Cassander's Campaign Chapter 16: Love from Afar, an alexander fanfic

Title: "Cassander's Campaign"

Author: Baliansword

Chapter: 16, "Love from Afar"

A/N: This chapter will not be chronological to the tale. However, it should be clearly marked out when you jump back in time. It just seemed to flow better onto paper as it is written below. Thanks again for all of the reviews. I enjoy them all. Especially GuardQueen and Queendel who review so critically. Queendel, hopefully this chapter is longer and more to your taste in such fashion. Looking forward to hearing from everyone soon.

320 BC…..Athens

There was silence and not even the flames that tasted the wood of the fire dared to make a noise. Removing his hand from the drapes the thin mesh fell. The pen was still on the parchment yet nothing was written. The dot of black ink just stained the papyrus yet the slave could not begin to write. Finally Cassander turned to face him, flames outlining his face, as well as the glistening trails of tears on his cheeks. He drew in a breath though and looked away again, pulling back the drape, so that he could stare out at the stars.

"It was the last time that I saw him," Cassander said then and the slave began to pen the words. "The last time that I really saw him, before he sent for me that is. There were times when I should have sought him out on the road back to the palace in Ecbatana. That was what he wanted. I could tell that by the way he'd glance over his shoulder at me, to see if I still kept pace behind him with my men. When he got to truly wanting me he rode back and pranced his horse a moment. When I did not meet his eyes, and I never did, he'd ride off and go back to being the hardened version of himself.

"Do you understand what it is to see the softest man in the world turn to stone? No, no, he was not soft. Soft is a word for women. Hephaestion was something else, too godly, and he had too much heart. That was what really killed him, his heart. And I was the one that had made him what he was when he turned his horse and rode ahead. I hated seeing him as such but I had to protect him. If he wanted to live he needed to be hardened as he was. He had to hate me and he had to hate Alexander and only then would he be safe. He could not be the one to dive before a spear for either the king or myself. For at the times before he would have done so. That day, no, I do not think he would have.

"Foolish thinking though," Cassander confirmed. "I knew all along that Hephaestion would always die by my side if it were needed. Yet I also knew that he loved Alexander above all the rest. At least that was what I thought. I did not truly know Hephaestion, son of Amyntor, Grand Vizier to Alexander, and lover of I, until his last day. I did not know him until it was too late and for that, I curse myself every day, and wish that I could join him wherever he is."

Autumn… 324 BC… Ecbatana …

Cassander was almost asleep before the knock at the door came. He turned his head, glancing at the burning candle next to the bed. The wax had pooled around the end and would soon put the flame out. After a moment there came another knock, this one more persistent. Sighing, Cassander rose and pulled his dark black Macedonian clothing over himself. This was not the time to bother him. He was too tired to deal with whatever Alexander wanted from him.

How long, he wondered, had it taken him to get back from Ecbatana? He had set out under Alexander's orders and taken care of the last of the rebellions they expected to see. Cassander knew better though. As long as Alexander ruled there would be attempts on his life and uprisings. He could kill a hundred more and still they would come. Yet it was better to have Alexander think he was safe. It was better, for the most part, to be his friend at the moment. For if he were not he would be cast out of Ecbatana like so many others had been as of late. Cassander thought of this, cursing himself for rising, and cursing Alexander for wanting him so late. Could he not truly wait till morning? Instead, when he pulled the door back, there was a Persian that Cassander had not expected to see.

"What is it," Cassander asked, still wiping sleep from his eyes. There was a feeling he got, just then, and he lowered his hand. Bagoas did not speak just yet. He seemed to be trying to find the words and Cassander knew it was not because he did not know the proper things to say in Greek. There was a pause because Bagoas did not want to deliver such a message to him. At his gut something tugged and he felt as if something was wrong. Even before Bagoas' lips parted and he began to speak.

"Lord Hephaestion," Bagoas whispered, "would like to have audience with you. He asks for you to come even though the hour is late, for if he asked of you tomorrow, you may not be able to speak with him."

Cassander pushed past Bagoas and was already on his way to Hephaestion's room. Running through the hall he ran into a slave carrying dished as he darted around a corner. The loud clatter could have woken many yet he did not care. Nor did he stop to help. It was not even in him to shout back an apology. Instead, he reached Hephaestion's doors, and stilled. He did not know whether or not to enter. He truly worried for Hephaestion, because his heart told him to, yet maybe it was not what he thought. Closing his eyes he wished for the gods to be playing a trick on him. He put his forehead to the door, breathing out, and wanted Hephaestion to be fine. After a moment he entered the room, shutting the doors quietly behind him, and entered the soft candlelight that surrounded the bed.

"I thought…," Hephaestion whispered, voice catching in his throat, breaths uneven, "that perhaps….you would not…come."

