The King's Spies, an alexander fanfic

Title: "The King's Spies"

Author: Baliansword

Rating: T for Teen

Type: One Shot

Pairings: None

Warnings: Some violent situations

Summary: Cassander and Hephaestion have never seen eye to eye. Yet both of them are willing to protect their king at all costs. Hence, they make the perfect pair when setting out on a secret mission to annihilate a threat to Alexander. Third person from more of Cassander's, but is not a POV.

A/N: This was an interesting idea that I had. I'm sure some spy-like mercenaries were used. Granted, they might not have been Cassander and Hephaestion, but it still works for this. Also, reviews are always enjoyed!

Dedication: To psychology! Where we do nothing of any importance! I get way more information reading about Alexander.

H/N: This takes place during the Persian campaign. For this story, let us say Alexander has just moved into Darius' palace. Note that this is not historically a proven story, it is merely my idea.

The obscurity made it almost impossible to see in the room. Even the candles that were lit on the table, and the torches that were positioned in their stands at the side of the room, were not enough to bring illumination to this shadowy place. During the day this was a world of perfection, and sunlight touched everything, to a point where it could almost be too vivid. Yet when the hours of darkness crept over the land, all such suspicions of splendor were lost, and were filled with caginess. The men that sat around the table were deceivers, of course, as were all men. It, through years and experience, had been proven already that men were never trustable creatures. It was not in their characters, and women were far worse off still. The men at this table tried to keep this knowledge to themselves though. They tried to remind one another of their loyalties, of their supposed friendships –some of which did not exist at all. They were all pretenders in that fact. They were the closest of friends in this room perhaps, but even in this room, their minds continued to think over things. In truth, they were never friends. They could not be friends. Friends did not exist, they were as much a myth as all the rest they'd been told as children. None of the men knew this better than Cassander.

He sat with one hand draped on the table, fingers touching the edge of his cup. Still he had not taken a sip. The other men were negligent to think they had the right to unreservedly swig the wine. Already, even after being in Persia for a mere week, he knew not to drink from their wine. These Persian harlots, and even the eunuch boys, could not be entrusted with drinks. They should be trusted with nothing. Poisons that were tasteless liquids ran through this country. Already Cassander knew this, as did the others, yet they were so trusting. They were so foolish. Staring at the daftly blind before him, his other hand rested on his lap. At his side hung a concealed dagger, one which he could immediately reach, should the need arise. He knew that it would be needed at some time. This palace was not secure, for Alexander had not made it secure. The fault of the matter was that the king cared more about his lover than he did his life.

Hephaestion sat across from him now. His long hair was hanging over his shoulders, perfect it seemed, as it always was. Cassander kept his gaze upon him for a moment. Everything one needed to know about Hephaestion, should they care, they could tell simply by looking at him. His appearance told one much about him. His eyes were cerulean, bright and pained even at times, but at the same times were always the key to his soul. In simple truth, he was striking in presence. At the same time, he could give off the impression of being better than those around him. It was not always his fault. Part of the time, Alexander let him act in such a way, and Hephaestion would not know his simple gestures in public were obnoxious and offensive to the other men. Yet, it came down to the fact that he was not a true Macedonian. He was not raised in Pella, for the most part, and instead grew up in Athens for much of his youth. It was there that he was taught what he knew. In Athens they fought with pride, and words, instead of with blades and their hands. In such an aspect he was different than the men around him, and he knew it, and Alexander knew it. Cassander knew it as well, and at times, he despised Alexander for choosing Hephaestion to be his closest friend. Hephaestion gave him nothing that another could not. He was nothing, in truth, that the others could not be.

Cassander had not only problems with Hephaestion though. Hephaestion was a grand problem, yet, there were others that were far worse. He found that he could not stand Ptolemy. Over the years, when they were boys till now, Ptolemy had changed. He'd become wise, or at least, he believed in his own mind that he was wise. Intelligence was measured by many factors though and Cassander doubted that he was very clever at all. A clever man would not boast before others. Instead, he would be secretive about his knowledge, revealing only what he had to when the need arise. Ptolemy was not a wise man. Instead, he was a charlatan. He longed to get into Alexander's ear, to be there to help him in his times of need. Cassander granted him only the fact that he had devised a rather remarkable plan. The fact that it would never work was Ptolemy's fault, not his own. There were so many ways to get to a king. All of the men at this table had a different view on how to do such.

