything. It seemed that two years ago they were so close together for a week, but then had begun to spread apart, and now they were just acquaintances. He wanted to help him but feared at the same time that he did not know how.
Cassander saw the suffering and discomfort in Hephaestion's eyes. He'd been watching him slowly burn out for the last two years. No one else seemed to notice. Hephaestion had a wonderful way of pretending and holding his head high when really he should have been on the floor crying. He looked away from him for a moment, sometimes it was hard for even him to see, but he then looked back at him. Its not you, he wanted to tell Hephaestion.
He still loves you as he did in Chaeronea, he whispered in his mind. Getting the actual words out would be harder. He didn't care that much, or at least like to pretend he didn't. Yet he cared for Hephaestion, even though he did hate him, making the relationship only he knew about very odd indeed. Love him, hate him, don't tell him, just hate him. That was how Cassander had chosen to deal with his feelings. It generally worked too, but at the moment he felt his features softening, and he turned to Hephaestion.
"What happened," Cassander asked quietly when Hephaestion turned his eyes to meet his gaze. Cassander crossed his arms, rather uncomfortable with being stared at by such a beauty, and rather uncomfortable with the subject he was bringing up. "When we got back to Pella two years ago, what happened?"
"Many things happened," Hephaestion said, glancing away. Cassander saw the way that his lower lip began to tremble though. This was it, two years of pain, and he was about to be the one to receive it. Cassander silently stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Hephaestion in a hug. Hephaestion tried to be still but before he could stop himself wrapped his arms around Cassander and let tears fall from his eyes as if he were going to single handedly water all of Macedonia's farmland and fill the streams.
Cassander held him, putting a hand on his back and lightly rubbing him. He knew not how to comfort him any way. He just let Hephaestion cry, knowing that no other would stumble upon them. After a few moments Hephaestion's tears lessened and he stopped shaking like a leaf. Cassander had to remind himself a few times within this period that he hated him.
"I'm sorry," Hephaestion said, suddenly pulling away and wiping his face with his hands. It was easy to see how frayed and worn out at the ends he was though. It was not only in the way he acted. It was in the paleness of his face, and his eyes that had begun to always seem tired no matter how long he slept for, among a few other things. Hephaestion wiped the tears away from his face once more, and Cassander reached out and pulled a strand of hair away from his face. He then silently brushed the eyelash off of his cheek.
"Don't ever do it again," he said then, his mood drastically changing. Cassander then walked briskly away, his jaw hardened, his attitude back to the regular uncaring general. He left Hephaestion, not caring what he thought really. It didn't matter what he thought of him, he was still Alexander's, whether he liked it or not.
000
Alexander pressed his forehead against the door. It was hard to hear anything through them. He remembered being a child, trying to listen to the conversations of other's, but never being able to hear the words clearly. Everything was inaudible. Everything, with the exception of tears, which he knew very well from years of spying on his mother. He put a hand on the door and just listened for a moment.
Oh Phae, what have I done, he thought as he listened to Hephaestion cry. He knew there was another out there with him, but not who. He knew only that it was not him and that was enough. 'Many things happened', he heard again in his head. He wanted to scream. Hephaestion, no, I never stopped wanting you. You think I have, I hear it, but I didn't. I'm afraid Phae –so afraid to love you. It's not even you, its them, they taught me to be like this. Hephaestion don't leave. I didn't mean it, I don't want you to go, I never have.
He heard the other leave. Heard Hephaestion wait a moment before retreating the opposite way. What had he done to him in the past years that could hurt him so badly? Then the answer slapped him in the face. Nothing, he had done nothing. He had not told him that he loved him as he did before, had not touched him, had not done much more than look at him. But even a look meant nothing if he then went to bed alone without so much as a tender word to Hephaestion.
Damn them all, his mother, his father! What did they know about love? Why had he ever been foolish enough to listen to them? It was foolish, trying to shove Hephaestion away. He couldn't build that façade around his heart that his mother wanted to. He couldn't be cruel like his father. Lonely nights had haunted him, but he couldn't tell Hephaestion, couldn't tell him all that he wanted.