Cassander froze when he saw him. His heart stopped beating as he stared at what Hephaestion had become. If he'd known better, he would have not paled, but he could not help it. Hephaestion was paler even than he, his lips cracked from being parched, and tears were in his eyes. He'd not shaved recently and stubble was upon his young face. Red rashes were at the corners of his eyes where he'd used to wipe tears away. Hephaestion shook slightly, convulsing, his breath becoming even more jagged. As soon as a spell had passed Hephaestion smiled, looking weaker than ever, his cerulean eyes never leaving Cassander's.

"You did not…hear then…of my illness?"

Cassander was silent as he came forward. He dropped down at Hephaestion's side, and he took his clammy hands, but looked over him. Again he saw a weakened Hephaestion. He knew that he was ill. He'd never been the same after Babylon, and then after his next illness. His immune system, so the doctors had said, would never be the same. This made it easier for him to become ill and it would be easier for him to die. He could not protect himself from sickness as he could swords and the pain of love. Cassander felt his stomach flip inside of him and his lungs began to quit on him, for he'd vowed to protect Hephaestion, but clearly had not.

"I did not mean to wake you," Hephaestion said, even now a soft laugh escaping him. Then in pain he had to squeeze his eyes shut so that he did not cry out. A tear fell and slid down his cheek. Cassander still did not know what to do. He just stared at him and felt his cold hands in his. Shaking his head slightly he looked down at Hephaestion, who looked up at him.

"I know that I…look terrible…and it is late but I…wanted to see you just once more… before I…"

"No," Cassander said, finding his voice finally. He held tighter to Hephaestion's hand in his own. He kissed the back of his palm then. Tears were filling his own eyes but he leaned forward and kissed Hephaestion's forehead. "You look no worse than you did the last time. You should calm yourself my love."

"Love," Hephaestion said weakly, eyes closed. "It is such a funny thing…how you love…and you hate…but the love never leaves you."

"No, it never leaves."

Hephaestion opened his eyes, and with a smile, he looked at Cassander. There were tears in his eyes but Cassander knew these were not from pain. He leaned down, kissing him lightly, but with all the passion he could give him. Hephaestion was weak but even still he managed to kiss him back. As Cassander pulled away he put a hand on Hephaestion's neck and he held him close for a moment. Hephaestion was cold yet seemed to have the mind of a man with fever, for he soon was whispering things that mattered in the least, but meant everything to the both of them. He spoke of some far off lesson Aristotle had taught them, but then just as he'd come up with that, he spoke painful words that made him sound saner than any man.

"Do you remember…when I got sick in India?"

"You look no worse now," Cassander said, trying to keep him strong. Doctors had already seen to him but Hephaestion had sent them out. He'd sent out even Alexander, who had been reluctant, but now slept somewhere. The doctors said Hephaestion had time even if it was not much. Hephaestion, on the other hand, was not so sure.

"Alexander brought me the drink," Hephaestion said as he closed his eyes and breathed in a painful breath. Cassander's heart froze again and he could not imagine where this was going. But beneath the calmness he put on for Hephaestion he was brewing with anger. Had Alexander been trying to kill him for so long?

"I wonder…if I would have drunk it then…what it would have changed."

"Everything," Cassander said as a tear finally fell from behind his eyes. Hephaestion did not seem to hear him though. Instead he turned his head and stared off at a shadow. It took him some time before he looked back up at Cassander.

Cassander was no fool. It was clear to see that this time he was beyond any help. Hephaestion knew the same fact but he did not seem to care. Cassander did not know what to do, should Hephaestion leave him. It was hard enough not to see him everyday. How could he go on if Hephaestion were to…he could not even think it in his head. But it was a truth he'd have to accept. Hephaestion was dying. All the medics had said so, even to Alexander, but he'd only sent for more doctors. They would all say the same. The gods had cursed the tale of Achilles and Patroclaus, and they would do the same to Alexander and Hephaestion.

"Would you do that…too?"

"Do what," Cassander asked as he held Hephaestion's hand. Hephaestion had only to meet his gaze and Cassander knew. He did not have to say it. It was written in his eyes, his soul, and upon his face. Hephaestion asked of him to bring him poisoned wine so that this suffering would soon be over. Cassander shook his head, tears falling even though he did not realize it. "No. Do not ask that of me Hephaestion. You are fine. You will soon be readying for the Arabian Campaign as all others are."

"You know that I won't," Hephaestion said with a bittersweet smile. He sat up slightly then and took Cassander's hand. In pain he pressed his lips together. Then, the words forced through pain, he said only one more thing. "If you have ever loved me, then you know me, and you know this release is what I need."

320 BC…Athens…

"What do you do," Cassander said to himself more than to the scribe. The scribe continued to scribble the words down though. Yet it was apparent that Cassander was lost in the starry night. "What do you do when someone asks you something like that? I guess you have to ask yourself what you're willing to do for love. Are you willing to give him the drink and let him die swiftly?"

Tears choked him now. He slid to the floor crying, but when the scribe moved, he put up a hand. The scribe froze and sat. Cassander did not need his help. Instead he cried onto his palms and wiped the tears from his eyes. He then continued.

