Part XX
Given how long it had been since he had last seen it, Ptolemy was momentarily caught off guard to see the wide, content smile on Hephaestion's face. For the first time since his ordeal had begun, Hephaestion looked genuinely content and, as a result, so did Alexander. Whatever had passed between them that night by the spring, Ptolemy was exceedingly glad for it because, for the first time, he was beginning to believe that Hephaestion would recover himself.
"We were beginning to think that you had gone off to frolic with some woods nymphs and failed to invite us," Seleucus greeted the returning pair, grinning as he tossed an apple to Alexander.
"Were we supposed to invite you?" Alexander called back before taking a large bite from the apple.
"It would have been appreciated, yes."
Hephaestion remained silent, but his amusement was fairly obvious even if the expression did not wholly reach his eyes. In truth, Hephaestion had never been the one to laugh the longest or the loudest, his smile often far more telling. Hephaestion's features could be extremely informative so to see the relaxation in the lines of his face was a great relief. Perhaps he was finally doing what Ptolemy had always hoped he would and was speaking of his ordeal to Alexander. Some time had passed, his injuries were healing and the memory of what had been done to him would be the only true thing left to be purged from Hephaestion.
Even though Hephaestion seemed more at ease around them here then he had in either Illyria or Pella, his general reserve was not lost on Ptolemy. Of them all, Hephaestion had always been the calm one, more level-headed and quiet than the rest of t heir group. He was hardly dull, his quiet intensity fitting well with Alexander's more obvious temper. Alexander would let a person know when he considered them his enemy. Hephaestion, on the other hand, would lure that same person in, gain their trust and then strike when it was least expected. The only time Ptolemy could recall seeing Hephaestion's temper outright was when it had been Alexander who was slighted or placed in danger. For Hephaestion, Alexander always came first and Ptolemy suspected that was why Hephaestion was still alive. He would not have left Alexander at the mercy of his mad mother.
It had cost him, though. Hephaestion looked far older than his nineteen years, the weeks of captivity having changed him greatly. Even in the way he held himself while in a group. Since they had arrived, Ptolemy had noticed that Hephaestion never kept his back to anyone and when they were indoors there would always be a clear line between him and the door. Ptolemy preferred not to think of what the nights held for him.
Hephaestion had feigned sleep, knowing that Alexander would not rest until he did. Not wanting his beloved to suffer for his own troubled thoughts, Hephaestion had allowed his body to relax and his breathing to even out. A short while later Alexander had done the same. Hephaestion waited a half hour more before carefully sliding out of the bed, being as silent as he was able. Alexander stirred only once, but after a moment drifted back under.
For the past hour Hephaestion had stood at the window, occasionally shifting his weight from foot to foot as he stared at the silvery landscape below. There was no particular thought that had chased him from bed, just an inability to quiet his mind. Not wanting his restlessness to disturb Alexander he had gone to the window, hoping that the peaceful landscape would help soothe his mind. So far it had all proved to be in vain. All it did was make his legs ache standing still so long.
Glancing over his shoulder at a peacefully sleeping Alexander, Hephaestion sighed deeply, wishing that he could sleep so carelessly. It had been a long time since his sleep had been so unaffected and though he was grateful that Alexander's sleep was so restful, he was also envious and longed to share in that same sleep.
The chill from the window was beginning to make him uncomfortable so Hephaestion moved to the wall opposite the window where his cloak hung. Slipping it on over his bare shoulders, Hephaestion drew the warm cloth about him and silently exited the room.
Barefoot and naked beneath the cloak, it had not been Hephaestion's intention to leave the room. He only wanted to empty his mind of thoughts so that he could sleep.
Even the servants were abed in the early hours of the morning, the place utterly silent as Hephaestion wandered the grounds, coming at last to the rooms that had been Aristotle's. Hephaestion had fond memories of spending many late hours in those rooms talking with the philosopher or simply listening as the older man talked. Alexander had been with them many nights, but quite often it had been only him and Aristotle. Hephaestion had been fascinated by all of the things Aristotle had to tell him, the older man keen to have an enthusiastic audience no matter the hour.
"When he is king, Alexander will need to have about him men that he knows he can trust implicitly," Aristotle said to him one wet spring night. "I have no doubt that you will be chief among those men. Already Alexander looks to you before any other."
