The Crowning of Alexander Chapter 1: Eurydice, an alexander fanfic

Title: "The Crowning of Alexander"

Author: Baliansword

Chapter: 1, "Eurydice"

A/N: My muse has visited again. Through history, many people believe that Olympias had something to do with Philip's assassination, directly or perhaps indirectly. In this fiction, I shall say that she helped plan it. This story will detail how she aligned things so that Alexander would become the King of Macedonia. It is mainly going to be told through the views of Olympias and Hephaestion, because my muse finds it more interesting that way (so angstman you should be pleased at least somewhat, because Hephaestion will be a focal). So I hope that you begin to enjoy this story, and please review if you have time. Again I thank all of my returning readers that have read my other work. Without your support, who knows, I may not be writing at all.

Arms crossed she stared out at the world surrounding her. It no longer held the same glimmering light that she'd seen as a child before coming to Macedonia. Now, there was nothing left that held a fascination in the lands to her. The sky no longer seemed blue and the earth no longer seemed verdant in the springs and summers that passed her by. Still, there was something that held her back, kept her sane. She was waiting for her son to take the thrown, and when he did, she would be taken out of this exile. Again she would be able to rule, helping her son, and she would be able to once again leave the palace. For now she was never let out of sight. Even now she knew that guards watched her, or servants did, or even her own slaves. For some time now even her favorite ladies in waiting had lost their dignity and had decided to side with Philip, spying on her for him.

It still interested her that already Attalus had found a way to get his clutches around the crown that he yearned so badly for so quickly. She narrowed her eyes when she saw Eurydice walking away with Philip. Olympias stared at them, her eyes like those of her snakes. She was not afraid to strike, but like serpents, knew to wait for a perfect time. As she stared out at Eurydice, belly growing larger already, she heard the doors to her room open. Without turning she knew that Alexander had come to see her. Her son always got around to coming to see her, whether or not she sent for him. Sending for him was getting harder and harder though. Philip was slowly pulling Alexander away from her as he'd taken everything else, slowly sucking the life out of it. Yet, even if Philip was no involved, then Olympias knew that Alexander would still see her little. He was growing up, and he now had friends that took much of his time, as did his studies.

"Mother," he said as he came to her side and pressed a light kiss to her cheek. She only continued to stare at Eurydice. There was nothing special about the girl. She held no beauty that Olympias did not, and there was no brain in her head that would amount to anything. With a smirk she thought that perhaps the lack of a brain was what made her voice so high pitched. Alexander glanced out and saw Eurydice as well. Sighing, he shook his head, and turned away and instead of looking out faced his mother.

Olympias wore the true robes of a Macedonian woman. The light material was a pure white, attached at only one shoulder leaving the other bare, and against the white was gold. She was beautiful, with captivating eyes, and dark hair that fell in ringlets to her back. As long as she didn't open her mouth, she was a beauty to look at. It was her dark heart that took all of this away though. Yet even knowing all of this Alexander still loved her and knew that her bitterness towards Philip was only for the treatment she'd received from him for so many years. It was credible bitterness, that she had reason for, so Alexander tried not to fault her.

"She carries your replacement," Olympias hissed without saying anything remotely resembling a welcome to Alexander. Finally Eurydice was out of view and Olympias' eyes turned to her son. She took a step forward and kissed his forehead, him bending slightly to give it to her as he always did. It was the closest thing to a welcome he'd had in weeks and he accepted it. Olympias looked at him, and she smiled. He was the only thing in the world that she smiled at anymore. He had grown to be very handsome, as she'd known he would be. He was tall, with blond locks, and dark brown eyes. Alexander was lightly tanned from his training in the Macedonian sun, and he was well muscled from the same training. There was nothing that was not aristocratic about him. Alexander looked as if he should be a king and he held that same aura about him.

"What have you been doing," Olympias asked as she motioned for him to sit. He took a chair and she sat across from him. He picked up a goblet of wine that sat on the table and drank from it. As he did this Olympias reached out and took the dark red-brown serpent from the table and put it into the basket sitting on the next closest chair. Alexander then put the goblet down and looked at her. Already there was a story glinting in those dark eyes.