"Do you let them get what they want? For truly to die with less pain would be ideal. Or do you do the selfish thing, and keep that person around, never intending to let them go? Yet they will go. And you know that either way you're going to loose the one you love. So it comes down to how much you love them. You either love enough to let go by their wishes, or you keep them, and they hate you."

Cassander glanced up.

"I did not go back for three days," Cassander said and the scribe penned this, as he wanted. Cassander looked away though. But he continued, thinking back on events that would be wonderful to forget, but if he forgot there would be no point in living. "I left him, for three days, thinking that if I did not go back he would live."

A laugh before he said, "I thought in my madness that he would become so angry with me he'd have to get up and come to curse my name to my face. On the third day, though, Bagoas came as he had the nights before. He came in midday and told me that Hephaestion was dying. He'd eaten, broiled chicken, his favorite. And he'd done so, or so I believe, to try to end it himself. It did not work though. His life could only be ended one way."

Autumn…324 BC… Ecbatana

He was silent as he pushed the door open. The room was dark to keep him comfortable, or so Bagoas had said. Cassander entered the room with the goblet in his hand. It weighed more than any other would have because he knew what was in it. In silence he came to Hephaestion's side and he sat down on the bed. Reaching out, he pulled hair away from Hephaestion's face. He was still sweating, but was still cool, and still as pale as he had been if not more. It was obvious that his lips were worse and his eyes, even now as they were closed, spilled tears. Cassander drew in a breath as he set the goblet down on the stand beside the bed. Reaching over he took a cloth and wet it in the cool water in the basin that was waiting for those that attended Hephaestion. That was not too many, since he wanted to see only Alexander and Cassander. They were the only two allowed to pass into the room.

Cassander took the cloth and wiped away the sweat at Hephaestion's brow. He then wiped away the blood at the corners of his eyes, and some at the corner of his mouth. It was clear to see that he wanted to die. He was going to die, that was also known. Yet Cassander knew he was stubborn and would not do so unless it was on his terms. He'd been waiting for him. Cassander finished wiping his neck and then put the cloth back in the basin. Silently he put a hand on Hephaestion's bare chest and ran his fingers lightly over the skin, knowing that it would wake Hephaestion. In his sleep a smile came to Hephaestion's lips and when he opened his eyes Cassander smiled as well. It was a grave smile though, one for show, but in his eyes all would be able to see his pain.

"I knew you'd come," Hephaestion whispered, voice even worse than before. Still though, Cassander found him more beautiful than anything in the world. Cursing he ran a hand through his hair and let tears come to his eyes. He then looked down at Hephaestion and nodded. He'd promised to give him anything he wanted, long ago, and this he wanted.

"Did you bring it?"

"Yes," Cassander said, voice almost inaudible. He held Hephaestion's hand for a moment, staring only at his fingers, then looked up at him. "I always loved you Hephaestion. Always. Even when I said that I did not, forgive me for lying, but I loved you. I have always loved you and there will only be you."

"I could tell," Hephaestion said with a smile. "That I knew…and I knew…that you would come and…give me what I asked of…for Alexander…will not."

"And I should not."

"I am going to die, now, or later. I would just like," Hephaestion said as he shifted as his stomach cramped. "To do so, with you here. Not alone. Not in pain."

Cassander nodded, "That is why I came."

"Try not to hate him."

"I already do," Cassander said as he wrapped his arms around him. He breathed onto his neck for a moment. He then pulled away, taking the cup, and he then let Hephaestion take it. "I cannot be here when you do it."

"Then tell me that you love me," Hephaestion asked of him, "and kiss me once more. Then go. Remember me, when you think of me, as the man that you loved."

"I never loved a man," Cassander said as he kissed his lips. Upon pulling away he finished. "I loved a god."

It was as Hephaestion wanted it. Cassander kissed him once more and then told him that he loved him. After doing so Cassander stood and left with tears in his eyes. As he reached the door he glanced once more over his shoulder at Hephaestion. Hephaestion watched him go, hearing the door shut, and then drank the wine Cassander had given him. He then put the cup on the stand and lay back. Whispering himself to sleep, he said only, "I love you too, Cassander."

320 BC…..Athens

"He waited," Cassander continued, "until Alexander came. Alexander shared whatever words he had. I'm sure they meant something but I suppose we will never know. And then, as Alexander turned his back, Hephaestion slipped away."

Cassander entered the room once more from the balcony. He had a goblet of wine in his hand now. He paced the room for a moment. Finally he stopped before a mirror and stared at himself. He could see the scribe's back to him from the reflection. He wondered if there were others that hated themselves as much as he hated himself. He couldn't even look at himself anymore.

"The only thing is," Cassander said as he turned to the scribe, "I never put poison in the wine."

A/N: You know what they say about twists. Once there is one more are to follow. The next chapter tells what happens after Hephaestion's death, and eventually will lead to why there is a scribe, as well as some other revelations. Hope you all enjoy. I'm looking forward to reviews!