The Girl Between the Two Seas

Part 2: A Man Named Alexander

One day Grandpa Persia didn't come home. Iran had prepared a warm dinner and was brewing some tea when she heard banging on the door. Opening the door brought her face to face with a squadron of soldiers in the Greek army attire and the tip of a spear pointed at her throat. A young man on a white horse held the other end of the spear and was staring down at her, his body blocking the light of the late afternoon sun.

He said, "I have defeated your army and conquered your land. Surrender or be prepared to die."
Iran looked up at him. "Where is my grandfather?" She asked. Yet she forgot her question as soon as she saw a group of soldiers carrying the unconscious body of Grandpa Persia toward her.

"Like I said, I defeated him. Your land is mine now. Surrender to me and I let you live."

Iran rushed to the side of her grandfather and helped them carry him inside. She tended to him as soldiers poured into the house and began turning things around and picking rooms. She splashed some water into Persia's face and saw his eyes quiver. It made her relax as she knew he was alive and safe. She looked at the commotion happening in her house and stood up and walked into the kitchen.

An hour later the man and his commanders where lounging on the chairs in the yard when she left the porch and walked toward them. She had a tray in her hands and walked slowly, careful to avoid the mess that was the result of their horses trotting through her garden. Once she was there she waited until the young man turned his eyes toward her. There was a moment when their eyes met and she felt a rush go through her looking at his eyes; they were the strangest she had seen to date. Not just the color – one blue and one brown – but the sharp way he looked at things as if seeing through them. She didn't say a word but knew that there was something about this man that would change things for her forever.

The man spoke then. "My name is Alexander. I am the king of Macedonia and Greece."

She nodded her head in respect. "I am Iran, granddaughter of Persia. Pleased to meet you."

Alexander scrutinized her with a haughty look. "I have heard about you, granddaughter of Persia. You should know I am your boss now, and you must do whatever I say. Go and serve food and drinks to my soldiers and make sure they are cared for."

"It's already done," she said and placed the tray on the table.

Alexander stared at it in surprise. "You mean you already gave food to my soldiers? Who told you to do that?"

"Nobody. They are guests in my house and it is Persian tradition to serve our guests and make sure they feel welcome. This is your food." She motioned toward the tray. "Please enjoy." And she left for the house.

Alexander watched her go with awe in his eyes.

Alexander had promised to move on after he had conquered Persia. His goal had been to conquer the empire and prove to himself and the rest of the world that – unlike popular belief - it was possible to do so. However he found himself staying in Persia's house, disinclined to leave. Iran wouldn't say anything; just kept serving and taking care of him and the soldiers like ordinary guests. She also nursed Grandpa Persia to good health and explained to him the situation. He hugged her close and thanked her for her patience, whispering to her that he would get rid of the intruders as soon as he felt better. Iran just nodded and didn't say anything.

Later on she took Alexander to the sea and showed him her favorite place where she got the flowers. Alexander was mesmerized by the beauty of it all. Together they looked for spring lilies and daisies and he made a special crown for her to place over her head.

Over the next weeks Alexander moved his soldiers out of Persia's house and to their own camp which they set up in a field, thus giving Iran and her grandfather their much needed desired privacy. Yet he kept coming back to the house and Iran would not object. She would cook him his favorite Persian dishes and bake cookies and treats as he stood and watched. Alexander no longer wore his military uniform in her presence; in fact he had stopped acting like a military man in front of her a long time ago. She too began to realize that she had fun having him around, his unique brand of humor, his ambitious personality, and the things he told her about his many adventures really amused her. Iran had never left her house and although she loved the land between the two seas she also enjoyed hearing about other places in the world.

"I think I'd like to wear some normal clothes now," Alexander said one day.

"I may have some for you, but they are the Persian style," Iran said.

"I don't mind."

Alexander stood still as Iran put the clothes on him. He looked relaxed and much more handsome without the rough and ragged shirts he had worn all through his campaign. One could say he looked domestic, at home.

"This looks good on you," Iran said as she finished folding the sleeves. Alexander's eyes were glued to his image in the mirror and it shocked her when his hand suddenly tightened on her wrist. He pulled her close and looked her deep in the eye. "Thank you," he said, his face too close to be comfortable.

Neither can remember if that was when their first kiss happened.

Months passed, years perhaps. They didn't know. Alexander lived at Iran's house. He wore Persian clothes, ate Persian food, listened and danced to the native music. Iran was in love. She sat with him as they both enjoyed the view of the sunset and talked about their dreams. Grandpa Persia had been angry at first; he wanted the Macedonian out of his house. But once he saw how he had changed – he now looked more Persian than anything else – and how much Iran loved him he relented. He moved out however and wouldn't come to the house that often.

The Greek soldiers were a different matter. Some of them had settled too and taken Persian wives. Others were becoming restless. They didn't like to see their king dressed in foreign garbs holding hands with the conquered nation. They raised objections, threw tantrums and started riots. Alexander lashed back and punished his men for their disobedience. Iran never liked those conflicts. It frightened her that the soldiers might hurt her people out of spite. Worse, she worried they might convince Alexander to leave.

