(no subject)

Oct 20, 2004 16:34


Hi, I'm new here and hephaestion said I should post a fic, so here goes. It's not in response to any challenge and it's kinda long, but I hope you guys like it.

Title: Homecoming
Author: Qaddafi the Ripper
Summary: Upon returning to Macedon from his exile, Hephaistion finds Alexander king and much changed, but also much that hasn't changed.
Notes: While many historians suppose that Hephaistion, unlike most of Alexander's friends, wasn't exiled after the affair with the Carian princess, I've yet to seen evidence to prove that Hephaistion definitely wasn't exiled. Plutarch doesn't mention Hephaistion among those exiled, but he doesn't mention him at all until later. So, in this story, I have assumed that Hephaistion was among those exiled, and has now returned to Macedon in the wake of Philip's death.


The cool air and familiar hills of his homeland refreshed him. It looked just as it had when he'd left half a year ago. Returning from his second, and hopefully last, exile, Hephaistion had decided to first stop by his parents' house before going to the palace at Pella. His mother had been most distressed when he left the second time --the first had been voluntary but the second definitely hadn't-- and he passed by his home before reaching Pella anyway.

A strong feeling of nostalgia took him as he rode into the courtyard. The old family servant, who had been like an uncle to Hephaistion growing up, ran up to greet him. A broad smile covered his face and he gave Hephaistion a quick hug before taking his horse's reins. "It's good to have you back," he said.

Hephaistion smiled. "It's good to be back. Are my parents home?"

"Yes. Go see them now." The servant shooed him off. Hephaistion's grin broadened and he obeyed. As he entered the house, his mother came dashing down the hall. She threw her arms around him and he hugged her back enthusiastically. She'd known he was home so soon, she must have seen him coming up. He wondered if she'd waited by a window, listening for his return, as she had last time. A wave of guilt took him, for making her worry so.

After a while she pulled back and looked up into his face, examining him minutely. He was healthy and looked it, so she relaxed. "You're well?" she asked.

He nodded. "Yes, I'm fine. I didn't enjoy exile, but Agriani isn't as bad as Illyria and it wasn't during winter."

"You should have gone to Athens," she said, quietly disapproving. "You could have stayed with the family."

Both of his parents hailed from Athens; his oldest sister had been born there, before Amyntor moved his family to Macedon to fight for Philip. Hephaistion had met his family in Athens a few times and liked them quite a bit. "I wasn't sure how long I'd be there and I didn't want to impose," he told his mother. There was no need to tell her the other reasons. That staying in Athens, hotbed of discord and anti-Macedonian rhetoric that it was, might have angered Philip further. That he didn't want to be within the same city as that coward and liar Demosthenes. That, after seeing the city anew with Alexander not too long ago, he had no wish to see it again by himself.

She pressed her lips together but didn't say anything. He was a grown man and could make his own decisions. "How are my sisters?" he asked, hoping to distract her.

"They're both well, as are their husbands. You're an uncle twice over."

"Am I? I'll have to visit them so I may congratulate them." That would be an enjoyable trip, at least. He loved seeing his sisters, and his brothers-in-law were upstanding men. Seeing new nieces or nephews would only make the trip better.

His mother took his arm. "Come, your father's in his study." They walked together, arms linked. Every step brought more peace back to Hephaistion. He was back home and everything was alright in his world. They entered his father's study without knocking. Amyntor looked up with a frown which instantly transformed when he saw Hephaistion.

He approached Hephaistion with more dignity than his wife had, but hugged his son just as fiercely. "It's good to have you back," he said softly.

Hephaistion nodded, feeling tears in his eyes. "Hello, father."

Amyntor pulled away and rubbed an arm quickly across his face. "Come, let us sit together. There's much we need to talk about." Hephaistion nodded; his father's darker tone didn't register, as numbed with the joy of homecoming as he was.

The three of them moved to the common area of the house and sat together near the fireplace. His mother had taken his arm again and refused to let go. "You look well," his father said.

