Battle for the Hindu Kush Chapter 3: Hephaestion's View, an alexander fanfic

Title: "Battle for the Hindu Kush"

Author: Baliansword

Rating: T for Teen

Chapter: 3 of 9, "Hephaestion's View"

Pairings: Alexander / Hephaestion

Summary: Following the movie, what happens during and after the infamous battle for the Hindu Kush, with extra history hopefully thrown in. It shall present four different views, or angles, of this battle. It will end with Alexander's decision to return home.

Warnings: Mild language, sexual content, and violent battle scenes.

A/N: Welcome back everyone. Here I go again! I said that I would write something that was longer. This, hopefully, shall suffice.

Dedication: HavenRain, who is a fan.

H/N: This takes place during the battle for the Hindu Kush. If you are following the movie, it is the battle with the elephants.

Hephaestion's View of the Battle (but not a PoV)

At the beginning, the battles were not as rough as these. Yes, there were difficult times, but it was not as dangerous. At least, when he was a younger man, he thought such. Perhaps the battles were always this terrible. Maybe he merely did not know it back then. His horse did not move beneath him, but its nostrils flared as it sniffed the air. Never before had the horse behaved this way, and Hephaestion glanced down at him. He placed a hand on the stallion's neck and stroked him for a moment. But suddenly the horse jerked back, letting out a neigh of fear, and tried to spin in the opposite direction. Hephaestion held tightly to the reins though, and peered into the depths of the forest. What was it that caused the stallion to do this?

As he glanced around him, he noticed that other horses were beginning to jerk sideways in the same way. Even Cassander was having trouble keeping his horse still. However, he was managing to do so. Hephaestion stopped looking in the direction of what he could not see and instead glanced in Alexander's direction. For a moment he could not see him, and his heart stopped, but then he spotted the plume of his helmet. Alexander was leaning to the side, speaking to Bucephalus it would appear. Hephaestion watched as the horse began to take a few steps forward. In that instant, he stopped breathing.

"Alexander," he screamed out. The first time he merely wanted to get his attention. He wanted to tell him of the trouble they were having with the horses. Startled horses led to startled men, and a scared army could not do much in battle. Alexander did not need to start out yet. They should wait, as they had planned to do. It was then that Hephaestion, turning his head slightly, saw what it was that the horses feared so much.

He saw the great beasts that crushed men as if they were trees, which, they made their way over as well. Hephaestion gripped the reins of his steed tighter as the animal tried to move again. The horse was as frightened as the Macedonian soldiers that were on the ground. Hephaestion immediately glanced over to where Alexander had been just a moment before. Bucephalus was still slowly edging forward as Alexander asked him to do so. This time when he screamed for Alexander, it was in fear. He could not lose him here.

"Hold your ranks," Hephaestion called out. There was something in him that was born to lead, something that he had never seen before. Alexander had found it though, and alas, he had appointed him to a rank above others that were older and just as qualified. Even in this time of crisis he turned to the men, telling them what to do. Should they be afraid, yes, and he did not tell them not to. Perhaps they would fight better if it was in their heads that they were fighting for their lives. Hephaestion feared for them, but at the same time, he knew that Alexander was the one to worry for. Alexander would hold nothing back.

As he turned back to study the field, already being covered in blood, a memory flashed through his mind. He'd not thought of it, it just appeared. He remember Babylon, and standing on a balcony beside Alexander. He'd asked him what he ran from, and had assumed it was his mother that he hid from, putting all these miles between them. Yes, it was that. But for the first time Hephaestion understood why he was so willing to fight these battles, with methods that had never been practiced, or even heard of. He was not running from his mother. Instead, he was seeking death. Killing himself would have no glory, but if he died on a field, then all was well. He was doing it now. He was not facing the impossible because he had the hopes of winning, he had hopes of dying.

"Alexander," he cried out again as he kicked the horse. The horse did not obey his commands though. Instead it tried to move to any side, back and forth, but far away from the elephant beasts that were now picking men up and crushing them against trees and the ground. The screams of these men only made the horse worse off; it made them all worse off.

Hephaestion saw Alexander, upon Bucephalus, as they began to break through men fighting for the Kush. His heart beat faster, and panic came over him. He fought for only one thing in the world. He did not want land, nor power, glory, or wealth. Should his name be lost to history, which would be fine, perhaps even better. He fought only for Alexander, in love, because it was all that Alexander asked of him. He'd given him his heart, and in that, he'd given him this duty. He did not want to lose him. No, he knew that he could not lose him. Something came over him suddenly then. It was fury mixed with concern, to an extent he'd never felt before, and instantly he kicked the horse so hard in the side that it lunged forward. Finally, the horse obeyed, its fright merely making it faster and wilder.