He knew at first that Hephaestion had been saddened, it was easy to see in his blue eyes. They held all of his emotions, those eyes, and Alexander knew every one of them. Sad at first, yes, but then he seemed to be fine. He would look at him longingly every now and then, as Alexander looked at him, but he would then avert his eyes. Alexander thought he had moved on. It was foolish though, to think such. How could he have been such a fool?
Alexander drew in a breath, blinded by his tears, haunted by his rage. He stood from his crouched position on the floor and pulled the door open. He ran out, looking in both directions for Hephaestion, but saw no one. He knew why. He had told them to stay away. He had banished them from his hurt, from his loss, but it was all of Macedonia's loss. Philip had been a king to all but only a father to him. Only one man concerned him at the moment though, Hephaestion, whom he had irrationally exiled from his heart and life long ago.
He ran down the hall, bare chested, covered only with a pair of dark brown sleeping pants. It didn't matter though, his appearance, at the moment. He rushed down the hall, checking each smaller side hall, looking for any sign of him. At last he came to the end of the hall and ran out into the light of the sun. It blinded him at first and he had to put a hand to his eyes to shield himself. He never stopped running though. How far could he have gotten?
He saw him then, just his back, but knew it could be no other. The sun struck his dark hair, illuminating every strand of hair. Alexander called out to him, called out his name as he ran. Hephaestion stopped then, turned around, and braced himself as Alexander slammed against him. He hugged him so tight that Hephaestion found it for a moment hard to breathe.
Alexander didn't care though. He just held him tightly, so tight he knew he was crushing him, but he had him now. He was no others. They were one and he needed him. He needed to have his love, for without it he was nothing, the past days had made him realize it. Tears streamed down his face as he pulled away, and taking both of his hands and putting them to Hephaestion's cheeks, he kissed Hephaestion's forehead. He kissed his forehead, his nose, his eyes, his cheeks, his lips. He kissed at him wildly, as if he had been struck with fever and knew not his actions. But he did know what he did and regretted not doing it sooner, not doing it now.
"Alexander," Hephaestion said as he wrapped his arms around Alexander. He held him too. He was back, Hephaestion didn't know for how long, but he knew the Alexander he loved was with him at this moment. He couldn't let him go. He wouldn't let him go. They could not be torn apart again as they had been.
"I love you," Alexander said as he held him, crying and grabbing a handful of Hephaestion's hair. He cried, unabashed, and spoke words he'd been longing to say for two years. "I've always loved you my Patroclaus, and I shall never stop loving you. If I am the sun you are my stars. We are one, and I couldn't leave you, even though I tried to. Phae I didn't want to space myself from you, they told me to, and for a moment I believed them. I thought she was protecting me, but she wasn't. I know that now Hephaestion, and I won't let it happen again. I love you, love you so much, please don't be angry with me. Let me love you, love you like I did, because I never stopped doing so."
"I know," Hephaestion replied, glad to hear the words, even though he'd known it all along. It was not hard to see when it had started. It was easy to see the glares Olympias suddenly cast at him. They'd remained friends, but Alexander had even altered that friendship, making sure not to confide too much in him anymore. He kept a distance from him when others were around and when they were almost alone someone would come and take him away before the words could be said. It was easy to see, but now things were clear. "I love you too Alexander. I will always love you, always."
000
"Ridiculous," Olympias said as she filed her nails, as Alexander screamed at her. He asked if she had anything to do with Philip's death. Did he see her with a blade? Did she look so much like Pausanias? Alexander slammed a hand down in front of her, waiting for her to say more it seemed.
"You lie," he accused.
"Alexander," she said in her most motherly voice, which was also at times her predatory voice, as it was now. "I think it is best that you stop worrying about your father. Philip is dead now. I don't think you are helping his situation by screaming at me as if I am a servant."
"You wanted him dead."