One day at sunset they were sitting on the shore as usual and the birds were getting ready for their winter migration. Iran sat with her back against Alexander's chest feeling at peace. He had made her a new flower circlet for her hair, this time with lilacs and yarrows. He rested his chin on top of her head and was running his fingers through her hair when he suddenly asked, "Do you know India?"

Iran felt startled at the question but hid it carefully. "I've heard of her," she responded.

"What is she like? Do you know?"

"She is…wild, I guess. At least that's what the merchants say. Some say she is a goddess, with multiple arms. Some say she is a vixen. But I think she's just a woman, like me."

Alexander just nodded, but the way he breathed in told her something she didn't like. They'd been together long enough for her to sense his moods somewhat accurately.

She leaned forward and turned to face him. "You're not thinking of going to her, are you?" she asked.

He rubbed his face. "I don't know. That was the original plan you know, before I met you."

"But… I thought you said your plan was to conquer Persia."

"Asia," he corrected, "I wanted to go to the very end."

Something dropped in her stomach and sat heavy there. "But you're not going to do it now, are you? It's dangerous there. People tell crazy stories about that land."

"I know…I know. It was just a thought."

She nodded and turned to lean back against him again. Still the little voice in the back of her head kept murmuring that something important was about to change.

She pretended not to notice when his military uniform went missing. Later when she was in the yard tending to her herbs she pretended not to hear the hooves clopping behind her.

She couldn't ignore it however once he began speaking to her.

"I'm leaving for India," he said.

She looked up and saw him in his full military splendor against a backdrop of clear skies and army men. Her heart clenched, knowing nothing she would say would change his mind. So she simply asked, "Will you be back?"

"Of course," he shook his head, laughing, "what a silly question. I belong here. This is my home as much as Macedonia is. I'm only going on a quick excursion. I'll give your regards to India and bring you nice things. I promise."

He bent down and gave her a kiss on top of her head, stroking the flowers and locks with his hand. She could see in his eyes that he would miss her, but also that there was a fire that wouldn't be quenched unless he went. So she reached into her pocket and brought out a necklace that she placed around his neck. "To remember me by when you are away," she whispered and turned back to the sprouts that had just peaked through the wet soil.

Alexander left. Iran kept to her heart his promise of coming back soon and waited patiently.

After two years he did.

She heard the horses coming from the south long before they appeared. Rushing out of her house she stood on a hill and waited for the horses' heads to peak over the banks. She didn't notice she was holding her breath.

The anticipation ended once she saw him. It was him, of that she was sure, but he was different. He had changed so much, looking thin, beaten, his hunched over form on the horse more like an old man than a victorious commander.

He was wounded too. She noticed it as she helped him off the horse and saw him limping. She helped him to the house and lay him down on his bed, making sure he was comfortable and his wounded ankle was looked after. He wasn't looking at her. Instead he was staring off into space and that brave, daring look always lighting up his eyes was absent. She came back with a bowl of broth and tried to make him eat. She tried even harder not to show her sadness.

"They rode on giant beasts," he finally said.

She shook her head. She had hard about that. 'Elephants' was what they were called and India always liked to flaunt them.

"They trampled my men. We never had a chance. They had teeth as long as a man's arm and pierced my soldier's bodies with them. The men were so scared. It was so unfair. I simply wanted to talk to her, to see what she was like. But she stood back and just laughed as her men gutted and stomped over my soldiers."

He began to cough and she poured him a cup of water. He drank greedily and leaned back against the pillows, that faraway look coming back to his eyes.

"She was so cold, so heartless, even in all that heat. It was so hot out there. Not the good heat we have here in the south. It was a moist, slimy heat, the kind full of mud and sweat and mosquitoes. A lot of my men got sick and died. And we hadn't even reached our opponents yet."

Iran put a hand over his forehead and told him to rest. She was lost for words. What could she really say? I told you? But it was already too late. She could see the embers dying in his eyes. Alexander was the conqueror of the worlds. He didn't know defeat. She knew what was killing him was not the diseases or the wound in his leg. He was dying because he had finally lost.

She placed flowers on his grave after he died. She cried but her tears were mostly silent. She didn't want her people to see how much she cared for a man who had invaded their empire and made it part of his territory. There was another side to the story that no one would see. The tale of a conqueror who had enter a land bent on destroying it only to fall in love with it and make it his home. For that she wept for him and for that she considered him one of her own.

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The story of Alexander the Great is an interesting one. He and his successors were invaders of Persia yet they were all deeply affected by the civilization and culture of the people they had conquered. Alexander in particular was completely enthralled. He took two Persian wives and changed a big part of his lifestyle to the Persian way, to the point that it began to irritate his soldiers. If it weren't for his ambitious nature, and the fact that he was always curious about what was next he might have led a happy life in Persia and returned much sooner to his homeland. Sadly it never happened.

One more part about the ancient days before the hetalia characters begin to show up.