χορεύω Chapter 4: Days to Come, an alexander fanfic

Title: χορεύω

Author: Baliansword

Chapter: 4, "Days to Come"

Rating: T for Teen

Summary: Divisions are easily made, and hearts are easily changed. In Persia this seems all the more true after Alexander receives Bagoas. Hephaestion carries the burden of knowing that his love has found another, and when they reach Bactra it is no better. Yet in his enemies Hephaestion may find the greatest allies of all.

A/N: Sorry for not posting sooner! I enjoyed getting all of my comments when I got back online though. Thanks, and as always I'll address everyone at the end of this posting.

In the days to come things did not change as Alexander would have hoped they had. Nothing seemed to change at all in fact. Hephaestion still seemed to be avoiding him, whether he truly meant to or not. It seemed and felt as if he had not seen him in years. In the past week he had only managed to see Hephaestion twice. Both times were not pleasant either. Hephaestion sat across the dark wooden table, his features like sculpted stone it seemed, as delegates deliberated about the coming campaigns. In all of his years Alexander had found delegations the most entertaining when it came to the regiments. He liked putting the generals in their places if they defied him, but this time he found no pleasure in it. Hephaestion was not at his side, and he never spoke. He did not agree with anything, nor did he disagree. Silence took on a new meaning. So yes, he had seen him only twice, but Hephaestion had not uttered a word to him. Still, Alexander found himself longing to understand what it was that had made Hephaestion so angry with him. Already he had been given advice from Ptolemy, which was to confront Hephaestion directly and ask him what was angering him. They both seemed to know that it had to do with Alexander's new choices in lovers. It was not that Hephaestion was jealous, according to Ptolemy, but that for the first time he was beginning to worry about his status. Alexander recalled laughing almost, and he told Ptolemy that no one would ever be able to replace Hephaestion. Hephaestion surely knew this, for how could he not? Still, he had not confronted Hephaestion for many reasons.

To begin, Alexander had not yet found the time to speak with him. He could have made time, yes, but not enough. He did not want to have such a conversation in a hallway, passing from one meeting to another. No, he wanted it to be so much more. He wanted Hephaestion to understand that he was still the only one that captivated his heart. His wife did not hold his heart, nor did Bagoas. It was not only time that came between them though. In truth for the first time he was confused, and scared even, and had no one to turn to. Whenever he had a problem that he could not solve himself he would speak to Hephaestion. But how could he do this now when Hephaestion would not so much as look at him unless he needed to. Also, he wondered how Hephaestion could so easily turn away from him.

For a week there were no words, no explanations, and only silence. Alexander had done nothing, nothing at all, that he would have done otherwise. He went to Roxanne on one of these nights, but had to leave before he could even begin to try to consummate an heir. He was not in the mood, and he could not force himself to pleasure a woman that he did not want. No, he wanted the one thing that he did not have. He wanted Hephaestion, more than ever, and he did not even lust for him. He just wanted him, wanted him to speak with, to share his thoughts with. He wanted Hephaestion to tell him what he thought, about anything, and wanted for Hephaestion to trust him with his heart once more. No, nothing had changed. Nothing had changed, but at the same time, everything changed.

Hephaestion, on the other hand, was struggling through each day. He knew that each day was a new challenge. That was all that he needed to know though. Without Alexander things were different, for it seemed as if he had just been reborn to a world that he did not understand. But there were some things that were keeping him going through each and every day. Most of all, he wanted to finish the rest of his map. It was his pride, this map, that he was working on when he heard a knock at the door. Slowly he glanced over his shoulder, wondering who it could be, and waited. There was another knock, so he stood, and went to the door. When he pulled it open his mouth fell, and he drew in his breath. Holding the door open the queen stepped passed him. Her chocolate eyes scanned the room, like a vulture searching desert plains for a carcass. Hephaestion, still unsure of why she was here, shut the door. This caused her to look over her shoulder, but she then sat down as if this was her own room.