"Yes," she said, looking up at him with her green eyes. She gazed at him intently as her lips parted and she said in her most barbaric voice her next words. "Do you mean to say you never wished him so?"
"Only when you told me to want it so! But I never hated him the way you do. You wanted him dead, mother," he said the word as if it were a disease. "You have your ways about you. Killing those that you fear, just like you killed that child and his mother!"
"Oh, the new whore? Terrible accident Alexander and the child had trouble breathing. You saw it too, don't lie to yourself. The gods took that child, not I, even though it did make me rather joyous. It is because of their deaths that you have Macedonia in you grasp now."
"You killed them all," Alexander said as he turned, pacing back toward the door, before he came back. Olympias thought this was a game. She just manicuring her nails, which were already fine. He lunged forward and flipped the table in front of her, the contents flying into the air, and the table fell over. Olympias sat back in her chair but did nothing more.
"Feel better?"
"Why do you have to ruin everything? Why couldn't you let me be happy?"
"Are we on another subject," she asked coldly.
"Why did you turn me against Hephaestion? You liked him, you never said you didn't. It was only after Chaeronea that you hated him, and you tricked me into doing the same. You used a mother's love, and you used mine, and you turned it against me. Why did you do it!"
"I still like him," she agreed, "just not in your bed. Not constantly by your side. Not hanging on your every word. I like him fine, as he is now."
"It wasn't your concern!"
"Wasn't it? Do you think that I would let him take you from me? Do you think that I could sit by and watch him slowly turn against you as all of them will? That is what they will do Alexander. They begin to do it even now. They all want your crown, your kingdom, and you would have given it to Hephaestion had it been yours two years ago!"
"That's the thing about Hephaestion," he fired back at her in an icy tone, even though he was red with anger. "He would never have asked for it."
"You know nothing of the hearts of men Alexander. You haven't been alive long enough to see how they change. They are like snakes, those closest to you. They are just waiting to strike."
"Not Hephaestion."
"No," she screamed, finally breaking. She stood and put her hand to Alexander's cheek. "Hephaestion is not a snake. He is worse though Alexander, because you love him. Your love for him blinds you. I heard what happened in Chaeronea."
"What are you talking about?"
"He was the one that you went to find Alexander. You gave no concern to yourself. You cared for only him, running around on a field that still had living Thebans, just to find him. Risking your life for his. Foolish!"
"Check your slithering serpents tongues mother, because you don't know of what you speak."
"Don't I? You would have made love to him there had he not been injured. Instead you waited until you were back in Pella to do so. Yes, I knew, I saw that look in your eye. You loved him, as I loved Philip once, but look where it led me."
"You loved him," Alexander asked, taken aback by her confession.
"I never stopped."
"Hephaestion is mine," Alexander said finally, putting his foot down. He would take no more of her lies. He would not let her control him. From now on he would make his own decisions. He was tired of being a pawn. "I love him, and I won't stop loving him. If you so much as look at him wrong, so help me, I'll kill you like father vowed to."
"You wouldn't," she hissed.
"Believe me," he threatened. "Father used me to play his games as you did yours. I learned from him as well as you. Watch what you do Olympias, for right now, I am not your son."
"How can you say that? Philip never wanted you. I wanted you! You are my son and I will not see you throw away your life on Hephaestion Amyntor, who is no better than the son of a common Persian whore!"
Alexander backhanded her. He froze after doing so, his hand still in the air. Olympias turned her head, her eyes burning his. He then turned, without saying another word, and left the room. He had bigger problems compared to her. Already Parmenion had told him of the revolts beginning in Thrace, Illyria, and Thebes. He had enough to worry about and he didn't need her insults or her trickery. Maybe his father had been right, maybe she was a sorceress. He found himself regretting thinking so though. She was his mother, and Zeus how he hated her. It didn't matter though, today had already been too chaotic, but he had Hephaestion. That was all that mattered. As he left Olympias' chambers Hephaestion turned from where he looked out a balcony, and then came to Alexander's side. Together they walked down the hall, one a king, but the other very much the same thing.