"We tell each other everything," Hephaestion volunteered. "He knows all of my secrets."
"As I am sure that you know all of his," Aristotle continued fondly. "A true friend, though, will never use those secrets for profit. He will instead guard them as securely as his own. That is the kind of solace Alexander will find in you. You will be the guardian of the man. Not necessarily his body—though I am sure you will do your best on that account—but to ensure that Alexander remains ever Alexander. That kingship does not turn him against his own nature."
He had been fifteen when Aristotle said those words to him, he and Alexander still in the beginnings of their love. Yet Aristotle had seen hints of, at that point, what Hephaestion had only dared to dream. And, in truth, Aristotle's words had partly terrified him. The burden that he had spoken of seemed colossal, the philosopher refusing to go into detail on just how Hephaestion was meant to keep Alexander from losing himself. At the time he had thought Aristotle purposely evasive, but time had allowed Hephaestion to see the truth of it. There was no one thing he needed to do.
"You are Hephaestion," was what Aristotle had said to him in all seriousness when their time at Mieza was at an end. "Men will belittle the simplicity of it because they do not understand. You are loved by Alexander because you are Hephaestion and for no other reason. Just as he is loved by you because he is Alexander. There is so much of the two of you that it twisted together that not even the best sailor could untangle all of the knots properly. So leave the knots tied together and simply be. You will be the better for it."
A year or so of disuse had left Aristotle's rooms looking utterly vacant. The warmth that he had once felt while sitting huddled with some new scroll from Athens lost. The moonlight was his only guide as Hephaestion had not thought to bring a lamp with him. The moonlight, though, was enough to guide him and Hephaestion sat down on the slightly musty bed. He did not have it in him to do more, his body's exhaustion winning out over his mind's ramblings. So though it had not been his intention, Hephaestion wrapped his cloak more securely about himself and stretched out on the bed.
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Alexander awoke with the knowledge that Hephaestion was not with him. Even before he was fully aware of his own body he knew that Hephaestion was missing, the information simply existing in his mind before he turned his head and saw that his love was no longer sleeping beside him. Sleeping in the same bed was meant to have prevented such things. He was to have felt it if Hephaestion decided to leave the bed. Swiveling his head about in hopes of seeing Hephaestion at the window was equally in vain.
Alexander swallowed the immediate surge of panic that filled him, reminding himself that Hephaestion was stronger now and able to protect himself. So while he was able to keep the panic at bay, Alexander knew that he would not be able to entirely ease his mind until he saw Hephaestion with his own eyes.
The sun was just beginning to rise over the distant hilltops, giving Alexander enough light to dress by. It was also enough light for him see that the chiton Hephaestion had been wearing the day before was still draped over the chest where he had left it. It was another moment before he realized that Hephaestion's cloak, if not his boots, were also absent so he was not entirely naked.
The air was still quite cool as Alexander wandered about the corridors in the dormitory. He could hear no one else about, but that was expected as they had all been up late in the dining hall drinking and talking. There were no women present except for the elderly cook and her daughter's none of which Alexander suspected would be pursued by his friends. So to compensate for the lack of pleasurable company, the others had all drunk a great deal to help keep themselves warm in their beds.
Once it was light enough to see, Alexander caught sight of his own breath hanging in the air. Used to such chill temperatures himself as a result of his time in Leonidas' care, Alexander could not help but worry for Hephaestion who was possibly wearing nothing more than his cloak. He hoped his love had not wandered too far during the night. That Hephaestion had left at all worried him. Alexander had hoped Hephaestion would wake him if his sleep became too troubled.
"Have you see Hephaestion in here?" Alexander asked Glaucus, one of the grooms as he crossed towards the stables. Even though half the paddock was still hidden from view, Alexander had no difficulty spotting Xanthus who was grazing near Bucephalas.
"No, my lord, there has been no one," the groom said with a quick shake of his head.
Alexander thanked the man and continued on his way. He did his best to reassure himself that Hephaestion was not in any danger; there were only so many places he could venture while barefoot. It was a feeble rational, but at the moment it was all that Alexander could do to reassure himself that his love was well. Mieza was not so dangerous as Pella, secluded as it was.
