Author's Note: Thank you to those who read! I've made this new chapter especially for you!
Chapter Two:
Olympias lay upon her bed in her tower where she had been placed until her execution. Still, at least Phillip's officers had the decency to let her keep her beloved snakes. She stroked the slick skin of her white serpent and it nearly purred with delight at her touch. Her true and loyal friends be these, the snakes that coiled around her. They scared her not, yet she still loved them with caution as she did all things dear to her. Except Alexander, her beloved son. She had seen watched him with her eye as he rose to her defense. Still, she let not the appearance fool her façade of judgment. True, he had yelled at her enemies, but had he done it for her? "No," she began to purr herself in her deep thought, "He did it for his vision of honor… and for himself." A sigh blew out from inside her and she leaned back more into the bed, "Still he shows respect of Phillip's wishes after betraying his company. Perhaps I have not shown him the rewards of no soul."
Her time alone was interrupted by a silent yet rapid tap on the window. A storm brewed inside her mind as she gracefully slid her pets into their baskets and cautiously opened the window. A young man no older than twenty fell into her chamber, cold and soaked. Olympias shoved the window back into place and hissed at him, "What is it you do to intrude on a woman's last hours alone?" The boy acted flustered, and Olympias observed him. He had short, curled locks of ebony and skin as tan as the desert floor that shimmered nicely with his misted, green eyes. This was an honest boy who had brought a message that he did not understand, she concluded but took no mercy on him. He knelt at her feet, "Please, my queen, I have brought a message from King Darius! He wishes to help set you free!" The woman still pretended to be cold hearted and spat upon his head, "At what price?" The messenger winced at being spat on but answered her in fear of being hit by more than saliva, "Answers to questions about the marriage." This in turn, resulted in a sneer from Olympias, "Which one?" Her white teeth reflected the lightning that had just started outside as she snarled.
This was easy for her to do, the cuts of her broken heart against her chest bled and burned worse than fresh Greek wine. Phillip's discontent with her had thrown her off and made her want to scream until she had cracked the earth in two. He had betrayed her by planting his seed through this little Greek whore and now he was putting HER to death! A cry of rage cradled in her throat and she was so tempted to let it go, but then realized that she had picked up the boy while letting her suppressed hurt to leak and had almost strangled him. At once she dropped him to the floor and let out all the answers he needed. Tomorrow was her dear daughter's wedding to her brother, and the announcement of her execution. She wanted nothing more than to hear Phillip's execution announced instead. Alexander would not be king, he would be put to death as well and that's what angered her most of all. Phillip could kill her, but to murderer her son as well was crossing her line and she would not stand for it. Not that she could do anything. Her snakes could bite him she guessed, but that would not do much, the servants would gladly suck snake venom from his ass if needed.
After she had given him his answers, the boy crawled out the window quicker than he had tapped her window. Olympias let out her snakes once more and this time, began to weep.
Alexander attempted to refuse but couldn't argue with Hephaistion. The temptation to listen to him was so arousing that he couldn't help but succumb to the sensation driven by his emotions and the man in front of him. Hephaistion turned out the light and slid into the bed linens and Alexander let himself curl into his arms. The warm embrace was so therapeutic that it had almost lulled him to sleep. What madness was coming over him? The question rolled about in his head but rolled out just as quick just as it had spun in. Alexander's melting heart pulsed hotly in his chest as Hephaistion's breath brushed up against his neck. And as amazing as the feeling was, it only got better. "Achilles," Hephaistion's voice rose barely below a whisper. To that name, Alexander slowly turned to face the person holding him to whisper right back, "Patroculus," At this, his companion nearly purred.
The prince's hands slid themselves above Hephaistion's chest and suddenly found themselves behind his neck, where one caressed up his scalp. At such an intimate touch, Hephaistion's body crumbled onto Alexander's. Thinking that perhaps this was an annoyance to the prince, he apologized, "Forgive me." But the warrior to be would not have it, "For what," he pulled the more insecure man back to his place until a thought struck him, "Wait, if my touch displeases you, I should be the one to entreat your pardon." At once Hephaistion shook his head, "No!" and let his body lie upon his beloved Alexander's.
Whatever this was, they both enjoyed it immensely. Alexander wondered why. What was it that drove him to love the moments like this? Was this just their friendship or perhaps a love deeper than that Alexander had been taught? A string of thoughts collided into Alexander like the chariot of fire that Apollo drove everyday. Even thought he was not really hit by such a chariot, he felt the strength of one in his mind and was deeply shocked to find that his body flinched not. Then a thought stronger than ten such chariots ran him over and burned with the intensity hotter than a thousand suns, including the fiery chariots that carried them. This thought burned and froze, cut and bled, shocked and killed him. This thought was this; what if Hephaistion felt nothing like this about him? What if he was just extremely loyal to him because of his rank? Or maybe just a good friend? Or what if he was neither?
So many "what if" thoughts ran into him, he nearly screamed. These insecurities were strong, and he disliked them more than the woman who was replacing his mother. This was surely the work of the furies. What had he done to upset them? What else would they do? Could it be any worse than this pain? For in his mind Alexander knew that the worst pain was not of flesh but of the mind. And his mind was in thorough distress. This burning was not the sensation he was feeling earlier, this burning was that of a white hot sword just off of the blacksmith's fire. This was a torture beyond that of all belief. Beyond a defeat and to Alexander the great that was a torture indeed. Oh, how this unnerved him!
Sensing the uneasiness within his dear, dear Alexander, Hephaistion nuzzled his neck and then whispered in his ear, "Does that name still bother, my Achilles?" He had done it again. Hephaistion had once again redeemed him from pure destruction of the mind and heart. The prince began to embrace Hephaistion unlike that of any mere kind embrace and murmured, "No. It bothers me none, thanks to you, Patroculus." His loyal companion was fooled none though, and thus he began to kneel above the exile and cupped his face in both a threatening and loving manner, "Lie to me not, Alexander and tell me what bothers you so. Please, I pray, say it is nothing I have done to displease you!" That instant the prince knew not only that Hephaistion was his loving friend, but also that he could not distance himself from him. Not for all the fiery chariots ever to exist or for every torture that the furies could throw at him. If he could to help Hephaistion, he would… but he could not. Neither a cell of his mind, nor a thread of his heart would let him. At this unspoken vow Alexander smiled and tucked a strand of the kneeling Hephaistion's hair behind his ear, "I would never lie to you, my beloved Patroculus. Not for all the glory within the heavens and earth. I will confess to feeling distressed, but you ease me. Never could you do anything to displease me." Hephaistion raised an eyebrow, but after seeing absolute truth within the eyes of the beholder, he lowered himself to rest upon his chest and they both soon fell into beautiful slumber.
Author's Note: That's the end for this chapter. I thank those who read and dedicate all my work to them. Without them, there is no point in me working at this at all.
Thank you.
The Empress of Whispers