Hephaistion nodded. "I am well. I stayed with Langarus and his Agrianian kin as a guest-friend. So you don't need to worry, I've been fine. Impatient to get back, but fine."

Amyntor nodded. "That's good to hear. I know you always manage, but we still worry for you..." He trailed off, then composed himself. "You'll want to know what's happened here since you left."

"I know Philip died," Hephaistion replied. That was why his exile was over. "And Alexander is now king." He'd heard that shortly after riding over the border back into Macedon. If the dates he'd heard were right, Philip had been dead for two months, and Alexander had been king for about one month. He wished he'd heard about Philip's death earlier so he could return sooner, but news traveled slowly up north. He wondered briefly if kingship had changed his friend; but no, it couldn't have. Alexander would always be Alexander, no matter what. He'd wanted the crown, and deserved it, but getting it wouldn't have changed him.

The grim expression on Amyntor's face seemed to suggest otherwise. For the first time since he'd returned to Macedon, Hephaistion felt troubled. "Did you hear how Philip died?" Amyntor asked. Hephaistion shook his head. He'd heard that Philip had been murdered and, judging by the rumors, half the population in Greece had had a hand in it. He'd paid little mind to the rumors, sure that he'd hear the true story when he got back to Pella. "He was murdered by Pausanias during Kleopatra's wedding to Alexander of Epiros. He did it in front of everyone. He tried to flee, but was killed before he could get away. Yes," he said, seeing Hephaistion's expression, "if there was anyone else involved in plotting the murder, we may never know. Some people have already been executed for conspiracy."

A chill ran down Hephaistion's back. Had Alexander been accused of murdering his father? Perhaps not, since he'd been elected king, but other than Alexander there was only Arridaios and Amyntas in direct line for the throne, and the men of Macedon would never either of them when Alexander was a choice. "Who was executed?" he asked.

"Amyntas, the son of old King Perdiccas. I doubt he had any part in it; it was well known that Alexander was the preferred heir. Maybe he thought Alexander wouldn't be elected if people believed he killed Philip. You don't need to share my opinion about Amyntas in Pella," Amyntor gave him a firm look and Hephaistion nodded quickly. "Alexander of Lyncestis was the first to stand behind Alexander as the new king. Both of his younger brothers were executed. Another whole mess of trouble I don't want to think about. There is rumor that Demosthenes may also have had a hand in it, no surprise that, but Alexander can't execute him when he's in Athens. And Athens seems to be taking this change in power as a chance to rebel." Hephaistion looked up sharply. "Yes, and not only Athens. Thebes too, and Thessaly. It may be a long time yet before our army can go into Asia."

He was silent for a long time, digesting it all. It shouldn't have surprised him, that the other Greek nations would try to break away from Macedonian rule after Philip's death. They'd see Alexander as nothing but a boy and decide it was the perfect opportunity. He was equally sure that Alexander was already thinking how to get them back under control, and in as little time as possible. And he was sure that Alexander could do it too.

Nor should he be surprised at the deaths Alexander had ordered. The history of the royal family of Macedon was drenched in blood. Hephaistion clearly recalled the day he'd discovered the knife Alexander kept under his pillow. He'd been horrified, but Alexander had shrugged as if it were the most natural thing in the world to sleep with. If anything, Hephaistion should be surprised at how few people Alexander had had killed. He wasn't; Alexander liked to be generous and think the best of people he trusted.

"Have any of my other friends who were exiled come back?" he asked, trying to find a lighter topic.

Amyntor smiled and relaxed somewhat. He was also grateful to talk about happier news. "Yes. Ptolemy came back a month ago, Harpalos maybe twenty days ago. I think Erigyios and Laomedon came back together three days ago, in the morning. Nearchus hasn't returned yet, but he went to his family in Crete." Amyntor gazed at his son. "You should go to Pella today. The king will be relieved to have you back." He glanced at his wife, who wasn't willing yet to let go of Hephaistion's arm. "We'll be fine. Just make sure you come and visit us regularly."