"Has Alexander sent you," Hephaestion asked, before he could catch his tongue. Sometimes his thoughts ran away from him. He stepped around the table though, sat, and gazed at Roxanne. She smiled slightly and then shook her head. Leaning forward she picked up a cup of wine, which Hephaestion had left there for two days now, and peered inside of it. Feeling confident enough with the drink she took a sip, and then set it down.

"I have not seen my husband today," she told him. Her accent was thick, but something about the way she spoke could interest even Hephaestion. For the first time he truly looked at her, up close, and held nothing against her. Without holding anything against her he could see that perhaps she was beautiful. Her eyes were large, bright, but dark as well. The complexion of her skin brought out the red in her lips, and her nose, while different from other cultures, was still feminine. She was delicate, but he could still see the beastly harlot that hid beneath the surface. Yes, he saw why Alexander was drawn to her. It was not her looks, but that character that hid beneath her. Lurking deep within her core was Alexander's mother, Olympias. Aristotle had told him once that men married their mothers, and he could see it now.

"Then how can I help you, Milady," Hephaestion asked softly. He knew his place, and it was beneath her. It felt odd addressing her as an equal, let alone as his queen. She scoffed at the title though. Her nose wrinkled as soon as he had said it.

"Roxanne," was her initial reply. She seemed to be looking around the room, and Hephaestion stood. He picked up a pitcher of water and prepared her a refreshment. He handed it to her gently, and she sipped the water. After he sat she seemed to calm once more, then went on. "I have a proposition for you, something that you may like."

"Does it involve papyrus?"

"Papyrus," she asked.

"Never mind," he told her. "At the moment I am not in the best of moods. But tell me, what can I do for you Roxanne?"

"There is a passion that I have," she began. Her words caught, for her Greek was still not perfected. Hephaestion did not once seem as if he did not understand her. He stared at her silently, completely aware of her point. Had he not understood she would not have known. His eyes never shifted, and his lips never moved. "I dance, at the feasts for welcome. When I dance, it soothes me, and it used to be desirable. You understand?"

"I would stop you if I did not," Hephaestion assured her. He continued to stare at her as if she were no different from any other woman he had met. He viewed her not necessarily as a queen, but instead he viewed her as if she were a foreign diplomat of sorts. She was hired for a position, almost. The only difference was that he knew it would be impossible to get rid of her.

"Alexander will let me dance," she went on, "at the next festival for the goddess. I want to dance."

"If he is letting you then I am afraid I do not see the problem."

"The dance has two, I and a man. Alexander will not do the dance, nor would he based on his position. I, as queen, am not supposed to dance. It is a special occasion, my last dance. I need the man though to dance."

"I am sure that there are plenty of male dancers in Bactra. If not, look to the Persian ranks. A good half of the youth were trained in the ways of music and dance. Do not go yourself though. Send Bagoas, or one of your men, to ask the other generals. Ask Ptolemy, he has a grand legion filed with dancing Persians."

"No," she said. "I want you to dance."

"χορεύω," he coughed. He then shook his head, still laughing. He stood and then went to pour himself a drink. Instead of water he poured a cup of wine. It was watered down to almost nothing, but she did not know that. "I fear that you have the wrong idea about me Milady. I am a general, a warrior, nothing more."

"You dance," Roxanne said, her eyes tracing over him. She lifted a hand and pointed at him. "You have eyes that dance, the color of the ocean. They dance around the room, just as you would if you would dance."

"No," he said. "I do not dance. I am sorry, but you should find another."

"There is no other," she told him as she glanced down at her hands, which were now folded on her lap. When she glanced back up at him, he saw her pain. "They do not like me, your people. The others are no better. They hate me for what I am, and for being his wife. Even you hate me, and I can tell my lord, but you are kind. You are kind because you, before I, were outcast. They are with you now, your friends, but only because of I and Bagoas. Were we not here, you would be in my position once more. I need you."