Halfway back to the main buildings, Alexander glanced up at the sky that was now more blue than grey. The others would be waking soon. As his gaze traveled downwards, it fell across a familiar window. One that he had spied Hephaestion through many times. All at once Alexander felt his body lighten, his worry subsiding.
As expected, when he silently pushed open the door to Aristotle's rooms a few minutes later, he immediately saw Hephaestion sleeping peacefully on the bed. Shedding his light cloak and boots in the outer room, Alexander moved quietly into the bedchamber, not wanting to disturb Hephaestion. It was still early enough that they could sleep a bit longer.
"Only me," Alexander murmured when he felt Hephaestion stir as he climbed onto the bed. "It is only me."
With only a quiet snuffle Hephaestion slipped back into a deeper sleep. For the time being Alexander pushed all thoughts of what had forced Hephaestion from their quarters out of his mind. Hephaestion was safe and resting peacefully. Alexander held Hephaestion close to him, breathing in that familiar scent as he allowed sleep to pull him under once again.
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Her darling Philip was an utter fool to believe that he could neutralize her by sending her to Epirus. Her brother would never hold any sway over her. Alexandros was weak and had been even as a child. It would not be difficult for her to dominate him. She simply would not be denied. Not even if it meant crushing her son's heart. Her sweet little Achilles would mourn for a time, but in the end would learn that it was better to be without love. It was only ever a hindrance.
"You do not even realize what you nearly did, do you?"
Olympias raised her head, scowling at the man who stood in the open doorway. "And just what is it that I have nearly done?"
"For all of your spies, you truly are blind when it comes to our son," Philip chuckled darkly. "If that boy had died, Alexander would have followed him soon after."
"His Athenian whore? Surely you jest. Amyntor's brat is simply a plaything that Alexander has yet to put away," she said to Philip with the utmost authority. "Before long he will see the sense in what I did and regret all the trouble he has gone through for that boy."
Shaking his head, Philip turned to leave. "You do not know Alexander at all." He looked over his shoulder, holding her gaze. "Whether you will see it or not, Alexander loves Hephaestion. This is not some passing fancy. All that you have done is made an enemy of our son. He will never trust you again."
"Alexander loves me. I am first in his heart."
To that Philip said nothing. He walked away without a word. The old sot would never turn her sweet boy against her. Neither would the little harlot. Alexander would never set another before her. He would remember that as soon as she got him away from the boy.
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It had been Nearchus idea to go hunting, one that all the others wholeheartedly agreed to. A few days hunting would do them all good. Alexander could easily see the tension that still lingered in Hephaestion and while hand to hand combat would likely be the best remedy even Hephaestion admitted that he was not yet fit enough for that. Hunting, though, was something they had all enjoyed while at Mieza in the past. It made for great distraction and allowed them to focus on something other than the reason they were currently at Mieza.
"Are we taking wagers on who gets the first kill?" Ptolemy asked as they crossed the spring into more dense woods.
"We did that last time," Perdiccas was quick to remind him.
Seleucus drew in line with him. "And the time before. Largest kill?"
"That one ended in a brawl," was Leonnatus' contradiction. "That you lost, I believe."
Seleucus glared at the Lyncestian, some of the expression losing its heat as his lips twitched in a smile. "The dog tripped me. All of Nearchus' carrying on got it excited and it got in the way."
"My what?"
As expected, from there things degenerated into a heated argument of traded insults, none of them truly gaining the upper hand at any point. Alexander and Hephaestion stayed out of it, as did Ptolemy for the most part, though the latter did occasionally add his own observations which would inspire a whole other round of bickering.
With all of the ruckus it was a miracle that, at the end of the day, they actually managed a kill. And though the initial kill was Peridiccas' he could not claim the prize, despite his often creative grumblings, because no wager had actually been agreed upon. To compensate Alexander offered him initial choice of the meat, a prize which placated his appetite if not his purse.
"How soon do you think your father means to set out for Asia?" Leonnatus asked, licking the grease from the meat off his fingers. "The army is practically chomping at the bit."
"And only how many months since Chaeronea?"
Alexander furrowed his brows, passing a flagon of watered wine to Hephaestion who sat at his side. "Within the next year or so I believe he intends to send the advance army. He has mentioned wanting to make sure Athens intends to behave herself before turning his back."
"Would it not be simpler to eliminate Demosthenes? The man can jabber away more than any woman I have ever known."