Hephaistion stood and smiled. "I will definitely come back," he promised easily. "Thank you for letting me leave now." Pella was where his heart lay, after all, since that was where Alexander was. He gently disengaged himself from his mother's grip. She hugged him once more, but the let him go.

"We're glad you're home," she said with a sad smile.

He kissed her brow. "I am too. I'll be back soon and you can always come visit me at the palace." He nodded to his father and left the room, intent on getting back to where he belonged as soon as possible. He found the aged servant waiting for him with his horse, rubbed down, watered, and fed. Most of his luggage had been removed, but one bundle remained. He smiled at the old servant. "Am I that predictable?"

The man just handed him the reins silently and watched him ride off towards the palace. Hephaistion looked back once and saw two shapes watching him from a window. He waved, hoping his parents would see, then turned his mind back to where he was going.

It was a short ride from his home to Pella and as it was still early in the afternoon he didn't have to push his horse. Not that he rode slowly; he'd been away for six months, after all. The sooner he got there, the sooner he could see Alexander. And the sooner he could stop worrying how much truth were in the rumors. He didn't want to admit it, but he was troubled.

As he approached the city, he passed a cross. A dead body hung from it, and kites clustered around it, devouring the remaining flesh. A sign had been tacked above the body, identifying it as Pausanias, the man who'd killed Philip. A wreath of flowers had been hung around the corpse's neck and a golden circlet placed on its head. Hephaistion shuddered and looked away, not wanting to guess who might have rejoiced over the death of the king.

When he finally reached Pella, he was tense and unhappy and he wanted nothing more than to be with Alexander and know nothing important had changed. There were more guards than usual at the palace gates; unsurprising, he supposed, given that a king had recently been murdered and rebellion was in the air. Fortunately, he knew one of the guards and the man let him in with barely a fuss. Inside the palace were also more people than he was used to. The combination of war and a change in leadership always brought all sorts of people out of the woodwork.

Other people had arrived at about the same time he had --from the way they were dressed, Hephaistion thought they might be from Corinth-- and stable hands were willingly leading horses away. Hephaistion handed his horse over to a man he vaguely recognized, picked up his bag from off of his horse's back, and turned to stare at the palace. Why was he suddenly so nervous?

"Are you here to see the new king too?" a friendly voice interrupted his thoughts. Hephaistion turned to see one of the Corinthians standing next to him.

He paused before answering, "Yes." It was true, after all.

"We've heard a great deal about young Alexander," the man continued. "Mostly good things too, until we went and had Philip murdered. I never--"

"Alexander didn't murder his father!" Hephaistion snapped. How dare he say something like that?

The Corinthian gave him the sort of look adults give children when they're being ignorant and stubborn. It served only to make Hephaistion angrier. "Now then, just because he's started off badly doesn't necessarily mean he'll be a bad king. It sounds like he has a great deal of potential. But everyone knows he hated Philip. He'd already turned against him twice before. It's obvious Alexander was involved in Philip's death."

"Hephaistion! You're back!" Hephaistion turned to see Ptolemy walking towards him. He felt relieved; he wasn't sure how much longer he could have kept his temper and he really didn't need to start a fight the day he finally returned. Ptolemy finally reached him and the two embraced warmly. "What took you so long?" the older man asked when they pulled apart.

"It took awhile for the news to reach the Agriani," Hephaistion replied defensively. "And Langarus insisted on giving me a feast before I left."

Ptolemy laughed and waved a hand. "Not to worry. You're back now. And not a day too soon." He slapped Hephaistion on the back and motioned for him to follow him into the palace. Hephaistion walked behind him. That nervous, foreboding feeling was assailing him again.

Hephaistion expected Ptolemy to lead him to a room he could stay in or to Alexander, but Ptolemy quickly pulled him aside into a little used room. He turned a troubled gaze onto Hephaistion. "What is it?" Hephaistion asked. He could hear his heart beating.