From where he sat, he knew them all. He knew all of their plans as if they were his own. Ptolemy yearned to be the intellectual friend. For being such, he hoped to gain Alexander's trust, and then more until he himself owned land. Nearchus prided himself in his skills as a warrior. Cleitus, the friend of a deceased father, who in being such thought he deserved more than others. The rest of them were bold enough to think that friendship alone was good enough. Hephaestion, on the other hand, was the only original one. It was not only because he warmed the king's bed, either. Cassander looked at him and knew what hid behind those cerulean irises. Hephaestion had the only perfected technique. He was the lover, the best friend, and his power came from being the only one that truly cared for Alexander. Cassander silently praised him. It was not to mock him either, for he knew that he was the only one that truly cared about Alexander. Had they been born to farmers, they would have found one another all the same. They were the balance for one another. For that, Cassander knew that Hephaestion would gain more than the others. He, on the other hand, would prove victorious one day. The others could be granted nothing from Alexander, or any king for the matter, if they were all eventually dead. His plan was long term, as it should be. In the end, this empire they were creating would be his. He only had to act slowly, over years, instead of minutes.

Alexander sat where he always did, before them all, laughing as he always did at anything that was told to him in the hopes that it was humorous. Cassander was not afraid to admit that they were hardly ever comical, the imagined stories that those such as Nearchus told. Alexander chuckled at something else, took another gulp of his wine, and then glanced at his beloved Hephaestion. For a brief moment, the king reached over and placed his hand on his general's. Instantly, after a second's brief contact, he moved his hand. Perhaps they both knew that all were watching them, or, all could be watching them. In truth, no one cared. They all knew, and had known, since it had begun when they were young adults. Cassander rolled his eyes, for it was pointless to deny it. What they did was up to them. It would be frowned upon if Alexander did not quickly produce an heir, which Cassander was sure he could not do with Hephaestion, but apart from that it was no matter beyond grasp. They loved one another. Could any other complain?

"Alexander," a voice finally broke out amongst the group. Cassander glanced over at Cleitus. Of course it would be him to bring things to session. He was the elder amongst them, the one that believed he should be able to run things. Cassander averted his eyes from the other man. In no way would he bow down to Cleitus' will. Never would he allow Cleitus to think that he had any of his devoted attention, because he would never have it. In Cassander's mind, Cleitus would instead be wise not to draw attention to himself. Elder men always seemed to lose power, especially when they were too cold to grasp it.

"There is word," Cleitus said with an amused laugh, "that in the city bordering your new palace there is a leader that would want you killed."

"Now is there," Alexander asked. He felt too like laughing but Cassander could see that he was not going to. He did, however, see that Alexander was not distressed over this. Cassander once again found his eyes wandering over to Hephaestion. Hephaestion was no longer looking at Alexander, but instead at the youth that had brought Alexander his plate of chicken. Cassander laughed to himself. It was clear that Alexander was taking a liking to him, but on the other hand, Hephaestion was feeling rejected. Could things get better tonight?

"You should look into it," Hephaestion said as he pulled his stare away from Bagoas. He lifted his hand from the table and touched a finger to his lip. The same concern that he always had was there. He was so afraid that something was going to sweep his dear Alexander away from him. Cassander watched as Hephaestion's eyes seemed to plead with Alexander when nothing else is his body moved. Alexander on the other hand laughed.

"There is no need," he assured him. "Should there be a leader, he'll soon give up trying to combat me. Believe me, Hephaestion; he'll not get in these walls."

"Still," Cassander finally spoke up. "It is better to stop something before it begins. Would you not agree?"

