The Persian Campaign Chapter 1: After the Siege, an alexander fanfic

Title: "The Persian Campaign"

Author: Baliansword

Chapter: 1, "After the Siege"

A/N: I've been inspired to write a sequel to 'The First Campaign', and it was suggested. So here it goes. This starting chapter is taking place just after Alexander and his army have entered Babylon. If we are going by the movie it takes place just after Alexander's forces have entered Darius' harem of women, some have stayed there, and others have left. Enjoy and please review!

The general stood upright in a rigid posture, his arms crossed, but even though he was supposed to look menacing he didn't. Those soft blue eyes would never be fearful in appearance. Neither would his softened face and his simple smile. He might not even be meaning to, but his lips curved softly, and it made him look pleased to be in such a place. He looked around once more before the king put a hand on his shoulder and they started for another corridor.

So that man was also Alexander. It was not hard to see that they shared a bond as they walked away. The Macedonian men seemed to note it with averted eyes as they continued feasting on the luxuries before them. There was but one man that looked up as they left, watched closely as Alexander and the darker haired one left. There was a struggle in his eyes, his emotions fighting one another. He wanted first to be angry, then to be glad, and then even envious.

This man was unknown to the Persian as well. But from looking at him he knew he was also one of Alexander's the Great's generals. However he could also see that he lacked the beauty of the man Alexander had left with. This was not to say that he was ugly, but his beauty was more of a man's beauty. His eyes were dark, and not as soft, and they held not as much of his soul. His face was thinner, stronger, but not as heavenly to look at. His hair was a lighter brown, not as well cared for, and lacked the same shine. Yet he was still a beauty to behold compared to all that surrounded him.

Bagoas watched him as he laughed to one of his companions that was holding one of Darius' concubines to him. She sat on his leg, kissing at his neck and face disgracefully. Bagoas had never loved Darius and he had never been that fond of him as a lover. Yet as a leader he had respected him and until his king was dead he would still be his king. He'd not participate in such foolishness as the women around him did. It was his job to watch them when Darius was not around but he knew that if he told his king he could not control them, the king would understand. Understanding would lead to another night of warming the king's bed, which he never had been fond of, but it would matter not if he kept his life. Had Darius been here now he knew he might be the only one to leave this room alive again.

But where had the golden haired king of Macedonia gone to with his friend? Bagoas looked around but knew not where they had gone. Yet it was clear to see that this other one, who did not react to the kisses of a concubine, wanted to know as well. Bagoas wondered what odd relationship these three had. Did Alexander have his generals warm his bed with the lack of eunuchs? It was something that he would have to research, for he wanted to know. But for now he turned and left the room, trying to be noticed by no one.

Hephaestion entered the room, taking everything in as he did so. The room could have held the entire left legion if it were necessary. Alexander didn't seem to notice Hephaestion's pause, and just went to the bed, where he fell down on his back. The king looked up at the ceiling, marveling at the swinging vision of Darius. It was a beautiful image but he had to laugh, for Darius was no longer the king of Persia, he was.

Alexander then got up from the bed and went to a door. He opened it and walked into the small closet that was hidden in the corner of the room. It was grand, but it was not Darius' entire wardrobe. This was merely a small fraction of the riches he kept here. Alexander stepped inside and reached for a silken Persian robe. He pulled it down and looked at it for a moment.

The colors were richer than any Alexander had seen in his journeys. This robe alone was a dark red for base, but golden details and dark blue images set the robe apart from the rest. Alexander left the room, the robe draped over his arm, and stopped when he saw Hephaestion. The general still looked around the room, taking it all in no doubt. He wasn't interested in the gold, nor the glory, but whether or not there would be a way for intruders to enter.

When had he become so protective? Alexander wondered, thinking he'd been far less concerned when they were children. Somewhere along the way he'd become concerned with wines and lighting the camp at night, but now everything in this new world was something for him to ponder, to decide if it were safe or not. Alexander smiled and let a small laugh escape him before he could hold it back. This caused Hephaestion to turn his eyes upon him.

"You worry too much," Alexander said as he came closer to him. Hephaestion only smiled softly as Alexander reached out and ran a hand over his cheek. He then pulled a lock of his brown hair away from his face, and then left it behind his shoulder so that his neck was visible.

"Perhaps you worry too little," Hephaestion replied as Alexander closed the rest of the space between them. Before more words could be spoken Alexander put his lips to Hephaestion's and kissed him lightly. Behind closed doors he was unafraid to show love and to be loved. When the kiss broke, for it was only a short one, Alexander stepped away.

"I need a bath," he said. He had already turned and was on his way to find the bathing room, which was conveniently just beside the king's rooms. There was even a passage that led from the bedroom to it. Since he'd already turn he did not see Hephaestion's smile fade while he looked away.

Hephaestion left the room quietly and Alexander knew nothing of his absence before he had turned back. Alexander had noticed he'd not followed him but did not know that he'd been the cause of his leaving. Sighing he turned back and went to find a way to fill the bath. It did not take him but a moment to find the help he needed. As he opened the door to the room there was Stateira, the princess he'd just agreed to let remain that, and in the palace. Her chaperone was also with her, but behind them was a younger boy that Alexander had not seen before.