Ptolemy shook his head. "I didn't want to say anything where we could be overheard. It is good to have you back though," he added warmly. Then his tone turned dark. "Alexander is troubled, I know he is. He has been ever since Philip died. Did you pass Pausanias's body?"

"Yes," Hephaistion replied with a blink at the abrupt change of subject.

"And did you see the garland?" the older man continued bitterly. Hephaistion nodded. "Queen Olympias did that. Yes, she admitted to it. She said she wanted to honor him for what he'd done for her."

"Was she involved in the plot to murder Philip?" Hephaistion asked, feeling sick. He'd thought there was nothing that could make him hate Olympias more than he had before, but this proved he'd been wrong. Bad enough, that she'd constantly fought with Philip. Bad enough, that she'd used Alexander as her pawn in her war against her husband. Bad enough, that she'd led Alexander in conspiring against the King, the conspiracy that had led to Hephaistion's exile. No, all that was bad enough, but not enough for Olympias. If she had been a plotter in Philip's death, Hephaistion prayed that Alexander never learned of it.

Ptolemy shrugged. "Who knows. No one's willing to ask, now that Alexander's king. Or, no one's asked where Alexander could hear. But she openly admitted to leaving the flowers and crown for Pausanias."

Spiteful bitch, he thought angrily. "What did Alexander say to that?" he asked.

"He didn't say much of anything," Ptolemy replied. "Not to me, nor to anyone else, that I know of." He gripped Hephaistion's arm. "But it's clear that he needs to talk to someone. He'll talk to you if you ask, so make sure you do ask. Even if he doesn't want to talk, make him talk."

Hephaistion frowned. "I won't--" he started.

Ptolemy shook his head. "You haven't seen him, this past month or so. He's deeply bothered by it, I can tell. But he keeps it all to himself and makes it worse. So you have to talk to him, no matter what." Ptolemy tightened his grip on Hephaistion's arm. "Promise me."

Ptolemy's worry for Alexander touched Hephaistion. Always the protective older brother, whether in blood or deed. It wasn't such a difficult thing; he'd forced Alexander to talk about things he hadn't wanted to talk about before. Now that Alexander was king, Macedon needed him strong and stable. Hephaistion just plain needed him. "Alright," he said at last. "I promise."

Ptolemy visibly relaxed. "Thank you."

"Shall we go see him now?"

"No, it's almost dinner time. He has some important guests tonight, so you won't have the chance then either. Don't worry, you can sit next to me and I'll tell you the rest," Ptolemy hastily assured him. Hephaistion tried not to look disappointed that he wouldn't be able to sit next to Alexander. "There'll be plenty of time after dinner, and you'll know better what you should ask him about then."

He looked so confident of himself as he led Hephaistion through the halls that Hephaistion couldn't bring himself to argue with him. Ptolemy took the bundle that Hephaistion had been carrying and left it in his own room, saying Hephaistion could come back and pick it up when he knew where he'd be staying. Then they walked together into the dinning hall. The whole way, Hephaistion couldn't help but notice that there were more guards than there ought to have been. He wished again that he could see Alexander right away, but Ptolemy was right; there'd be plenty of time after dinner, so why rush?

Ptolemy chose a couch far from the one where the king would sit, but many of their friends were seated nearby: Harpalos, Philotas (the only one who'd managed to avoid exile; not merely once but twice), Erigyios, and Laomedon. Along with the usual crowd, except for Nearchus who hadn't gotten back yet, were other faces that hadn't been here before. Young men who'd admired Alexander and wanted to be in his close circle of friends but who'd never quite reached it. He recognized Perdiccas and Leonnatus right away. Ptolemy saw his look and murmured, "Perdiccas and Leonnatus were the ones who chased down and killed Pausanias."

When the group of young men saw Hephaistion, they all greeted him warmly and Hephaistion found himself smiling broadly back at them. It was good to be among friends, no matter the circumstances. He sat silent among them, content to merely listen to them talk. He'd known how much he'd missed Alexander, but he hadn't realized how much he'd missed his other friends.

