I think this is perhaps a bit shorter than the previous two, and for that I apologise. Exams are getting in the way!
Thanks very much to S0phea, MorrociaIsMad, Gif, and Zophiel Lagace for your lovely reviews! Please keep them coming, I love to know what you think of the story, or if there's anything you'd like to see in upcoming chapters!
Part Three
Despite his initial doubts, Hephaestion was not half as difficult to find as Alexander anticipated. The young man's horse was not to be found in any of the stables, and after years of closeness, Alexander could guess without much trouble where he had escaped to. Refusing help from the stable boy, Alexander saddled up Bucephalus and made to leave, ready to ride all day and night if he had to.
The anger flooding through his veins made his movements sharp, and later on he felt somewhat guilty for shouting at the poor stable boy when he said he didn't know how long ago Hephaestion had left.
But alas, the deed was done, and before long hot winds were whipping across the young Prince's face as he sped towards the river that ran through a beautiful copse. His mother's words still rang in his ears, louder than the whistling breeze and the thudding of Bucephalus' hooves as he galloped. All he could think of was Hephaestion, and he prayed to the Gods that his beloved had not listened to the foolish ravings of the madwoman.
He thought too of Achilles, and how his love for Patroclus had survived through the ages; surely Hephaestion knew his love to be no less deep? He was confident that the man would pay no heed to the Queen's words, and his self-assurance allowed a smile to grace his grim expression; he leant closer into his horse, urging his steed to race all the more quickly with soothing words of encouragement.
It was not hard to spot the figure half hidden among trees and bushes. He spied the auburn brown hair with ease, and Bucephalus snorted with wariness as Alexander led him down the sloping hill, towards the glistening river that sang as it rushed over smooth stones, lapping at the bare legs of Hephaestion that were dangling into their depths from where he sat on the bank. Alexander smiled at the figure, dismounting his steed and sitting down beside his beloved, who made no acknowledgement that he was there at all.
"Hephaestion?" he asked when the young man did not acknowledge the chaste kiss planted on his cheek. Hephaestion looked up, and Alexander was alarmed to see confusion and pain among the cerulean of his beloved's eyes. "Hephaestion, what's wrong?" he asked, and reached to place a hand upon the boy's cheek. But Hephaestion leant out of his embrace, shaking his head.
"You shouldn't be here," he said distractedly, and Alexander stared at him.
"Do you not wish me to be here?" he asked, trying not to sound hurt.
"No! I mean…yes, I do…but you should not…I do not wish to waste your time, Alexander." Hephaestion's firm gaze returned to the rippling water, not moving when Alexander slipped his hand into his.
"But I would like very much to stay with you here," he said softly, placing his chin on his companion's shoulder.
"You should return to the Palace, my Prince." Hephaestion said, his voice monotonous.
"Hephaestion!" Alexander despaired. "You know how much it pains me for you to call me that. You are my beloved, as I am yours, nothing more. There are no titles between us, we are equals."
"But we are not," Hephaestion replied weakly, his lips quivering as he looked up into the older boy's face. "You are a Prince, Alexander. We were wrong to forget that; to think that it meant nothing." His attention returned to the pools of water that swirled around his calves, and Alexander withdrew the hand that had been half draped over his love's shoulder.
"Why are you saying this?" he asked breathlessly.
"You're the future king, Alexander," Hephaestion implored. "It was selfish of me to expect you to keep me by your side forever. I was just a fool in love with a man twice my stature, and thrice my character." He sounded…accepting; as if his mind was made up, and this caused Alexander's heart to tremble. He had broken the stubbornness of Bucephalus, but even the obstinate horse's willpower was nothing compared to Hephaestion.
Alexander grabbed Hephaestion's shoulders roughly and shook him slightly, his eyes pained and his mouth agape with terror.
"Hephaestion, you listen to me. Whatever that…that snake said, I want you to forget it. My mother plays no part in my life where you are concerned. I love her dearly, but she does not know my heart, Hephaestion! She cannot see the undying affection I save only for you. Nothing shall part us, what of Achilles and Patroclus?" he begged, and his teeth worried his lower lip as he waited for Hephaestion to answer, seeing the calculating sapphire eyes.
Hephaestion smiled contentedly, and reached up a hand to cup Alexander's face, rubbing the pad of his thumb across his cheek lovingly.
"You owe me nothing, Alexander. I will always love you, but you owe me nothing. Now go back to your Palace, Prince. You are a fine Macedonian, and I know in my heart you'll go far."
Alexander did not feel the soft brush of his beloved's lips against his, only the dampness as one of Hephaestion's tears was transferred from cheek to cheek. He stared unseeing, unaware of Hephaestion getting up and walking towards his horse, who was stood close to Bucephalus, and mounting fluidly. He barely heard the sound of hooves galloping away, not in the direction of the Palace, but Westward, towards to the wilderness that his dear Hephaestion loved so dearly.
Alexander felt cold waves of…something washing over him; though whether it was fear, or fury, or something more powerful than both he could not say. Hi fingers scraped against the sandy embankment, the dirt sticking under his fingernails and the stones grating against his palms as he wondered what he could possibly do.
The most obvious, his first thought sprang to mind instantly, would be to march straight back to the Palace and strangle the wretched woman that had birthed him. But that was irrational Philip within him thinking, he knew he could not kill his own mother, no matter her faults. Deep inside, he knew her love for him was passionate, but the truth was simple. She had no right.
He looked up towards the road Hephaestion had sped – escaped – down, and he considered following, a frown darkening his gaze.
He stood abruptly, and Bucephalus stepped lightly in line with him, obediently waiting for his master to mount. Alexander ran his fingers softly through his steed's hair.
He knew exactly where to go.