"Learning to battle with your foe on the ground," he answered. Olympias swore that he said the same thing every time she asked. Yet Alexander was used to this kind of thought and immediately elaborated before giving her the chance to ask. "I was learning to be the man on the ground, and rival a man on a horse. They have a better vantage, those on mounts."

"Well, how are you fairing?"

He shrugged, as if it were nothing at all. It was confidence, she knew, and she loved that he had it. This was another stately thing about him. He feared not to admit to others that he was better than they were. Some would consider it to be arrogant, but Olympias had raised him to admit his individuality that towered over others. Never had he outwardly questioned it. He just grew into the role. It would make him strong, she knew, and so she did not mind Philip telling her that she was teaching him her sorceress ways.

"I can never be sure," he admitted. Olympias knew that she had heard this before. But glad to hear his voice she listened. "Cassander managed to scrape my leg once, but I still think that he holds back. I think they all hold back."

"And Hephaestion," she asked with a raised eyebrow. She had known long ago that there was an attraction building between the two. At first she had worried. Yet she had come to see that Hephaestion was good for Alexander. He was a lovely boy, beautiful, but wise at the same time. He was also a friend that would always be loyal to Alexander and for that she could not help but feel that it was meant to be and she could not break the pair up. It had entered her mind, but now, she knew that Hephaestion would never harm Alexander. He in fact kept him together for the most part, when he grew his angriest. Hephaestion had come to grow on her.

"Hephaestion," Alexander responded with a smile," is the same as always. He does not see why he cannot attack me as an enemy would. I still have not beaten him wrestling though. Eighteen now, and I still cannot beat him. I've been trying for half of my years now. Perhaps I will never beat him, but I keep thinking that some day I shall grow stronger, or he'll be weakened by some slight cold and I will win for once."

"He makes you happy," she stated, "because he is not afraid to treat you as Alexander."

"But Cassander despises him for it. I think the only one that tries to stand him is Ptolemy. The rest, they still look at him as they did when he came back from Athens. I wonder if they will ever befriend him."

"They have in their own way."

"What about you," he said, taking another drink. "What has my mother been doing when I am gone, unable to keep her company?"

If he had not asked she would never have replied. Instead she let her lips turn up at the corners in a smirk. She leaned forward and took his hand. She turned it over and ran a nail over the lines of his palm. Already she had prepared something to tell him. But it had slipped from her mind, and she began as she would if he were a child. Her voice was soft, but her words were sharpened.

"What do you think of Cletaria," she asked. Before Alexander could speak she continued. He did manage to suck in a deep breath though and look away from her. He pulled his hand away but out of respect for her he did not get up and leave. She had, after all, carried him in her womb for nine months. "She is a beautiful girl. You remember her, you saw her in Mieza. Cletaria comes from a good family and would make a suitable wife. Why will you not consider it Alexander?"

"Because," he said, still shaking his head as he answered. "I do not need to take a wife that I don't know. I have no desire for Cletaria, last I saw her she was a child mother. How am I to know who she is?"

"You do not need to know," Olympias let out. "All you need to know is that Philip is taking Eurydice as his wife. She is carrying his son, Alexander. That son will be your replacement. That whining infant will immediately be named Philip's successor, and where will that leave you?"

"The child is not even born yet."

"No, but it will be. Philip will send you away, either by exile, or he will send you to some far off barbaric land for them to kill you. Would you like that Alexander, to be killed by Illyrians?"

"I am his heir."

"For now," she said, eyebrow raised again. "Are you so naïve, my Achilles, to think that your father will not betray you?"

"I'm his son."

"But you are mine as well. Because of this he will wish you dead when he had another heir." She said standing, and going to him. She put a hand on his cheek and bid him look at her. She met his eyes, and she spoke honestly to him. He was angry with her, but she only wanted to protect him. She knew better than anyone did what Philip would do to Alexander when Eurydice's child was born. "I worry for only you Alexander. Philip never wanted you, but I did, and Zeus gave you to me. He said only to protect you and that is what I am doing. Eurydice's son will be your death Alexander, as soon as he takes his first breath. You must marry and produce your own son. Then, having an heir, Philip will have to keep you as the prince to inherit the throne. If you do not, you will be killed in some far off country alone, and I will be put to death."