A soldier rapped the butt of his spear on the floor and the room quieted down as Alexander entered, accompanied by a group of men.

Since they were seated in a corner and since there were so many people seated between them and where Alexander sat, Hephaistion didn't think Alexander could see him, but he could see Alexander. He stared at the young king rapturously. It was hard to tell, at this distance, if anything had changed in Alexander. He looked about the same as he had when Hephaistion had left. A bit thinner, perhaps, and more richly dressed. But as Alexander seated himself on his dinning couch, Hephaistion noticed more. Alexander rarely moved so slowly or sat so calmly. He usually had a fire in him, that drew people to him, that charged his passions, that caused him to fidget a lot. The fire was still there; if anyone could spot it, Hephaistion could. But instead of energizing Alexander, it was wearing him out. Hephaistion now noticed the dark circles under Alexander's eyes.

His throat tightened; he longed to go to Alexander now and hold his friend in his arms. But he sat where he was and watched from afar. He would listen to Ptolemy, to find out what was wrong with Alexander, but he would watch Alexander too. He knew Alexander best, and even from this far he might discover what was hurting Alexander.

Excellent food was served for dinner, but afterwards Hephaistion was unable to remember tasting any of it. He had to force himself to listen to Ptolemy and Harpalos and some of the others summarizing what had been going on in Macedon these past few months. They repeated the list of executions he'd heard from his parents. They told him how Athens and Sparta and Thessaly were in open revolt against Macedon. They told him how Queen Eurydike had committed suicide and of the order for Attalus's death; that last news he heard gladly.

It became harder to listen to his friends when he realized that the men sitting next to the king, those he'd come in with, included the Corinthians who'd arrived the same time he had. He burned as he watched Alexander, who hadn't yet noticed that he was here, talk to the men. They were probably here on important business and were given seats of honor out of respect, but it still made Hephaistion angry. Looking at Alexander's face, he thought, Do you know that those men think you killed your father?

The dinner was short, by Macedonian terms. Alexander left with the Corinthians after only one cup of wine after the meal, and everyone else started rising too. Hephaistion tried to slip away after him, but Ptolemy had a firm grip on his arm again. Harpalos had come up and taken his other arm. "You can't see Alexander while he's busy," Harpalos hissed at him.

Hephaistion glowered. "I won't say anything, I just want to be with him."

"That'd be enough," Ptolemy said. "Do you really think Alexander will even notice anyone else once he finds out you're back?"

Hephaistion rather hoped he wouldn't, but said, "Alexander knows his duty."

His friends shook their heads. "We'll wait in his rooms," Harpalos suggested. "He won't come there until he's done." By this time, Alexander had already left the room, so Hephaistion didn't bother struggling, letting the other two pull him along to Alexander's room. They didn't lead him to King Philip's rooms, but the ones Alexander had occupied as prince. "He didn't feel like taking the royal rooms," Harpalos explained unnecessarily. Well, of course Alexander hadn't taken his father's room; Hephaistion would have been more surprised if he had.

Four guards manned the door, along with two squires; Hephaistion noticed with a start that the squires were barely younger than he was. It must be awkward for them to switch from serving Philip to Alexander. Both boys recognized Hephaistion and greeted him warmly; he'd been a squire with these two under Philip not too long ago. "We'll be waiting here for Alexander," Ptolemy told the guards.

"Do you want us to tell him you're here?" The older squire asked while opening the heavy door for them.

"No," Harpalos said firmly before Hephaistion could answer. "No need to distract him. We can wait, and he'll be here soon enough." The boy nodded and closed the door behind them. Once inside, Hephaistion threw his friends a dirty look then turned back to the room. It had changed very little, save that the bed was more neatly made than Alexander had ever managed; the squires' doing, no doubt. Peritas rose from the corner where he'd been lying and trotted over eagerly. When the dog recognized Hephaistion, he jumped on him, showering him with messy kisses.

