*Apologies for posting this chapter twice, I uploaded it wrong first time..
Okay, last chapter! The Confrontation. Thanks so much for your reviews :) Thank you very much to Victoria Alatamir Wan, to S0phea who I hope I haven't driven too crazy, Aebbe who bless her has read this without having watched the film, Gif who has been this story's greatest fan and a wonderful motivational source, and Zophiel Lagace who has been a great source of inspiration.
There will only be an epilogue after this, so please for those of you who haven't reviewed, this is your second to last chance to put in a quick word about your thoughts on this story! (Hinting much, I know…)
Part Seven
Once at the foot of the sloping mountain, Alexander decided to turn right and head towards the palace, travelling back by a different route in case he had missed Hephaestion by a stroke of bad luck. He passed the softly rolling hills that he had explored during his younger years – and in truth still ventured through with Hephaestion on occasion; it was as he reached the last of these slopes that something caught his eye, causing him to pull back on Bucephalus' reigns sharply. Halting fast, Alexander stared up at the closest hill, which was dusted with sand and littered with rocks. Something was moving, walking at a casual pace between the boulders. It looked like a person.
The dark blue chiton and tunic were both like any other, but there was something about the way the figure was walking, slowly with his head bowed to the ground in determination that was very recognisable.
Alexander smiled, and directed Bucephalus off the beaten track, up towards the man. When the slope started rise too steeply for his poor horse, Alexander dismounted and followed on foot; only once within range did he begin to call out to his companion.
Hephaestion turned on the third shout of his name.
"Alexander!" he cried, and skidded over the sandy, unmarked path towards the blond man. "I've been looking for you. When it was obvious you weren't in the palace I thought you'd probably be out among these hills."
"I've been searching everywhere for you! Where is Perros?" Alexander demanded suspiciously.
"I lent him to Perdiccas."
Alexander rolled his eyes at himself; a chuckle burst from his throat.
"Well, you'll be pleased to know that all is well." Alexander sighed, and Hephaestion looked upon him with a curious eye. "I've found a way of putting my mother off for good."
"Oh really?" Hephaestion asked, sounding somewhat impressed but also, Alexander couldn't help but notice, a little wary. "And how do you plan to do that?"
"If you were my eromenos, and I your erastes, then our separation would only bring shame to me, which my mother would not dare do. We would be safe from her schemes."
Alexander did not know what he had expected Hephaestion to reply with, but the empty silence that followed shocked him a little. The blue eyed youth stared at him, mouth agape and breaths quickening. Then he laughed, but the laugh was not the natural, infectious laugh of Hephaestion. It had the faintest trace of hysteria in it.
"Oh, that would be perfect. She cannot keep us separated; we'll just leave her the only option of killing me to get me out of her way." Hephaestion sighed deeply, still grinning that odd, uncharacteristically manic grin.
"No, she wouldn't dare do such a thing!" Alexander cried in alarm. "It's a good idea Hephaestion!" he insisted, and together they sat down side by side on one of the larger boulders, staring out at the palace that lay towards the west. "All we need is to quieten the Queen." It did not go unnoticed by Hephaestion that 'mother' had suddenly become 'Queen'. "My father already acknowledges you as a good soldier; he both likes and values you a great deal."
Then the laugh for the second time rang out loud and clear; Hephaestion stood. He looked almost angry, his cheeks flushing crimson and his eyes blazing.
"Alexander!" he cried in frustration, "You are not blind, or a fool! You know as well as I that the only reason your father approves of me is because were I not the son of someone as important as my father, he'd have been bedded me himself like all the other boys he takes a fancy to."
Alexander felt as if he should defend his father against these accusations, but he did not. Instead he raised his eyebrows, a smile of concern and amusement on his face.
"And you think that I am merely following in my father's footsteps…bedding you for your pretty face? Which, I have to say, looks even more handsome when you're angry. Do you know your eyes look almost purple right now?"
Hephaestion let out a scream of irritation, running his hands through his hair and feeling close to stamping his feet.
"Alexander, be serious! I am nothing but a joke to people!" he shouted. Alexander stood quickly, crossing his arms stubbornly.
"Well you're not a joke to me."
They stood for a moment in silence, blue eyes staring into brown.
"An eromenos is recognised as a noble role. Think of Achilles and Patroclus!" Alexander said brightly, his eyes shining with wonder at the mention of his hero. "What on earth is wrong with living a life alike to theirs?"
Hephaestion's eyes glanced towards the floor, humbled by the abruptly majestic tone of Alexander's voice.
"It's still just another way of saying you own me."
"Let any fool who thinks that see it that way. We know the truth." Alexander consoled Hephaestion, reaching out but not quite daring to take the young man's arm.
