A Winter Apart Chapter 3: Dealing with Winter, an alexander fanfic

Title: "A Winter Apart"

Author: Baliansword

Rating: T for Teen

Chapter: 3 of 7 ; "Dealing with Winter"

Pairings: Alexander/Bagoas, Alexander/Hephaestion

Summary: What Hephaestion and Alexander did apart over a winter. Includes letters the two wrote one another.

Warnings: Some sexual content, some gore, but overall rather mellow

A/N: I felt that their separations should be written. They are together in most stories. I thought we should split them up for awhile. But don't worry; they come back to one another at the end.

Dedication: I dedicate this to everyone who has ever been apart from love. (And to my Calculus class, because that is where I've been brainstorming this.)

H/N: During Alexander's campaigns he often sent Hephaestion to secure areas. However, they were generally not apart long. Not until the Hindu Kush campaign, where they spent a winter apart. Historically, the separation in this fiction happened. However, some of my events might not have.

Hephaestion used all of his strength to force the beam back up. He held it and waited, and Kielas continued to slam a large hammer against the beam. Finally it sunk down into the frozen earth and did not move again. This time it was stable. Hephaestion took a step away from the pole and pulled his fur blanker closer to him once more. Some of the heat was lost, but it did not matter. It would still end up being better with it on. He let out a breath, which froze, and fog seemed to linger in the air. Never before had he been so cold.

"I have never been so cold," Kielas said, seconding Hephaestion's thought, as he stood. He placed the hammer back down on the beam and then stretched his arm out once again. For days now they had been setting the beams up. They first had to dig through snow and some ice, and after that, they had to dig through cold dirt. It was a painstaking task. Yet it was something that had to be done. Hephaestion had luckily remembered that in order to keep the beams from cracking while it grew colder they had to coat them first with a liquid made by carpenters in Pella. This had saved them some time at least.

The camp was coming together though. Their temporary tents did not move. They froze in the night, and in the morning would thaw slightly. However, by the ending of the day they would be growing stiff once more. Hephaestion had never seen so much snow in his life. It rained constantly in most of the Hindu, yet here, now, it seemed only to snow. The camp, the one Alexander was expecting to come to, was at the moment only large beams. Once the beams were up, they could begin the rest though. There would be a granary first, for they too needed one currently, and then they would begin to work on the stables and the barracks. With Alexander's legions the barracks would take the longest to build and finish.

"Perhaps this is the end of the world," Kielas said.

"No," Hephaestion disagreed as he began to take his blanket off. He then took this blanket and wrapped it around Kielas. Kielas had been working on this far longer than he had. He was already shaking, from the cold and a lack of energy, but was too prideful to ask for a blanket. He'd lost his somewhere on the journey here, and in doing such, had already told Hephaestion he deserved nothing. Hephaestion couldn't stand there and let him freeze though. "There will be no end of the world for Alexander. We'll travel around it once more when he is through."

Kielas wrapped the blanket around himself, even though it was against his better judgment. He held the blanket close and then looked around at what was to be Alexander's camp. It looked good, for how long they had been there. It had been an entire month and the foundations to most of everything were set. Today they needed to finish this line of beams, and then the floors would all be started. His attention then turned back to Hephaestion though, who ran a hand through his hair. In the month they'd been there he'd not shaved. It likely kept him warm, Kielas figured. He also thought that it made him look wiser though.

"You look good," Kielas said after a moment. Hephaestion, who had been pulling his hair back, glanced over at him. Kielas did nothing more than give him a quick smile at first. He knew all about Hephaestion though. When he'd first joined Alexander's campaign, Hephaestion looked so young, so beautiful. Over the years he had changed. He'd grown to be a general, a true man, and it was physically visible as well. Where once he'd been soft skinned, lovely cheeks, there was a scar over one. Hephaestion from the moment of getting it had been worried. Even Kielas remember that day…

Hephaestion reached up with a hand, placing it to the blood on his cheek. He withdrew three bloody fingers and cursed. It took him a moment to calm before he put the cloth into the water basin once more. He picked it up, squeezing it, and then wiped his cheek with it once more. It was nothing terrible; however, it was something that clearly concerned him. As he scrubbed the wound, Kielas glanced over at him, and laughed slightly as he found him a bandage. The young page then came closer.