"Down, Peritas," Hephaistion laughed, trying to push the large dog off him. Peritas stopped jumping on Hephaistion, but rubbed himself against him so hard that it hardly made a difference. Hephaistion grinned and rubbed the dog's head. "Did you miss me, boy?" he asked.

Peritas jumped up and licked him on the face. "I guess that's a yes," Hephaistion said.

"Remember what you promised," Ptolemy interrupted him.

"I will," Hephaistion said.

"Ask him tonight," Harpalos added. They must have discussed it together before he got back to Pella, since it hadn't come up over dinner. "It's very important."

Hephaistion didn't think tonight was such a good idea. Alexander had looked so tired, and spending the night talking wasn't what he had in mind. But Ptolemy and Harpalos were so obviously concerned for Alexander. "Fine," he sighed. "I'll talk to him tonight." If he brought it up, it was sure that they wouldn't do anything but talk tonight. He tried not to look annoyed.

"Good," Harpalos said, and Ptolemy gave a warm "Thank you." Hephaistion went back to petting Peritas, who was so much simpler to deal with. He let his thoughts drift, not wanting to think about the state Macedon was in, or what his reunion with Alexander might be like. He wished Ptolemy and Harpalos would leave, but they just stood there, awkwardly silent.

He'd lost track of time except to know it was now late when he heard footsteps approaching the door. Normally, he'd have thought none of the footsteps could be Alexander's, since these steps were all slow and steady where Alexander's were quick and erratic, but he thought now they could be. He heard the guards and squires salute before opening the door, so it must be Alexander after all. Hephaistion stood up and straightened his chiton in time to see Alexander enter, followed by three other squires.

Alexander saw Ptolemy and Harpalos first and smiled at them. He opened his mouth to greet them when his eyes fell on Hephaistion. He stared, forgetting to close his mouth again. Hephaistion grinned. "Hello, Alexander. I'm back."

He might have said more, but he found himself with an armful of Alexander. He held Alexander close and rested his check on the king's head. He closed his eyes in contentment, breathing in the scent of Alexander. He was finally back where he belonged.

They stood together silently like that for a time; Hephaistion was finally brought back from his euphoria when he realized he couldn't feel his arms properly. Alexander was gripping him a bit too tightly. Hephaistion looked up and saw that Ptolemy and Harpalos had finally left, though the squires were milling around the room uncertainly, throwing glances at the two of them.

"We're making a spectacle of ourselves," Hephaistion said softly.

"I don't care," Alexander mumbled from where his head was buried in Hephaistion's shoulder. But he loosened his grip on Hephaistion and pulled back enough to look in the other man's face. Hephaistion placed his hand on Alexander's cheek, seeing more clearly the lines of exhaustion that crossed his friend's face. "You're finally here," Alexander whispered.

"Yes," he replied just as quietly. Alexander pulled him down and kissed him gently. Hephaistion responded eagerly; the simple touch of Alexander's lips made him feel more alive than he had once these past months.

A shuffle and a bump from the other side of the room made him pull back. One of the squires had been so busy staring he'd tripped over a chair. Alexander turned around to see and Hephaistion could tell without looking that he was smiling. "Take the rest of the night for yourselves," he said to all three squires. He didn't make any move to leave Hephaistion's embrace.

"You won't need help undressing?" the youngest asked uncertainly. Hephaistion covered a grin by burying his face in Alexander's hair. The boy (the only one he didn't recognize) looked about thirteen, but surely that was old enough to guess why Alexander was sending them away.

"I'll be fine, thank you," Alexander told the boy kindly. "Take the night off, have a bit of fun."

They quickly filed from the room, though the youngest still looked confused. Hephaistion hoped someone took pity on the boy and explained some things to him soon. The last one out closed the door behind him, and Hephaistion and Alexander were alone together.