"Well," Alexander said with a shrug. Clearly his mind was on something else. Cassander felt as if he could say more. Yet he knew that the opportune time would come. In fact, already he was planning something. He glanced down at the plate of food before him. He was starving, but at the same time, he still was not sure if he could trust a Persian cook. After a few more moments of staring at the chicken, he picked up a utensil and picked at the roasted bird. All the while he watched Alexander, determining what mood the king was in this night. Already he knew that he wanted Hephaestion to spend the night with him. It was clear, for he kept glancing at him, signaling at him with his eyes. Cassander let nothing out. It was his secret to know, and the other fools to never see. Of course they could not see it. They did not know how to look for it.

Dinner went on, and Cassander said nothing. Once more, the same war stories were told. They had been telling them since the battle of Issus and Gaugamela. Cassander was sick of them speaking of it. They were all there. They could all remember what they had done. Did they truly need to go over it again and again? He finished his meal though, and finally, he took a sip of the burgundy wine that sat in his cup. No one else had died, and no other looked ill, so he assumed there was no poison in it. Half of his mind reminded him that assumption was often the same thing as death. He drank the wine though, for he thirsted, and he continued to observe Alexander until the rest of the table began to rise. It was getting late, very late, and many of them wanted sleep. There were, however, those of them that would like to sleep in the harem.

It was when Hephaestion rose that Cassander pushed away from the table. He too stood and filed out of the room with the rest of them. This did take some time though. It seemed that a few of the companions liked to speak when there was no need for it. Cassander waited outside, in the hall, until he saw Hephaestion leave. According to their custom, Hephaestion would return to his room, and Alexander would go to his. After waiting for the others to have the chance to leave the halls, Hephaestion would then find his way to Alexander's side. It was always the same with them, so routine, and Cassander knew this. He waited until Hephaestion began to stride down the hall. It was then that he made his move. Walking up beside him, Cassander placed his hand upon Hephaestion's elbow, and quickly he pulled him to the side. Hephaestion was jerked to the side, and as Cassander did this, he let out a startled yelp.

"Be silent," Cassander said as he cupped a hand over Hephaestion's mouth. He shoved him back into the wall. Hephaestion did not struggle as much as Cassander would have hoped. Instead, he reached up and grabbed Cassander's wrist. He forced his arm away, but Cassander still was dominant, and he was not going to back down to a feeble thing like Hephaestion. Cassander slapped Hephaestion's grip away and stared at him boldly. He then continued what he'd meant to say, before of course, Hephaestion so rudely interrupted him. "You have a job to do Hephaestion Amyntor."

"And what would that be," he asked quietly, knowing that this meeting was to be private. There was no light where Cassander had pushed them. This made perfect sense though. Cassander was a man that dealt with everything in a shady manner. Hephaestion almost snarled at him, sick of being put in this position. Cassander, on the other hand, merely smirked at him as if he were mocking him all the while.

"You own him," Cassander replied, speaking of Alexander. "In doing so, you own all of us, at least for the time being. It is you that he listens to, as foolish as it may be, and because of this you need to speak with him."

"You think I don't wish to protect him," Hephaestion said as he shoved him forcefully away from him. He continued on his way to his room, however, Cassander followed him. He stopped suddenly, turning on Cassander and glared at him. Cassander liked him much more when he had this fire inside of him. "Of course I would have him look into this! How dare you think anything else?"

"Then tell him. Beg him. Use your methods of persuasion. We all know what they are. Hold him close, ruffle his hair, kiss him…go beyond that if you would like. But have him look into this Hephaestion. He must do it now. This palace is not safe now. Add to it a leader, and it will be over."

"You," Hephaestion said as he grabbed one of Cassander's shoulders and shoved him back. Cassander quickly delivered a blow to his chest though and Hephaestion, not one to fight over speaking, finally snapped. In an instant they were both on the floor, rolling over one another, fighting over what mattered most to them –whether it be their pride, their heart, their king, or their inheritance. Hephaestion in the end straddled Cassander, as he always did, and always would do. He did not choose to fight. Yet, when he did, he was strong. Hephaestion pinned him down and glared at him. "Don't offend my name in such a way."

"So is he an offense to you now?"