"And make less sense."
"Killing Demosthenes would only validate all of his claims," Ptolemy pointed out. "It would be better to exile him. Preferably somewhere for from Greece."
"Do you think Gaul would have him?"
"You never know, the Celts could become so frustrated with his endless prattling that they relieve him of his head."
They all laughed at Hephaestion's suggestion and then their conversation turning into plotting many different and elaborate deaths for the troublesome orator. The more wine they consumed, the more fantastical the executions became, several of them punishments worthy of the gods.
When at last the wine was all drunk and becoming sober was a distinct possibility, they all crawled in the directions of their bedrolls. The night was cold enough that they slept in huddled groups of two or three in an attempt to share heat. Alexander and Hephaestion wrapped themselves up in both their blankets, their limbs utterly twisted together in a bid to stay warm.
"The gods guard your dreams," Alexander whispered against Hephaestion's cheek, his eyes blinking shut.
Hephaestion yawned deeply. "Yours as well."
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How can we expect Philip of Macedon to guard our interests when he cannot even keep safe an Athenian within the walls of his own palace? Amyntor son of Demetrois, a man that Philip claims as a guest-friend was insulted by all of Macedon when his son was abducted by Illyrian mercenaries on the very eve that his wife died of a sudden malady. Strange coincidence, is it not, that such a respected and influential Athenian general should receive two such drastic blows to his family and his pride in a single instant.
Just how stable can the Macedonian royal family—if we should even call them royal—be when they cannot even protect those that are dear to them? For not only was the poor Athenian boy the son of a guest-friend, but also the companion and beloved of the prince himself. The little-king, they call him. Prince Alexander, who cruelly slaughtered Thebes' Sacred Band, showed such little regard for his supposedly dear friend that he allowed him to languish a whole month in one of his father's vile mines before retrieving him. Such is Macedonian friendship.
How, then, can we be expected to trust Philip as a conqueror when he cannot be trusted as a friend? To him we are worth nothing but the power of our navy. Grant him that, Athens, and he will destroy us just as surely as the Persians attempted just over a century ago. For all of his talk about undoing the wrongs committed by Xerxes, I assure you that he means only to outdo him. Athens will lose all of her glory and become nothing but a backwater bit of Macedon unless we stop him now. It would be in our best interest to side with Persia against him. Better an enemy far away than one breathing foul breath down our necks....
Demosthenes read over the draft for his latest speech yet again, searching for places it could be made stronger. Sooner than he would like the uncouth Macedonian would be setting out with his army as the "avenger of Persian crimes against Greece" or some such nonsense. That a barbarian should be allowed to proclaim himself a Greek in any way was unthinkable. If Athens continued to whimper and fuss at Philip's feet soon even those barbaric northern tribes would begin to consider themselves Greek.
Philip's witch, at least, had the good sense to stay out of Greek affairs. Her own intrigues made her useful. It had taken only a small sum of money to set in motion all of the drama with her brat at the unfortunate Athenian boy. The only troublesome part of the whole affair was that Amyntor's son had lived to lay blame at the witch's feet and Demosthenes had no word but her own that she would not implicate him. Under normal circumstances he would not trust the word of an unpredictable woman, but to meet his ends he had little other choice. Even if she did make his part in the plot known, it would be easy enough to deflect the blame. And to have such a well situated ally would only be beneficial if it became necessary to remove Philip from power. Let the Epirot witch think that Athens meant to promote her son in such an eventuality.
Should it not be Athens herself, the crowning glory of Greece, to lead the greatest invasion of Asia since the Trojan war? Should such a vast undertaking truly be left up to the sons of goatherds?
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The journey to Epirus was not particularly easy at that time of year, but Amyntor willingly bore the hardships for when he returned from Dodona his son would finally be safe from Olympias. Amyntor was not fool enough to think that Hephaestion would be utterly safe—such a thing was impossible so long as he remained Alexander's lover—but he would at least no longer be within the witch's grasp.
"She wants to speak with you, general."
Amyntor frowned, not the least bit inclined to hear anything Olympias had to say, but aware that it was expected of him. Until they rode into Dodona, he was her guardian. At Dodona her younger brother Alexandros would take control of her. Amyntor's initial concerns over such a scenario had been quelled by both Philip and Alexandros; Philip pointing out the long standing grudge between brother and sister, Alexandros reconfirming that he owed his crown to Philip. The eventual marriage of Alexandros and Cleopatra only strengthened the bond between the kings of Macedon and Epirus.