"It is not so bad," Kielas said as he pulled Hephaestion's hand away and ushered him to a seat. Hephaestion sat reluctantly and Kielas looked at the wound. It was not too deep. He merely had to keep it clean and it would leave a small scar. Kielas was not sure of whether or not he should mention this to him as of yet. "Be still, my lord, or I am bound to hurt you somehow."

"How bad is it?"

"It is nothing."

"Be honest," Hephaestion said as Kielas tended the wound. "Is it something that Alexander is going to hate me for?"

"No," laughed Kielas. He rubbed something over the wound and then dabbed at it with the cloth. He then leaned down and blew against the wound lightly. "There you are. It will be fine soon. Alexander will adore it."

"What do you mean," Hephaestion asked him as he wiped a flake of ice away from his cheek. Never before had he been so cold. When frost was building up on his shoulders, there was something wrong in the world. Hephaestion continued to look at Kielas though, wondering what the other had meant by his comment.

"With the scars," Kielas answered. "You always seem to worry about them. I think you look good with them. They give you character."

"I don't mean to be vain," Hephaestion said with a slight laugh. "Sometimes I wonder if Alexander still looks at me the same way though. If there is one thing I have learned on this campaign, it is that we all need to be insecure. The moment that you think things are fine, things go wrong."

"You refer to Bagoas even now?"

"I know he loves me," was the confident answer that Hephaestion gave. He could not phrase it otherwise. Alexander loved him, and that was enough to know for the moment. Things had happened that he had no control over. Yet, even when done, he still loved Alexander. He forgave him for his misgivings. Perhaps if he did not love him so much he would not, but that was the problem, for he loved him. Kielas sensed the unease and changed the subject though, trying to keep things light.

"I'm sick to death of stew."

"We all are," agreed the general. He ran his hand through his hair once more as they started towards their tents. All that were working were doing the same thing. They would work for a short amount of time, then go to warm themselves again. The snow was hard on Macedonians. Many of them had never seen snow, or if they had, they'd never had to trudge through it all day long. "Perhaps it shall freeze though, and then we will have nothing to eat at all."

"Why does Alexander want to settle anything here," Kielas said as they stepped into Hephaestion's tent. He took the fur coat off then, handing it back to Hephaestion, and sat down by a steaming fire. Hephaestion set the blanket down, feeling that he would not need it, and sat down silently. Kielas placed his hands over the fire and glanced over at him.

"It is the center," Hephaestion answered to the best of his knowledge. He drew his knees to his chin and let out a breath. It was good to have a friend near. Many of the other men respected him, yet only Kielas would he consider to be his friend. "He has a vision, Kielas, a vision that I fear the men are forgetting to see. They are like children. You can raise them, teach them all that you know, but still they will one day leave to start their own life. That is how the army is now, the older soldiers especially. They've come as far as they think they should have to go. Now, they wish to change things, to go their own way."

"Many still have faith in Alexander. I still have faith in him."

"Which is appreciated. You've been here longer than some of them. For that I thank you, for being a friend, I am in debt to you."

"You owe me no debt for something I would have done freely."

"Are you going to make her your wife," asked Hephaestion after they'd spoken for a few more moments. Kielas admitted that someday he would like to have a home. However, that time for him was not now, and this he made sure to tell Hephaestion. He'd much rather help Alexander until the campaigns were done than do nothing at all. Yet, there was always that woman waiting for him, the woman he loved –no matter where she was from.

"I would like to," he answered. His smile lit his face up. "She is a treasure, truly. Perhaps she is like my Alexander, compared to you."

"Kielas," a voice called out faintly from outside the tent. Kielas gave Hephaestion a quick eye roll. He then stood, his hands warm now, and he paused before Hephaestion. With a hand he cupped Hephaestion's cheek, the one without the scar, and he placed a soft kiss against the other cheek –which had a scar.

"You will always be stunning," Kielas told him before leaving. Hephaestion watched him go, wondering where that had come from. They were merely friends though, and he knew this. Still, he found comfort in knowing that someone would call him stunning.