Hephaestion slapped him and Cassander laughed for a moment. Then, quickly, he pushed Hephaestion off of him. He pulled the other up by the arm, slamming him back into the wall as he did so. Yes, Hephaestion was strong, but he did not have the anger that Cassander did. Cassander wrapped a hand around Hephaestion's throat and began to cut his air off. Hephaestion struggled in vain, for Cassander's grip was expert. It was perfect. Smirking, a sadistic distorted smile, he went on.

"Hephaestion," he said as he cupped Hephaestion' chin with his free hand. "I would really hate to be stuck here without a king. Even worse, I would hate to have my throat slit by some rebellious Persian while I sleep. Therefore, I need you to use this handsome fact of yours to get Alexander to care a little more about the nature of this situation. Do it, Hephaestion, or he is as good as dead. Neither of us want that, now, do we?"

"No," the other finally responded. Cassander let go of his throat then, and Hephaestion struggled to breathe. He reached up to rub his throat and glared at Cassander. If looks could burn, Cassander would be in flames. He did nothing more though, nothing more than give him a look that Cassander recognized well. Of course he recognized it. He had seen it since they were childhood friends.

"I will give you ten minutes. Meet me at the north corridor balcony." This was the last thing that Cassander said before he stepped away from Hephaestion. Giving no further instructions, or threats for the matter, Cassander left him there alone. He seemed to float meaninglessly away into the darkness, which provided a perfect veil for him. Hephaestion remained for a moment before he tried to find his composure. Drawing in a breath, he continued not to his room, but instead went to Alexander's. He entered, knowing that no matter what happened, he was going to somehow upset or let Alexander down tonight. It had been so long since they had been given a moment to themselves. Tonight would be a perfect chance to be alone with him, in a way they both desired, yet now it would seem as if they wouldn't get the opportunity. Not with Cassander threatening to bring him physical harm, that was.

As he entered Alexander glanced up from the book he held in his hand. A new title, which he had found in Darius' personal possessions, now occupied his free time. Darius had left it in his wardrobe before fleeing. Translating it was the pain for Alexander. Hephaestion figured that he did it because there was not much else to do, not with him constantly working, and having long nights to himself. Besides, if Alexander thought that it would bring him a better understanding of Darius, then so be it. Hephaestion was not going to stop him. Alexander looked so statuesque when he concentrated, which he was doing now as he read, trying to translate each and every word. Hephaestion smiled genuinely. There really was so much to love about Alexander.

"I thought you were not coming."

"I would never break a promise," Hephaestion assured him. Of course, Alexander already knew this. He was merely jesting. He did so, for what he truly desired to say he could not at times say to Hephaestion. After a moment of staring at those radiant cerulean eyes, he stepped forward and pressed a gentle kiss upon Hephaestion's brow. He hoped a day never came where he had to be without him. He wouldn't be able to stand it. Hephaestion smiled softly, blinked, and then averted his eyes. Alexander knew that this was never a good sign. His expression faded and his lust was replaced with fretting.

"What is it," Alexander asked.

"I worry for you," Hephaestion then told him in confidence. "I constantly worry for you, even if you do not."

"You refer to that nonsense spoken of at dinner? Hephaestion, it is nothing. You know all will be well. Do not worry over meaningless prattle."

"Alexander, it is not meaningless," he told him. He almost pleaded in fact. "We cannot know that all will be fine. Never before have you been in this position. You have always been a king to me, yes, but to the people here you are nothing. They do not owe you anything Alexander."

"Phae, my love, do not worry. Please, I only want you to be mine tonight."

"Don't you even care?"

"What would you have me do? Would you have me send soldiers to every home with a purple drape over it? How many homes could that be Hephaestion? Already I have overthrown Darius. I have taken everything these people know and I have turned it over. They do not yet know this change is for the better. They will be free here, now, Hephaestion. They merely need time, and then you will see my love, all shall be fine. They will never get close to me."

"They don't want time, Alexander."

"Phae," Alexander called out to him as he turned his back to him. Hephaestion said nothing though. Instead, he left, knowing that Alexander would have sense enough not to follow him. As he could have predicted, Alexander did not follow him. Hephaestion then made his way to meet Cassander. He never would have thought that he would actually seek Cassander out anywhere, let alone here, and now. Moments later though, he stepped out onto the balcony next to the man that was already standing there. Cassander barely glanced over at him as he approached.

