A Winter Apart Chapter 4: Hephaestion's Condition, an alexander fanfic

Title: "A Winter Apart"

Author: Baliansword

Rating: T for Teen

Chapter: 4 of 5 ; "Hephaestion's Condition"

NOTE: Previously, it said seven chapters. I'm sorry for the confusion. There really are only five chapters to this story.

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. Thank you to everyone for their continued dedication to reading my work. Makes me feel wonderful, you have no idea!

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.

It was a beautiful morning, yet there was nothing for him to marvel at. He stood with his arms crossed over his chest and continued to stare out, to the east no less. Perhaps if he looked long enough he would see Hephaestion. Alexander knew this was not the case though. He just missed him terribly. He was beginning to think that he would leave, leaving his army behind, and run into Hephaestion's arms. However, what a disappointment he would be to Macedonia then. Instead of doing this he tried to busy himself with planning the campaign. Still, it was not the same with Hephaestion. Only Hephaestion would listen to his ranting at all times of the day.

"This came for you," a page said as he placed a letter down on the table before Alexander. As soon as Alexander reached for it, there was another entering the room though. Cassander had his sword at his side, which was never a good sign. Alexander took another sip of his drink before offering a smile to Cassander. Clearly, Cassander was not in the mood.

"We have problems," Cassander said as he collapsed on a chair before Alexander. Well, things could have been better this morning. Yet Alexander would rather have something to do than nothing at all. Apart from, of course, thinking of Hephaestion that was.

"Good morning to you too," Alexander told him.

"Not in all actuality," Cassander assured him. "The damnable Bactrians have planned a revolt. There is a small group, getting together, that plans to take you out of power."

"They do this everywhere they go," Alexander reminded him. "Just as always before, the uprising will be put down. You do not need to worry so much about it Cassander. Besides, it will give us something to do, won't it?"

"These Bactrian forces are not the same Alexander. They are even more barbaric than the Persians that tried to overthrow you. I assure you, they are far different here. They are barbarians, Alexander. They'll attack you at night if you have to. There is no honor in them. We must act now, while we have the upper hand."

"Then that is what we will do," Alexander said. He knew that Bactrian forces were different than the Persians. He himself had fought them, had he not? These forces were not going to overthrow him though. They never did. The pages led by Philotas had not, the Persian eunuchs had not, none of them would. "I assume that you know names already."

"I'm not a spy," Cassander told him as he always did before he spilled more information than any other spy could find. "There are seven of them that we know of. Of the seven, all would be considered to be a threat to you Alexander. None of them are innocent, believe me. In fact, one has been suspected of taking things from this palace, and selling them off outside of it."

"And you believe this?"

"Of course."

"Then give me some time to read this letter and…"

"Now," Cassander assured him. "The letter will be here for you when we get back. Hephaestion, believe me, would want you to deal with this first."

The last drop of blood had been spilt. It stained the sands of the pit. Alexander reached up and wiped a hand over his cheek. Blood stained his fingers already, and the action reared no result. Turning, he handed his sword to Cassander, who was equally covered in crimson. The revolt had been crushed. In the end, there were nineteen bodies to bury. There were nineteen men that would not be leaving this pit.

"Sand it over," Alexander said to the grave diggers. They averted their eyes from him. How could he blame them? He had just slaughtered nineteen men before them. Alexander said nothing more to them. Instead, he returned to his room. He threw off his chiton and wiped the blood away from his body. Letting out a breath he then drew a robe over himself and picked up the letter that still sat on his desk. For a moment he just held it close to him. Knowing that it had come from Hephaestion made it more than a mere letter. When he opened it, everything changed though.

Alexander,

This perhaps will be the least time I get to speak to you. I fear that I have fallen ill. I have tried so hard to please you with what I've done. I don't only mean the camp either. I mean everything Alexander. When we were young, I tried to mold myself into what you would have wanted me to be. But I could never begin to touch you Alexander. You were the one thing that was always out of reach. I thank you though, for letting me stay beside you, for letting me love you.

Things did not go as they should have here. I wanted so badly to prove to them, to you, and to myself that I could do this. I wanted to be able to make you a camp, something that you needed. I wanted to know that I could be okay without you. But, I fear that I couldn't do it Alexander. Without you I am nothing. It has always been so; nothing without you.

Kielas is gone Alexander. I don't even know how it happened, in truth. But I know it should have been me, instead of him. Had I been up, not weak and ill as I am now, he would have been elsewhere. It was I that should have been killed. But I am not, Alexander, I am not dead. At least not yet. Perhaps this sickness is the Fates coming back for me, realizing they took the wrong man. Poor Kielas, oh Alexander, he was so young. He had his life before him, as so many of them had, and just like the rest he now sleeps in Hades.

What have we done Alexander? When we were boys you had a dream that others thought was just out of reach. Uniting the world, they never dreamed it imaginable. You've worked so hard Alexander to prove them all wrong. And you have, for look where we are now, but what was it all for Alexander? Have we truly made things better? Was getting this far worth the lives it took to get us here? I can only wonder now Alexander. My faith is still with you, and I believe in what you are trying to accomplish. Never will I doubt you, my love, but still I must wonder. You know me, as I know you, and you know that at times this makes no sense to me. I am not strong like you are. Perhaps I cannot believe because there is nothing to believe in me.

I've let you down here Alexander, and I am going to let you down once more should I die. I have tried to be strong for you Alexander. I've tried, and I will continue to, but how can I fight an opponent I do not know? Even my body does not recognize this. I feel terrible, not that I am going to complain, for perhaps I should feel this way. Patroclaus did in fact die first. Perhaps that was our fate Alexander, as soon as we decided to live this epic tale we're now in.