"I missed you," Hephaistion said quietly, tightening his arms around Alexander. Alexander turned his head around and smiled up at him. Hephaistion stared for a moment, dazed by Alexander's intensity, before giving Alexander another kiss. This one lasted quite a bit longer than the last one had and left them both breathless. Alexander slipped out of Hephaistion's arms and pulled him towards the bed. Hephaistion followed but worried; he'd promised to talk to Alexander tonight. Alexander unfastened Hephaistion's cloak and he decided it could wait till later.

He'd keep his promise to Ptolemy. Alexander's passionate moods were too rare to pass up. Besides, he'd spent six months chaste in Thrace and wanted this every bit as much as Alexander did. He pulled off Alexander's fine clothes, reminding himself to be careful least he rip the rich fabric. Alexander was being somewhat less cautious of Hephaistion's plain traveling clothes; the desperation of his ardor made Hephaistion go hard.

They tumbled onto Alexander's bed together, kissing and caressing desperately. Peritas, still gleeful over Hephaistion's return, jumped up with them. Alexander, laughing, pushed him off. Hephaistion rubbed his length against Alexander's, and the king's laugh turned into a moan. After that, Hephaistion quickly lost all coherent thought.

* * *
A sharp elbow to the side made Hephaistion wake with a grunt. He turned to see Alexander tossing in his sleep beside him. Hephaistion frowned in concern and suddenly remembered his promise to Ptolemy and Harpalos. The earlier passion had entirely driven it from his mind and they'd fallen asleep shortly thereafter.

He wondered guiltily if he should have tried to talk to Alexander from the beginning. But Alexander had been very persuasive and Hephaistion hadn't needed much persuasion to wait till later.

Now he regretted his earlier decision. Alexander almost never tossed and turned in his sleep. Hephaistion hesitated for a moment then decided to wake up Alexander. He placed a hand on his friend's shoulder and murmured, "Alexander."

Alexander woke with a start, breathing hard and barely noticing Hephaistion. He shivered though it wasn't cold and wrapped his arms around himself. Hephaistion sat up and held Alexander in his arms until the shivering stopped. "What did you dream?" he asked softly. Dreams were potent things; if it had been truly awful, it was best if Alexander didn't keep it to himself.

Alexander pulled away from him and lay back on the bed. "The same thing I've dreamed every night for the past two months."

Two months... "Philip's death?" Hephaistion guessed. Alexander nodded. Hephaistion also lay back down and gazed at Alexander calmly. "Did you help kill him?" he asked.

Alexander whirled on him. "No! I had nothing to do with it!" He broke off when Hephaistion laid a hand on his arm.

"Of course you didn't," Hephaistion agreed. He'd never really thought Alexander had, and any remaining doubts were now washed away with Alexander's reaction.

"People are saying I did," Alexander said. He fiddled with the sheet distractedly. "It's not hard to believe. Everyone knows I hated him."

"But that doesn't make it true," Hephaistion pointed out. "And if they'd really believed it, they'd have never named you king."

Alexander drew a shuddering breath. "No. You're right. But..." He finally looked at Hephaistion in the eye and Hephaistion knew this was what Alexander had been losing sleep over. "I wished he was dead. I wanted him to die. I would be king, mother would be happy... Does it make a difference, that I didn't kill him when I wanted to?"

"I think it does." He thought of Philip. "You wouldn't ever have killed him, no matter how much you said you wanted to or how much the Queen wanted you to. You loved him."

"Did I?" Alexander's voice wavered.

Hephaistion ran a hand gently through Alexander's hair. "Of course you did. And you still do." Alexander shuddered and covered his face. Hephaistion held him as he wept.

"I miss him," Alexander said after some time. "I didn't think I would. It wasn't like I was used to having him around, but this isn't the same as when he was away on campaign." Hephaistion ran his hands soothingly down the young king's back. Alexander pulled back and took Hephaistion's face in his hands. "You're back now. It helps."

"I'm sorry that I wasn't here when you needed me. You know I didn't want to go."