"Wouldn't we make a pair," he asked as he pulled away from her. He shook his head, face reddening. "You stay out of this mother. My father loves me, and I am his heir. Just because he tossed you away does not mean he'll do the same to me."

"But you are me! Everything that you are comes from my blood Alexander, from my womb, my heart, and my soul. Philip cares nothing for you. You are stronger though, and you must align yourself so that you will be the next king. Otherwise, we both fail the gods, and we will be put to our deaths."

"Just let me have some peace will you," he screamed, asking of her the only thing that she had never given him. "Stop trying to tangle your lies in him mind. Just let me alone!"

Alexander turned and fled from the room. Olympias watched him go. He was a defeated boy, not yet a man. Her son knew that she spoke the words of truth. This could be what scared him, but he knew that it was true long before she told him. Deep down he would always know. Philip wanted him to be his mirror, but Olympias had never allowed Alexander to be such. Her goal for her son was to be better than his father. Someday, if they could get past this Eurydice affair, she knew that he would be.

Again she went to the threshold of the balcony and looked out. She wondered if Alexander still planned to go to the feast tonight. Philip and Attalus were celebrating the news of marriage. Philip, because he'd found a young girl to bed and impregnate, was proud that he'd done so and thought it a festival in the making. Attalus on the other hand was tearing his talons into the flesh, trying to get to that throne any way that he could. She knew his type. She had been raised by the same kind of man. Yet her father had luckily been killed before doing too much damage.

Alexander had been invited, as had many of his friends. Yesterday he had stated that he would go, and Olympias had laughed at him inwardly. He was a fool to desire from Philip what the man would never give him. Philip would never love him, respect him, or acknowledge him as his heir. It was such a waste of Alexander's efforts. Sighing, she knew that he would still go, no matter how much courage it would take him to face Attalus. Long ago as a child Alexander had met Attalus and had never liked him from their first meeting. Even long ago Attalus had spoken ill of Olympias and Alexander had known not to trust him.

For some time she stared out at nothing but the courtyard. She saw servants and pages running around every now and then. But for the most part she saw nothing. After some time she saw a face that she recognized and smiled. Her heart was even glad to see him. The boy was a year younger than Alexander, fairer, but stronger mentally and at the moment physically. His long dark hair contrasted against his paler skin, not even as tanned as Alexander's, even though he'd been in the same sun for the same length of time. The boy, no –he was more of a man now she had to admit, had the bluest eyes she had ever seen. They were the color of the Mediterranean Sea and shone like the brightest stars. The muscles that rippled through his body were strong, even if some were well hidden until needed. Olympias watched as the young man met Alexander in the center of the courtyard.

A slight smile crept to her lips when the blue eyed one glanced up and spotted her. He looked away, pretending that he'd not seen her. But she watched as he stiffened his back slightly as he walked away with Alexander. Such a remarkable pair they would make. Alexander was the would-be conqueror, and Hephaestion was the support. Interesting that these two had met so young, and now were in complete love with one another, when she'd never found one to love apart from Alexander. But she was drawn from her thoughts when there was a knock at the door and in the instant that she glanced over her shoulder she lost sight of the pair she'd been watching. For when she looked back to the courtyard they had slipped away together.

"Olympias," a guard said as he entered the room. She recognized his voice and turned, arms still crossed, and faced him. He bowed his head slightly, afraid of this sorceress, and then continued with his message. "A letter was just brought to the palace. It was sealed and is for you."

"Thank you," she said as she reached out and took the folded parchment. The guard left the room hurriedly and Olympias went to the bed. She sat down and tore the red wax seal open. It was a struggle at times to read the black ink sprawled across the parchment in to particular fashion that gave the letter structure. Yet today things were much better and she managed to read through everything with a smile. Tearing the correspondence to pieces when she was done she then took it to a candle and lit the torn edges. After doing so she tossed the burning parchment out into the courtyard where the wind and sand extinguished it. Today, she had decided, was not so terrible after all.