"Great King," Stateira spoke, her eyes not leveling with Alexander's. "As gratitude for you kindness, I would like to gift unto you this slave."

She stepped back and before Alexander could say a word she walked away with her chaperone. Alexander watched her go but then turned his eyes to the Persian in front of him. After a moment he recognized those dark eyes, and that sculpted face, which was better looking than all of Darius' concubines combined. He'd been amongst those women, which would make him too a courtesan. Alexander turned and reentered the room and the boy followed. He could be no more than what, eighteen?

"What is your name," Alexander asked, turning once they'd reached the center of the room. The boy stopped as well. He kept his eyes on the floor like slaves were trained to do, but Alexander could see that was not what he was. He was too graceful, he'd heard him walk, and there was nothing that was beaten or broken about him. He'd been something more to Darius, not just a boy to fill his bed when he was tired of the women he kept.

"Bagoas," was the soft reply that came from his lips. Alexander found himself looking him over once again. He was built to be thin, tall, and graceful. It was easy to see that if the proper breeding had not done such he'd been trained to be such things all his life. Alexander reached out suddenly, sick of those that would not look at him, and lifted the Persian's chin. Eyes darker than even his own met with his.

"What are you Bagoas?"

"Yours."

Alexander sighed. That was not what he had meant but this boy knew what to say to please a master. It was not the thought of slaves that annoyed Alexander for he'd grown up with them his entire life. There was something else he hated above that. He hated that none would speak their mind to him, except for Hephaestion, who would only do so if it were asked of him. Alexander could not even get him mad enough to yell at him.

"Make me a bath," Alexander said weakly as he turned away from Bagoas. The Persian stared at him, he could sense it, before he left and went to make the bath Alexander has asked for. He sat down on the edge of his new bed for a moment and wondered where Hephaestion had gone. Before he knew it the Persian had come back though, telling him his bath was ready.

Not meant for him. That was what he thought when he saw Hephaestion in the stables. There were a great many horses here, some Persian, some Arabian, but most were now those that belonged to Alexander and his army. Hephaestion did not need to be here amongst the animals though. He deserved to be far away from Persia even. It would have been better had he never met Alexander. But he was in Persia, following Alexander's dream, and he was in the stable brushing a horse.

Cassander picked up a brush and went to join him. He approached quietly but already the other was aware of his presence. Perhaps he was not the best in a battle, because he'd protect Alexander and everyone but himself, but Cassander had to admit that he had the ears of a fox. Cassander stood on the other side of the horse and began brushing at the neck. Hephaestion only threw him a confused glare before continuing with his side.

"Fight," Cassander asked after a moment. He still could not figure out why he cared about Hephaestion. He had to remind himself that he didn't like him. He hated him even. But he wanted to shield him from Alexander's pains. For as brilliant as he was on a battlefield, Alexander knew nothing of how to treat the ones around you, especially the one that you loved.

"No, but don't ask for any favors," Hephaestion said bitterly. Cassander raised a brow. So there had been no fight but there had clearly been some upsetting factor between the two. Another one of Alexander's careless actions no doubt. Perhaps Hephaestion knew that Alexander had excepted that Persian eunuch that had been offered to him. But if he didn't Cassander wasn't going to tell him, but hoped to be near when he did find out.

"I wasn't here to."

"What were you here to do," Hephaestion asked as he tossed the horse brush aside and began to retreat. Cassander rolled his eyes, tossed his brush as well, and then followed Hephaestion out of the stable.

"I actually wanted to kill you," he said bitterly, but it forced Hephaestion to stop, and spin around even to face him. It struck a nerve, for he was angry. But Cassander wasn't going to stop now. "Yes, stab you in the back, or maybe the side. I wasn't sure. Figured that I would decide once I surprised you from behind."

"Cassander, leave me alone."

"Fine," Cassander said as Hephaestion began to leave. "I wasn't here to kill you. Alexander has many looking for you, only problem is, they didn't know where to look. There are about ten Persians scattered around looking for you."

"You swear it?"

Cassander shrugged and reached to his side. He then pulled a dagger from his side. It had been lying around in the palace and no one seemed to know whom it belonged to. That meant that it belonged to him. Cassander tossed it to Hephaestion, who even caught it with a single hand.

"You can kill me," Cassander told him with the seriousness of a general and the playfulness of a child at the same time. Hephaestion glanced at the blade. His lips then turned up in a smile. He shook his head and tossed the blade back. Cassander caught it with a smile.

"Not worth the trouble," Hephaestion said as he turned and made his way back to the palace. Cassander watched him, the smile still on his face as he replaced the dagger at his waist. He then laughed quietly to himself.

"You're right," he said even though Hephaestion could no longer hear him. He glanced up and was still able to see Hephaestion's back as he grew smaller and smaller in the distance. "Killing me wouldn't kill your pain."