Hephaestion drew in a breath. How could he deny her if she truly needed him? As he thought about it he shook his head. There was no way that he was worthy of dancing. Not only was he a general, but he could not dance.

"I cannot."

"Tonight," she said, standing. He had to give her credit for not taking no as an answer. "When dinner is over, you can find me in the hall. It is by the path less followed. You know it. Alexander took you there when you first arrived. One night is what I ask. If after tonight still you say no, then there will be no dance. I will not hold it against you."

Night had fallen, and it was not much different from the day. A cool chill swept through the halls, causing the drapes to be closed. Hephaestion did not say much at dinner to anyone, let alone Alexander. Once again he was aware that Bagoas seemed to be keeping an eye on him. However, he tried not to think of that. He had other things on his mind. As he turned the corner he paused. The sound of a flute drifted through the silence of the night. Upon turning the corner he stopped and listened for a moment. Slowly he approached.

The light that lit up the small area came from candles, and a few torches that were wielded to the wall. Hephaestion came closer, until he knew that if he edged any further he would be seen. As he stopped he leaned against a pillar and stared as Roxanne lifted a long arm with the rhythm of the flute. Her hand curved, like the neck of a swan, and she moved slowly. Her movements were slow and graceful for a few moments, but with a sudden movement the tempo changed. Her movements became quick, jerking almost, and immediately he remembered the first day that he saw her dance. This was close to the dance that she'd done to enrapture Alexander. Whatever she was doing he would never be able to do. Just as he was about to turn, to leave as his mind was telling him to do, the music stopped.

"You can come into the light," Roxanne told him. He could have pretended that he did not hear her, but he knew she was entirely aware of him. It was odd, how her voice made him pause. She was of no relevance to him, nothing at all to him really, but here he was. He'd come, just as she had asked, and he feared that at any moment he would be dancing with her. Following her new instructions he stepped into the light, and his eyes glanced around the room. Immediately he caught sight of Bagoas, who did not in the slightest appear alarmed. Instead the eunuch set the flute down, then turned his back on the other two. Hephaestion turned his attention back to Roxanne.

"I cannot stay for but a moment," he lied. He defensively folded his arms over his broad chest, then cleared his throat. It was uncomfortable, to be so near her, yet so away from her in every other aspect. "I came to make sure that you were safe. You, as queen, should not be left unguarded. It is dangerous. It appears fine though, since most have drunken themselves into a coma."

"Your eyes call you a liar," she said quietly. "Your eyes dance already, Hephaestion, lover of Alexander. You were curious, which is why you came. I knew you would be."

"I am afraid you still have it wrong. I do not dance." He spotted Bagoas staring at him from the corner and added, "Especially not with him here."

"We mean you no harm," she assured him. She then took his hand in hers and upturned it. She traced the lines upon his palm, a slight smile tugging at the corner of her lips the entire time. "You are not what you appear. Deep down, you are not afraid."

"Try," she asked softly. "Try just once."

Hephaestion drew in a breath, but his voice would not come. Still he did not have a definite answer to give her. He scanned the room once more, then gave his answer.

A/N: A bit of a cliff hanger, I know. But thanks to the following reviewers!

Karone Evertree- Yes, he should be honored! However, I can see where Hephaestion was not a roamer. He kept his place, which was good.

Unski- Thanks!

Vania Hepskins- Bagoas is Alexander's loyal servant as well as his lover. Hephaestion knows this, and for the first time Alexander is beginning to see how this fact is coming between them.

Sunny-Seid-Up- Thanks for commenting, and yes, the chapters are a bit short. I would rather get them out in short chapters than not get them out in a timely fashion.

Phae15- Thank you for reviewing my stories. It is nice to know that you are enjoying my tales.

A Horse Called Hwin- Merci!

Yolass- Loved your review, thanks for making it so detailed. I hope you like this chapter as well.