ONE WEEK LATER…

Hephaestion had coughed all night. As the light began to filter into the tent he rolled to his other side. He pulled the blanket over his head and tried to sleep once more. It had been hours since the sun had rose. He was too weak to get up though it seemed and he'd put things in another's hands. Kielas was more than capable of setting things up for the day. Hephaestion could sleep, and this fatigue would be gone by the next day. None of the men complained about Hephaestion taking a day of rest. He had been more than generous in giving many of the men the same day of rest should they request it. Sleep found him luckily, and he did not wake up until he heard shouting, and a large crashing sound.

Instantly he was awake when he heard this. He practically bounded out of his tent, and immediately, he knew that something was very wrong. Hephaestion saw where men were standing, orders being shouted, beams being lifted. He rushed past a group of approaching men, shoving past them, and then his heart sank suddenly. Everything had gone completely wrong.

"Move the beams," Hephaestion shouted. Hands immediately were grabbing large beams, pulling them away. They moved quickly, but it did not seem like they were moving anything. Once one beam was gone, it seemed more piled up. A horse thrashed and Hephaestion ordered someone to cut the horse loose. The horse was up then it seemed and the wagon was tipped back over.

"Kielas," Hephaestion's voice shook as he swept the younger man into his arms. He pushed bloody hair out of Kielas' face and stared down at him, panicking all the while. A few of the other men tended to the other two fallen men. Kielas did not move though. He did not move, and he made no sounds as the others did. "Kielas! Listen to me, Kielas, can you hear me?"

""Hephaestion," whispered another of the men. Hephaestion couldn't make out who it was. He was more concerned with Kielas, who still was unmoving in his arms. "Hephaestion…sir…he is not going to answer you."

He knew, he knew even before someone had to say it. He could feel what he could not see. His fingers were slick with blood, and thick blood at that, and he knew how pale Kielas was. His hands were underneath Kielas. One was holding his head, the other against his back. It was from his head that the blood was oozing. Hephaestion pulled him closer to him, placing his head against his breath. A moan of pain escaped him.

"Kielas!"

A day later Hephaestion was sitting on a stool, his face blank of any expression, staring at Kielas. He was so peaceful. His face was as pale as the snow outside of the tent it seemed. He now looked better, the embalmers had done a good job with him. If you did not know, perhaps you would think him still alive, merely sleeping. Nothing moved in the room, apart from a dripping corner of the tent. Hephaestion continued to stare at his body, blaming himself for what had happened.

Had he been awake, perhaps he could have saved his life. The horse could have collided with him as the wagon tipped, wheels sliding in the frozen earth. Somewhere he knew that this was not the case though. It was merely an accident. However, still, he felt as if he were to blame. Hephaestion stared at Kielas, knowing that there was a woman waiting for him, and she'd never see him alive again. Maybe she would never see him again if they could not find a way to send him back.

"I'm sorry," Hephaestion said, tears sliding down his cheeks as he placed a hand over Kielas', which were folded on his chest. He was sorry for this entire journey. Alexander was right. Someone else, someone stronger, should have gone. Then, Kielas would have found no interest to go. This terrible, terrible thing was his entire fault. He was all that he'd been called by others. He was nothing more than a failure.

Kielas' body was burned that night.

ANOTHER WEEK LATER…

Things were getting better now. No one had forgotten what had happened to Kielas. However, it made them work harder it seemed. Buildings were going up. The granary was almost done. In a few more days, it would be, and they would have something accomplished. Hephaestion slammed the hammer down against the pole and it sunk into the ground. He worked as a man with regret did. He slammed the pole again, and it sunk further. When the line was finished, he found himself back in his tent. His cough was worsening.

By the end of the night, he felt as if he could not breathe. His eyes watered and he felt hot, even though he was so very cold. Everything blurred, and he went to sleep, and when he woke there was a healer leaning over him. It hurt. His eyes burned. Yet still he felt as if he could not breathe. Finally he opened his eyes fully and tried to speak.

"Alexander," he said hoarsely.

"No," the Persian physician answered him as he poured something down Hephaestion's throat. "He gives you only his spirit now. You must drink."

"Paper," was the last thing that Hephaestion said before everything went black.

A/N: Let me know what you think everyone. As always, thank you to all of my readers and reviewers. Hope you enjoy this! Next chapter shall be up soon I hope.