"He has other things on his mind," Hephaestion told him. He said nothing more. There was nothing more that he had to say to Cassander. On the other hand, Cassander nodded and glanced over at him.

"Well, what else?"

"Purple draped over the door," Hephaestion answered. Suddenly, he wondered why Cassander needed to know that bit of information. It didn't take long for him to know. His eyes grew wide as Cassander smirked. "Cassander, no. You would be a fool to do whatever you are thinking of this very moment."

"What makes you think that," asked Cassander, who was already leaving the balcony. Hephaestion followed him into the hallway. He glanced around, checking for others. There were none though, of course. Cassander on the other hand did not seem to care whether or not there were others to see them. Let them see. What were they going to say? Besides, should they say anything, he would kill them.

"Because I know you," Hephaestion said. "You never think anything through."

"Well, then it's a good thing I did not ask your opinion. Thank you for your help. You go keep Alexander busy. I will care about the matter for him."

"Cassander," Hephaestion said sternly. "You are not an assassin. This is not your duty, and this is not something to do for pleasure! Cassander! If anyone even knows you are thinking this it could cause a large scale panic amongst the Persians. You could start something far worse if you even go looking for this kind of confrontation."

"Go write your code of ethics down for me again," Cassander jested. He glanced over his shoulder and tried to wave him away with a hand. "Stop following me, Hephaestion. Pretend you never saw me. Be blind to everything. I like it when you act like that."

"Cassander, why can you not listen to me for once? Believe me, this is the worst thing you could do!"

Cassander had finally had enough. He spun around and cupped a forceful hand over Hephaestion's mouth. Hephaestion did not move. Cassander was glad to see that he was learning. In truth, he liked that the Athenian bred whelp could be trained. At least he could possibly be good for something. Cassander tilted his head and ran a hand over Hephaestion head; perhaps as if he cared for him somewhere deep, deep beneath the surface he probably enjoyed Hephaestion being around. He brought him entertainment, did he not? They still need to have a heart to whatever Cassander had. He admitted to not having much of anything, apart from anger, in the emotions department.

"Listen," he hissed. "The longer you let one man protest, the longer you give for an uprising. One man will turn into two, two into four, and four into eight. Before you know it you will have an army, a force to be marveled at. You know this Hephaestion. You are far brighter than you would let anyone else see. Yes, I know. I'm no assassin by title. I'm merely a spy that plans to do some killing to reach a means to an end to a problem that thanks to myself we will not have. Do you understand this Hephaestion? I am not asking you to be an Athenian. I am asking you, in fact, rather not to be involved in this at all. If you insist though, as I am sure you will, can you please pretend that you are a Macedonian in actions?"

"Cassander, you are not thinking of the repercussions of this. Others will accuse Alexander of sending mercenaries to kill Persians. Reformers or protesting, or nothing at all should the information be wrong, they are first and foremost Persian citizens."

"Who said," he replied quietly, "that I was going to make it look as if he was murdered? People die all the time Hephaestion. You've seen dead men. You saw your dead father, did you not? Did you see his corpse and immediately say he must have been killed by a Greek? No, you did not. People die. They just stop living all of the time, day or night, with Alexander as king or not."

"Cassander!"

"If you walk out this wing with me," Cassander said upon reaching his exit, "fine. But you have to be with me. If you have so many concerns and worries, then go and tell your precious Alexander. Let us see what he will do then. I wonder. Does he have faith in me, or, does he reject you once more?"

"I don't know what you are referring too."

"Yes you do," quipped Cassander as he stepped out of the hall. Hephaestion still stared at him. "He's a young dark haired gift that kneels and bends on command. Must I say more?"

"You're no better than swine."

"Coming?"