"You requested my presence, lady?" Amyntor inquired with forced civility as he drew his horse up alongside Olympias litter.
Olympias smiled beguilingly from behind her linen curtains. "I only meant to inquire if it was time for us to stop for the night. The sun is fading quickly and our location is hardly safe. I would hate for any misfortune to befall us so close to my brother's lands."
"I assure you, madam, we will be safe enough. I have every intention of delivering you safely to Dodona."
The scowl that he received in response twisted her features, making her appear far older than her thirty-something years. It was not difficult to imagine her casting some foul curse on him and Amyntor could not stop the secret grin that lightened his insides. Let her curse him, it would do no good as he did not believe in such things. Hephaestion was safe enough with Alexander, far from her grasp. Much as the idea of a son killing his mother bothered him that Alexander had placed Hephaestion above his own mother comforted him a great deal. His son was loved.
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Yawning loudly, Hephaestion reclined against Alexander's chest. Their month at Mieza was nearly up and soon they would need to return to their lives. Close to three months had passed since he had last run drills with the Vanguard and at times Hephaestion felt utterly useless. The rest of the time he could not believe that almost three months had elapsed. In his mind it was so much longer.
In other ways it was easier to see the passage of time. His hair was becoming longer and he was sleeping more soundly. He was also stronger than he had been when they had first arrived at Mieza. In order to keep themselves fit they had been drilling with their horses. After two weeks Hephaestion had no longer needed to take breaks while the others were still busy working. It had bothered him that he no longer had the stamina to remain on horseback for more than half a day so he pretended not to notice when the cooks gave him a larger portion at meals, no doubt at Alexander's bidding.
The true test had come that afternoon when Ptolemy had suggested a wrestling match. Initially Hephaestion had remained out of such matches, knowing that he did not have the strength to be a significant threat to any opponent, but that afternoon he had felt well enough. It was no real surprise that Alexander was chosen as his opponent, the two of them paired off together the most often over the years. The surprise had been the fact that Hephaestion had been the victor. They had fought often enough that Hephaestion had known that Alexander had not been going easy on him. Alexander had fought with all of his usual tenacity, yet it had still been his face in the sand at the end. Rather than being upset about his loss, Alexander's face had been beaming with pride.
"Do not think that you will always beat me so easily," Alexander groused good-naturedly as they lay drying on the banks of the spring. "I will defeat you one day."
Hephaestion pressed a kiss to the underside of Alexander's jaw, unable to prevent a grin. "If you say so, love."
"I will!" Alexander insisted, his grip about Hephaestion's middle tightening. "You are simply too cocky for your own good."
"Was that meant to be an insult or a compliment?"
Lightning quick their positions were reversed and Hephaestion found himself on his back with Alexander looming over him. For a brief moment he felt an instinctual flare of panic, but it was immediately driven away by Alexander himself. He could not for one moment considering being scared of the other man.
Alexander must have felt him tense because he immediately began to roll away. Hephaestion lifted his knees, trapping Alexander between his thighs to prevent him moving off.
"You do not frighten me," Hephaestion said with the utmost conviction. "It was only a momentary twinge."
Alexander's lips twisted and he ducked his head down briefly. "I do not ever want to cause you pain or frightening you."
Hephaestion's smile was instant. "Nor could you ever do such a thing. Not even if you tried."
"You cannot be certain of such things," Alexander murmured, his grey eyes looking wide and vulnerable then.
"Of course I can. If it is within your power I know that you will never willingly cause me any hurt. It is simply not in you."
Alexander still did not look convinced so Hephaestion lifted his head to press a kiss to his lips. At first Alexander was unresponsive, holding himself utterly rigid until Hephaestion began to nip lightly on his lower lip.
"I will not fall apart for want of some affection," Hephaestion insisted, the words spoken against that full bottom lip. He drew his head back so that Alexander would be able to see the truth in his eyes. "If you do not trust yourself then trust me to know what I am capable of bearing."
"I trust you in all things," Alexander said quietly, his voice solemn. "But this... after all that you have already suffered...."