I worry for you, without me. Both of us know you Alexander. I don't want to leave you. I want you to be able to have the only speck of sanity you have left in the world; mine. Oh Alexander, I miss you more than you can know. Perhaps some of this aching is not even illness. Perhaps it does not come from the work. Perhaps it is just my body yearning for yours, as does my mind, my heart, and my soul. I miss everything about you Alexander.

I love you Alexander. I could never ask more of you, than to love me, either. It was all I ever wanted Alexander. Still, I mean every word that I said to you, each and every one. You are my life Alexander, you are the one that I care for, and I don't want to lose you to this world. But, should I have to, know that I love you. I have always loved you. I just wanted you to know.

Hephaestion.

Immediately the letter was on the bed. Alexander, on the other hand, was not. Cassander glanced up as he spotted him coming down the hall. He said nothing to him though, sensing that Alexander was in a hurry. Why, he did not know, yet he knew to stay out of his way. Alexander made his way to the physician's hall within seconds it seemed.

"Get up," Alexander screamed as he entered. He spotted Philip, his most trusted physician and grabbed on to his shoulders. "Philip I need you to prepare, you and fie others, the best, to go to Hephaestion."

"My lord?"

"He is ill," Alexander told him.

"Sending five of your best physicians to his aid is excessive," Ptolemy tried to explain to Alexander. He was the only one that was trying to explain it. The other Companions simply watched, all secretly hoping that Ptolemy would be silent. None of them wanted to see him pay with his life.

"And losing one of my generals is excessive too."

"I'm not saying he doesn't deserve the treatment. I am merely saying he only needs one physician. Not five of the best."

"Ptolemy," Alexander said, his voice serious now, meaning the conversation was going to come to a close now. "Hephaestion will receive the physicians. They are mine to send, not yours."

"Be reasonable," the other continued. "Should an accident occur, you will wind up missing five physicians. I only ask you to think it through. What if something should happen here?"

"Then it is a good thing that we have more physicians."

"My king," a page said as he entered the room. Alexander glanced at him, knowing that Ptolemy could continue until he killed him. Not that he would, but Ptolemy had a way of being stubborn. "There is word that there is to be an attack in the area nearest where Hephaestion's reports have come from. They wish to attack you there Alexander, say your sources. They'd like to know what to do."

"Cassander," Alexander said without a moment's hesitation. "Get ready to go with the physicians, which shall be sent by the end of the day. The rest of you get your things ready now. Get your men ready. I feel that we'll be arriving slightly early to the camp."

"Hephaestion," a voice whispered. He couldn't hear it, not clear enough to open his eyes. Instead he heard it as if it were muffled. The voice said his name once more and he tried to open his eyes. He finally did, blinded by the sun, and looked up into the eyes of Cassander. He was in fact the last person that Hephaestion would have expected to see after his dream, which for the most part, made no sense now that he thought about it.

"You look terrible," Cassander said as he placed a hand on Hephaestion's forehead. Hephaestion felt another hand touching his wrist and moved his head to the side. Philip, a face he didn't know he could be so glad to see, was intently listening for his pulse. Hephaestion slowly turned his gaze back to Cassander. Cassander stared at him without saying a word for a moment. He was watching Philip, as if that would explain something.

"Alexander," Hephaestion asked, his throat burning. This brought Cassander's eyes back to his. Cassander shifted from where he sat and again placed his hand against Hephaestion, this time at his cheek, checking to see if there was any change in his temperature.

"He will be here in a few days time," Cassander assured him. "He was preparing the men to move. He's concerned about you though. You do, after all, look terrible. How is it that you get sick so often?"

"How bad is it," he then asked Philip.

"A fever from some bad water," Philip said. He continued to touch Hephaestion's arm. He then felt the muscles of his neck. "Yes, it is a fever, but it can be easily cured. When was the last time you were up Hephaestion?"

"Days ago," he whispered.

"Your muscles ache, I am sure. But truly you are not dying, as Alexander would like to think. Now, give me a few minutes to mix something up for you, and by the time Alexander arrives you will be yourself again."

Hephaestion listened for a few more moments as Philip explained to Cassander what was happening. Then, the world slipped away once more. Darkness enveloped him for some time. When he opened his eyes again, he was in a different tent, yet there was no one else with him. Hephaestion struggled to sit up, his head aching almost as much as the rest of his body. He finally was in a sitting position, his body aching, and he was able to look around the tent once more. Instantly he knew where he was. He was in Alexander's tent. There was no other tent that would look as this one did, fine gold flaps, and the finest fur bed. There was no other that would have candles burning, the ones that smelled like lavender, just for him. Hephaestion swallowed, his throat burning slightly.

There was no one in the tent but already he felt as if Alexander's presence was around him, almost as if his arms already were holding him close. Hephaestion swung his legs over the bed and pushed himself up. He was weak, very weak, but he needed to see Alexander. As soon as he stood he actually felt slightly better. Drawing in a quick breath he glanced around the room once more. Sitting on a stand, on a silver platter none the less, were his favorite assorted fruits. He reached over and picked up a berry and tasted it. Alexander had a way of making him feel as if he too were a king, when he did not need to.

"Are you feeling better," a voice asked. Hephaestion smiled, even before he turned around. There was no voice more familiar to him than Alexander's. If he never again heard another voice, he would not complain.

A/N: Again, there are only five chapters to this story. I'm not sure why before it said seven. Sorry for the mistake. The last chapter shall be the last! We must, after all, bring the lovers back together.