Hephaestion continued to stand there for a moment. He couldn't believe he was considering this. Yet, one image haunted him. If anything were to happen to Alexander, he would have nothing else. He took in a deep breath and then followed Cassander. In the back of his mind he knew this was wrong. However, to do nothing was just as wrong. Perhaps if he went with Cassander he could speak some more sense into him. It was doubtful, yet, it was worth a try. Darkness instantly swallowed him. It was as good a shroud as any. Hephaestion's eyes adjusted and he searched for Cassander. After a moment, he spotted Cassander's silhouette. Edging closer, he glanced around, but already knew there would be no one in the courtyard at this hour. No one was up at this time of night, unless they were too drunk to stand, or in the harem it seemed.

"Nice to see you," Cassander said sarcastically as Hephaestion came up beside him. Hephaestion did not know what to do with him. Some of the time, he believed that Cassander did have a mind. At other times, such as this one, it would appear as if he was not. However, that was what Cassander wanted. Smirking, he looked over at Hephaestion and pulled a dagger from his side. He held it out to Hephaestion, who merely stared at him. Cassander grabbed his wrist and forced the blade into his hand. Hephaestion withdrew his hand, the blade with it.

"Do not worry," Cassander told him, laughing slightly. It was strange to him that Hephaestion was a general at all. He couldn't even think of killing. Yet, he supposed this was different. "You won't kill anyone. I'll do it. I just want you to have some protection, should you need it."

"Cassander, this is absurdity."

"Compelling, is it not," he asked in a rhetorical tone. "Doesn't it make you feel alive, knowing that there are others that soon will be dead?"

"Cassander please, for once. Can you not do anything diplomatically? What if the information is wrong and you end up killing an innocent man? Cassander will you slow down a moment and be reasonable!"

"We have done this already Hephaestion. Threats are annihilated for the better of an empire all the time. This time will be no different. There is nothing you can do to change my mind. Now, be quiet, or I will make you silent in a way that I'm sure you would not agree with."

"You don't even care that you could be wrong, do you?"

"What did they teach you in Athens? You poor thing. Are all of the rumors true? Could it be true that they tell you all men have innocence in them? Let me tell you something Hephaestion," Cassander said as they entered the deadened dirt pathway that the Persians called a side road. They should have paved them all with their fancy cobblestone and tile. It would have been more appreciated. "Know this, Hephaestion, for I speak from experience. There is not a single man that is innocent of anything. Incorruptibility does not exist, for one, because we can all be swayed by at least one thing. I by power, as you know, and you by your love for Alexander are corruptible. By loving him, you bend to his will, do you not? Virtue and purity are soiled in wars, soiled by greed, by lust, by all of the things that we as mortals crave so much. Men are never innocent. They are just men that have not been seen in their true state. If this man has not planned anything, then we will not give him the chance to. If he has not, then he's wronged others to give up his name. No matter what Hephaestion every man that we have ever killed, and ever shall kill, is guilty. Of what, perhaps we will never know, but of something."

Cassander said nothing more. There was not time to say anything more. Hephaestion felt his grip on the dagger in his hand tighten in fear as Cassander paused before a door, covered by a purple drape. Hephaestion would have told him that this could be the wrong home. Yet, they both knew the same fact. To hang a royal drape over a door meant only one thing under Darius' rule. It meant death to any that were not in his militia, his closest guards. All knew that such guards had resided in a wing of the palace. Therefore, this could be the only home with a purple drape. Still, Hephaestion stared at Cassander, his eyes pleading. Cassander took a step closer, leaned in, and pressed his lips quickly against Hephaestion's.

"He," Cassander then whispered in his ear, holding his shoulder tightly to keep him from moving away. "He is the only weakness you have. Come, Hephaestion, be corruptible now for him in a paramount way."

Cassander let him go then, knowing that he would follow him into the home. He did not have to check over his shoulder. He simply knew that Hephaestion had a moral standing unlike any other he had ever known. Wrong or right, Hephaestion would follow Cassander into this dwelling because he could not leave Cassander alone. He would pursue him because he could not leave him in possible peril. They were a brotherhood in such, as Companions, because they had vowed to stick together –even if the vow was never spoken. It was just known, respected, and even Hephaestion stuck to it. He followed him into the dark, dank dwelling and froze. Just because he entered did not make this right, did not change his mind, and did not make him a killer. Cassander, on the other hand, had come here for only one thing. Instantly, Cassander grabbed a startled man and threw him against a hard packed dirt wall. Hephaestion took an uneasy step back, hearing something that he could not yet identify.