Hephaestion allowed his head and shoulders to drop back onto the ground, his hands sliding from behind Alexander's neck to rest upon his own stomach. Doubt once again began to creep up on him and it was difficult for Hephaestion to swallow it back down.
"Do you still see me as something broken?" he asked in a whisper as Alexander began to draw away. "Something that has been damaged beyond repair?"
Settling himself back down, Alexander rolled onto his side, drawing Hephaestion with him so that they lay chest to chest, their legs tangled together. For several long moments he said nothing and Hephaestion would have feared what was to come were it not for the feel of Alexander's fingers twisting about in his hair.
"You have been broken apart, Hephaestion. That is something neither of us can deny," Alexander began slowly, his fingers moving to the still-healing scar just under the hinge of Hephaestion's jaw. "It was not long ago that you were insensible, holding a knife to your own throat. The time that you have spent recovering barely equals the time that you were captive. Physically you have recovered, I do believe that. It is the rest of you that I cannot help but fear for."
"Will there ever be a time you think me fully recovered? Is there even a way for either of us to truly know when such a thing will happen?"
Alexander sighed, the gentle movement of his fingers never faltering. "I do not know the answer to that, which terrifies me most. I know that you are Hephaestion and that I will love you regardless, but beyond that I am lost."
"So you would rather stay cowering in the dark than search out some kind of light?" Hephaestion pressed, touching his forehead to Alexander's. "I am not afraid, so why then are you?"
At first Alexander was utterly silent and Hephaestion was uncertain of what to expect. The kiss that followed eased all of his fears. He could still feel some restraint in Alexander, but there was some passion in there as well. Alexander was tentative, something he had not been since they had initially become intimate. Hephaestion himself was not entirely certain, but swallowed his own unease. He would not fear what was to come. He could not fear something he wanted so desperately.
Prepared as he was, Hephaestion could not prevent himself from tensing briefly as Alexander's hand reached between his thighs. Even knowing what was coming he felt a twinge of unease, but swallowed it down as quickly as he was able, leaning up into the kiss so that Alexander would not think him backing down. More than anything Hephaestion wanted intimacy with Alexander. He wanted to lose himself entirely within his love so that he could wash away everything that had come before.
So he held himself steady, breathing deeply as Alexander slowly began to ease inside his body. But Alexander was taking such care with him that after the first initial uncomfortable stretch, he felt only fullness. He gasped, pressing his forehead to Alexander's as he arched his hips upwards to meet his lover's.
"Gods, Phae," Alexander moaned, his breath panted hotly against Hephaestion's cheek.
Turning his head, Hephaestion tilted his head so that he was able to catch Alexander's lips with his own. His hands he used to cup the back of Alexander's head, his fingers sliding through the short blonde hair. Alexander leaned back into his palm, coaxing Hephaestion up with him with a gentle nip to his top lip.
Their movements were languid, neither of them wanting to hurry things along as they had so often in the past. It was not the completion that they were both searching for, but the act itself. Throughout it all, Hephaestion alternately felt as though he were being patched back together and bursting apart at the seams. His whole body felt alive and Hephaestion never wanted it to end. That it would was inevitable and afterwards he and Alexander lay gasping in a boneless, sweaty heap.
"Much as I would love to lay here with you until the world ends, there is a rather large rock digging into my back," Hephaestion murmured against Alexander's neck a short while later. "That or your sandal. I cannot quite make out the shape of it."
"How utterly romantic," Alexander chuckled quietly, rolling onto his side and drawing Hephaestion with him. He lifted his head and glanced over Hephaestion's shoulder to where they had been lying before. "It was your boot you were lying on."
"Quit looking so smug," Hephaestion chided, grunting slightly as Alexander's softened member slipped from him. "It could very well have been your sandal."
"Not likely. You are the disorderly one of our pairing."
"I am simply not compulsively clean. I am rather surprised that you have lingered this long after our coupling without insisting upon bathing."
"I thought it polite not to mention the mess you have made of us."
"What of the mess you have made of me?"
"If you let me up now, I can promise to give you a very thorough washing."
"You are desperate to get into the water."
"Quit your laughing, you madman!"
Heaving himself up onto his knees, Hephaestion reached a hand down to his love. "Come along, we will wash each other's backs."
The End.