"Alexander," he screamed. It took a moment, but finally the other generals were able to force their horses forward. The men came as well, taking the generals' movement as a sign. They lost some of their fear merely because of a few men riding forward, their king, and their generals. Hephaestion was not impressed with Cassander and Ptolemy's movements though. He cared only for his own. He must protect Alexander, not only from the other warriors, but from himself. He would do anything in his power to do so.

Drawing his sword, he quickly began to cut deeply into men that he passed. Yet there was something that he did not expect. By the time he saw the trunk of the elephant it was too late. There was nothing that any man could have done. Suddenly, he was flying through the air. He did not scream, for all of the breath in his body escaped him, but the horse did. It gave one final cry before hitting the ground. It struggled for a moment, and in doing so, unpinned Hephaestion's thigh from beneath its belly. Yet as it tried to rise it slipped on bloody leaves, falling once more, and this time breaking its own neck. Hephaestion lay there for a moment after the stallion's death. Only then did he try to move. Even before he knew how bad his injuries were, he felt the stinging pain.

As he looked down, he noticed that his vision blurred. This was not all though. He saw his thigh, the deep cut across it, and knew that it was deep. It took almost all of the strength he had left in his body to try to breathe. He couldn't reach for the wound as he would have, for he felt his body breaking beneath him. He coughed as he tried to reach for the wound, and fell onto his back when he could not. He could still hear screams around him, some of joy, and some of pain. It felt like years before finally he heard a trumpet. He was not sure what side it came from. He could only hope that it was his.

"Alexander," he whispered. He had failed him. He had not protected him as he had vowed to do, not only to himself, but to Ares. Hephaestion drew in a pained breath and then tried to push himself up once more. He could not stand, but, he had the strength to pull his body forward. He managed to drag himself a few inches before he fell to the ground. He could not move more, his body was crying in pain. But it was his mind that told him he must go on. Finally, he could see who had called the retreat. There were elephants on the ground, dying and bloody, and the rest were leaving with running men, which were being chased by Macedonian and Greek runners. They had won. For a moment, he almost smiled, but before he could do so he saw a line of men forming. Something was terribly wrong.

A tremor, as if lighting had struck him, crept down his spine. He dropped his head, and when he glanced up, he saw Alexander. He was upon the shield of Achilles, which was said to be good luck, if not just strong steel. Alexander stared back at him, obviously wounded. Hephaestion tried to push himself up. He wanted to be with him, so badly. He wanted to comfort him. He wanted to tell him that it was alright. But, before he could make an attempt to move, Alexander was gone and he had nothing but bloody soil to comfort him. As soon as he knew that Alexander could not see him, he cried. He continued to cry until he could not any more, from the pain. By then, there was a medic at his side, as well as Cassander. When he opened his eyes he first saw Cassander. It was odd, seeing him, for he was the last person he expected to see.

"It looks like we have to save you," Cassander teased, even now. He reached over and took Hephaestion's hand in his own. It was the first time he had ever shown concern for him. Hephaestion would never forget this either. Cassander continued to look down at him before he placed a hand on Hephaestion's forehead. "Close your eyes. You'll be up again before you know it."

Hephaestion wondered why he felt as if he could listen to him. Perhaps it was the single tear in the corner of Cassander's eye. Never before had he seen Cassander even close to tears. No, perhaps he was seeing things. Everything was still rather hazy. There could be no tear there. Then the medic looked up at Hephaestion. His hands and face were bloody, from tending wounds. It was not that which scared him. Instead, it was the complete look of confusion, as if he did not know what he was doing. Either that, or it was worse than either Hephaestion thought it was. Was he going to die?

He could not help but wonder. For the first time, he truly contemplated it as if he thought it was real. Before, he knew that he would die before Alexander. That he'd never questioned. Yet, this was not how he had foreseen it. He'd imagined they would die old together, as Alexander had always assured him. This was definitely not dying old together. It was then that he forgot about himself, and instead, wanted to know of Alexander.

"Alexander," he whispered.

"He will be fine," Cassander assured him, and this he believed. "Just rest now Hephaestion. Rest, for he will want you well. Please, close your eyes."

Hephaestion did, knowing that if he kept staring at Cassander, the other would break into tears. This, he knew, they could not have. He did not want his perception of Cassander marred after all these years. So, he let a world of blackness come over him, and he soundly slept. Blackness was better than the pain anyway.

A/N: Let me know what you think! Really, I am not trying to rip out anyone's heart!