"Cassander," Hephaestion said quietly as he glanced over his shoulder. He then turned his head back as Cassander slit the throat of the man. Only then did Cassander look up in his direction. He too then paused, but instead of freezing as Hephaestion had, he smirked. He found it a comfort, really, knowing that they would be able to kill all of these betrayers at once since they were all already there. It must have been their meeting night. Hephaestion, on the other hand, would have appreciated it if there were not daggers pointed at him from all sides.

"Well," Cassander said, knowing these men would not understand the Greek he was speaking to Hephaestion. "I think its time you find yourself on my side, Hephaestion."

Hephaestion glared at him for a moment before he gripped the dagger at his side as hard as he could. His knuckled were white, his jaw clenched, and then he acted. In a swift and fluid motion he lunged to the man closest his left, knocking him back with unexpected force. Hephaestion slammed the blade into the man's throat, jerked his hand back, and rolled to the side. Cassander, ready for this sort of a confrontation, lunged at the men as well. Within moments, only two remained standing. Cassander and Hephaestion were both covered in blood, and breathing heavily from their struggles. Hephaestion still held the dagger that Cassander had given him. Glancing over at Cassander, he shoved the weapon at him. Cassander took it back with a laugh.

"Alright," he teased. "So you did have to kill some of these rats. Forgive me; I spoke too soon when I said you would not have to."

"And you wonder why even your friends hate you," Hephaestion said as he hastened out of the dwelling. It was a good thing that it was dark, for no one would be able to see they were soaked in blood. There was also, luckily, no one else to see them. Cassander still laughed behind him, not a laugh of joy, but rather a despicable laugh of a man that found too much pleasure in death.

"You are not mad at me," Cassander disagreed as they entered the palace halls. He'd said nothing else on the way back. Hephaestion walked, almost jogged really, as if he were a man chased by Furies. "You are mad at the prospect that perhaps you too can see that killing is fine, when needed."

"We never speak of this," was all that Hephaestion said. Cassander stopped and watched him go. He then smiled. Perhaps, one day, Hephaestion too could be just a bit like him. He'd like him a lot more then. Not to mention, he'd be slightly proud of the whelp.

Hephaestion continued to scrub at the blood on the chiton. He had a terrible feeling that it would never come out. He'd have to find a way to get another one without explaining to Alexander what had happened. It was almost more than he could take, because it was the only unstained chiton he had. There was a knock at his door and he quickly tossed the chiton back into the water. Sighing, tired and weak from the night before, he went to the door and pulled it open. As he did, Alexander's eyes met his. Hephaestion let him in, fearing for a moment what he knew.

"I'm sorry for last night," Alexander said as he reached out for him. Hephaestion didn't move. Nor could he blame Alexander for the previous night. Alexander kissed him softly, something that Hephaestion wanted. He needed the closeness. Alexander pulled away though, and went to sit on the bed.

"Where were you." He then asked him. "I came here, looking for you."

"There were some things that I needed to attend to," Hephaestion told him. He knew that it was not a complete lie. Alexander continued to look at him though. Hephaestion said nothing, just continued to look at him. Alexander then smiled knowingly.

"Hephaestion, I already know. When I woke this morning the first thing that needed my immediate attention was the fact that twelve men were killed last night."

"Over what?"

"You never could lie well," Alexander said with a slight laugh. "I know where you and Cassander were. Well, I knew where he was. You, on the other hand, I would not have suspected."

"What did Cassander say," Hephaestion asked. Alexander shook his head as he rose and approached him. Alexander placed a hand on Hephaestion's thigh where he'd missed a line of dried blood. Still staring into cerulean depths, he wiped the dried flakes away, and then pressed a kiss to Hephaestion's cheek.

"He didn't have to," were Alexander's final words before he drew Hephaestion into a warm embrace. "He's never had to."

ENFIN

A/N: Hope you all enjoyed. Thank you for reading. Drop a comment if you have time.