"And what truth is that?" Hephaestion asked, his expression one of disbelief.
"The truth that I would have no idea what to do with myself if you weren't around to guide me! I've lost count of the mistakes I would have made over these few short years if you hadn't been there to advise me; I love you, and I need you. That's the truth."
Hephaestion turned away, perching delicately on a rock and leaning his face into his palms, his elbows propped on his knees. "You are already a general, Alexander. You lead men into battle; you consult strategies with the king." Hephaestion sighed, hoping his voice did not sound too bitter. "And me? Already you have left me behind, as I always knew one day you would. Once again I'm nothing but a soldier, nothing special. Just the prince's old whore, left to lick his wounds in private."
Alexander's breath rattled dangerously, and he growled as he attempted to tame his fury.
"These are not your words," he spat. "Who has said these things to you? Tell me Hephaestion!"
"Nobody. It doesn't matter."
"It's not true, Hephaestion. You know it isn't. Don't be such a fool as to believe whoever it was that told you this. If you won't tell me that's fine. But I beg you not to listen to cruel and empty words." He reached out to place a hand on the young man's shoulder, but pulled away at the last second for fear of being shrugged off.
He held in his fiery temper, a temper inherited from his mother: explosive, and for the most part uncontrollable. He knew what he had said was partly a lie. It certainly did matter that Hephaestion wouldn't tell him; later, he vowed, much later, he would find out who said these things to his beloved and they would pay dearly.
But for now he would have to wait.
Hephaestion blinked slowly, trying to remove the shameful tears from his eyes without letting Alexander know they were there. Was this his destiny…did the gods create him purely to be owned by the Prince of Macedonia? Had he no better purpose in life? Was his greatest achievement truly, as had been said to him what felt like too often to count, to be warming Alexander's bed at night?
"One day I'll be king," Alexander said quietly, sounding suddenly much closer, "and you're going to have to help me or I'll fail. I know I will."
"Alexander," Hephaestion sighed, his eyes prickling uncomfortably. "You can do anything you wish. You did at the age of twelve before we knew one another, and you can do so now."
"But you'll stay with me?"
Hephaestion closed his eyes. This was it, the moment he had once spoken of with Aristotle, the moment that can shape a future; define a man…or destroy him. Though whether his choice would delineate or demolish he knew he may not discover for another decade.
"Yes," he said quietly.
Silence followed and he frowned. But as he started to turn around, the stocky figure of Alexander crashed into him in a tight embrace that sent them hurtling down the slope, rolling over grit and stone, and stinging their limbs with rough grazes.
When they finally came to a halt, Alexander pinned Hephaestion to ground, legs entwined and arms forced out to the sides.
"Good," Alexander said with a cocky grin. Hephaestion smirked, and with little difficulty flipped the blonde boy over so he was pinning Alexander to the ground instead.
"You never could beat me in a wrestle," Hephaestion said arrogantly. Alexander paused for a moment before cocking a suggestive eyebrow and shifting his hips beneath the taller boy.
"No," Hephaestion said firmly, and Alexander gave his friend his most innocent and pleading smile. "Your father is looking for you by the way," Hephaestion added as an afterthought, and Alexander shrugged, his expression revealing he cared little for who was looking for him at that precise moment.
"He can wait." There was a pause as Alexander tried to mimic Hephaestion's previous manoeuvre, flipping the darker haired boy onto his back, but Hephaestion held him fast to the ground. "Why not?" Alexander asked when it became clear he wasn't going to succeed.
"Because, Alexander, you are a prince. And as such there are probably several guards within the vicinity that have followed you for your own protection, and can hear and see everything that we say and do."
"So? The guards are there to protect us, not have an opinion on what we do in our spare time…"
"And yet still I say no," Hephaestion said with a smirk and a mocking tone of surprise; Alexander frowned before struggling to reverse their positions again, though unsurprisingly he failed once more. "You are impossible!" Hephaestion cried at his futile efforts.
"I know," Alexander agreed, nodding frankly.
"Okay then…" and Alexander grinned hopefully. "If…" Hephaestion said slowly, teasing Alexander just a little. "You can catch me." Before Alexander had time to react Hephaestion had leapt off the boy and began racing away from him. Shouting wordlessly, Alexander sprang to his feet, bellowing playful curses as he weaved quickly through rocks and boulders after his friend.
And so, the ultimately doomed fates of Achilles and Patroclus forgotten, Alexander chased Hephaestion up, up, up the mountain, their laughter echoing and mingling like chiming bells without a thought for the sharp tongues of snakes or the heavy duties of kings, only the blissful gift of naivety that is only found in youth and love, and how they hoped it would last for an eternity.