Hephaestion listened as Alexander continued to curse about what his mother thought of Eurydice. He was able to get no words in but that was for the better. It was easy to know the ways of Philip, even if you weren't from his lands, but if you lived in the palace it was even easier to know things. One fact that Hephaestion knew was that Philip did not have any problems with killing those that did not have a purpose for him. Olympias, at the moment, was the biggest target for the king's rage. Yet Hephaestion knew that if Eurydice's son were named heir, which was likely beyond all belief, then Alexander too would be unneeded to Philip. Perhaps the things that Olympias had said were true, no for he knew they were, and should have been taken far more seriously by Alexander. After a long while of walking, his arm around Alexander's back, the prince managed to take in a breath of air and halt his speech.

"The woman is wronged but insane to think that Eurydice's unborn son is a problem. My father loves me. Surely you don't doubt that do you Hephaestion," Alexander finally asked. In the last sentence his voice had faltered. He was beginning to question things himself. Hephaestion sighed and then tried to avert his eyes before Alexander saw that behind them he hid from him the fear that he too shared with Olympias.

"I believe," Hephaestion said after a lengthy pause, "that you are the rightful heir to the throne."

"But that isn't what I asked," Alexander baited. He had now stopped in front of the amphitheater steps and was looking to Hephaestion. It had always been known to him that his friend had his best interests at heart. But at times this interest would keep Hephaestion from being completely honest with him. He would allude to things but never fully answer at times, for the answer would either hurt or offend Alexander. Yet even when his answers hurt, or offended, Alexander still listened to what Hephaestion had to say. This was one of those times that he had no choice but to stare at Hephaestion until he finally looked away again, jaw tightening for a moment, eyes averted. Hephaestion stared at some random object off in the distance and answered very slowly, carefully even, as if he were walking on eggshells to save his life.

"I believe that your father loves you. Yet, at times, I think he loves you for the wrong reasons. At others I believe that he does not love you at all." Hephaestion glanced over at Alexander. With his eyes he was showing an apology and was about to voice it. He drew in a slight breath and then his lips parted. He did it in such a fashion that every time Alexander saw him do so he wanted him to do it again, for it drove him wild. "That is not to say that he does, or does not, love you. I just meant that love fluctuates. It changes day by day. Does that make sense?"

"Yes," Alexander said, stepping closer and filling much of the space between them. He then pressed a soft kiss to Hephaestion's lips. It was quick, for he knew that in public their affairs had to be kept secretive. Yet later he planned to kiss him far more than this, tonight, after the feast his father was having. Hephaestion blushed slightly as Alexander withdrew his lips. "My love for you never changes though. You are my Patroclaus."

"And you are my Achilles," Hephaestion replied playfully. Since childhood they had been calling each other after these wonderful Greeks from the Trojan War. The Iliad was Alexander's favorite book, and he kept a copy of it under his pillow no matter where he went. It was exiting at times, to pretend to be like such warriors. Not even Hephaestion could deny that Alexander was just like Achilles, and he supposed that for the most part he was just like Patroclaus. "But that doesn't mean that you won't be prepared for the feast if you don't hurry back to your rooms."

"I'm the prince," Alexander told him as they began to walk again, finding the shade from the sun under a grand hall. "There is no need for me to be there early, or late. Attalus has not wanted to see me. He is only concerned with Eurydice and my father. What could I possibly do to offend him?"

A/N: This is going to be continued for awhile. However, it likely will not be as long as some of my other stories. Also, I know this isn't the best idea, but I'm going to begin posting a new story I'm going to be working on as well. It is going to be called "Cassander's Campaign", and it will be the continuation from "The Persian Campaign", and "The First Campaign". It will chronicle Cassander's version of the events that happened before Hephaestion's death through flashbacks, as he sits at Alexander's side as he is dying. It also weaves the complex tale of how Alexander was poisoned, and the reason that he was murdered by someone so close to him. It, compared to this fiction, will likely be longer. Thanks for reading! If you have the time review. If you have any questions, I will get back to you as soon as I can. Baliansword