"And that your exile was all my fault," Alexander added. Hephaistion opened his mouth to protest, but Alexander cut him off with a kiss. "I know it's true," he said. "But you are back now and I mean to keep you with me from now on."

"Of course," Hephaistion answered lovingly. He remembered the cross he'd passed on the way here and wondered if he should mention it now or save it for later. "How has your mother been?" he finally asked.

Alexander frowned. "Happy. Too happy." He kissed Hephaistion again. "I don't want to talk about it." There was a certain look in his eyes.

"Then what do you want to talk about?" Hephaistion inquired, raising an eyebrow teasingly. He was willing to wait for another day to bring up the delicate subject of Olympias.

"I don't want to talk at all," Alexander replied. Hephaistion, who didn't really feel like talking anymore either, rolled on top of Alexander. With this language, there was no need for words.

* * *
Hephaistion woke of his own accord as dawn was breaking. He and Alexander lay loosely entwined within each other's arms. He looked at Alexander's face and found it calm and peaceful. He smiled, glad that Alexander had finally gotten some sleep.

He stared out the window. Large, fluffy white clouds drifted lazily across a sky painted in light pastels. He could see the hill where his parents' home was and wondered if they were awake yet. Lying here quietly like this, it was easy to forget how many things had changed during his exile.

For a moment he wished that none of it had come to pass. He wished the Philip was still alive; the king may not have been perfect and the gods knew he hadn't been a good father to Alexander, but he had been good for Macedon. Philip had been the king Hephaistion had admired from afar as a boy and later admired from closer up as a youth. If not for Philip, Amyntor would have never come to Macedon and Hephaistion wouldn't have met Alexander. It was hard to imagine a Macedon that didn't have Philip as king. He could understand why the rest of Greece already thought Macedon would begin loosing power. If he hadn't known Alexander as he did, he too would have thought no one could ever succeed a king as powerful and as persuasive as Philip.

He wished that Pausanias hadn't finally gone mad. He hadn't heard yet if anyone had wondered why the man had waited this long to finally kill Philip. Hephaistion supposed someone, or a group of people, had done something to renew that old anger in Philip's former lover. He wished that Pausanias was still alive; the man had been difficult sometimes, but hadn't deserved his lot in life. He wished it even remembering the way Pausanias had sometimes looked at him, a look that said, "It's dangerous to love a king."

He wished the whole spectacle hadn't happened during Kleopatra's wedding. She was a sweet, quiet girl, so much so that Hephaistion sometimes wondered if she was really Olympias and Philip's daughter. He remembered meeting Alexander of Epiros; he was a honorable and decent man who would do his best by Kleopatra. Hephaistion would have to ask Alexander later if Kleopatra was doing well.

He wished that no one else had had to die. Traitors though they might have been, he could wish that Amyntas and the brothers of Alexander of Lyncestis still lived. He wished the Eurydike hadn't hung herself; he hadn't thought much of the girl, but he could empathize with anyone suffering beneath Olympias's ire.

But more than anything else, he wished that he could have been here for Alexander through all of it. It was a horrible way to become king, right after seeing his father murdered by a man he trusted. Then to see his mother rejoicing over his father's death and giving praise to the murderer. Being king was what Alexander had wanted, but not like this. He was strong enough to manage despite of all of it, but he shouldn't have to, and certainly not alone.

Hephaistion ran a hand through Alexander's hair and mutely repeated his promise from last night. I will never leave you again. Not if I can help it. I will be here to help you face life. That is all I want in life.

Some men dreamed of glory and honor. Some dreamed of riches and prosperity. Some dreamed of fame and power. Some dreamed more simply, of family and a good home and a long life. Hephaistion dreamed those things too sometimes, but most of his dreams were to be with Alexander. So long as he was with Alexander, the glory and riches and fame would come along without his looking for them; Alexander had always been destined for greatness. And Hephaistion's destiny was to be there beside Alexander, helping him to greatness. If nothing else, his exile away from Alexander had shown him that Alexander needed him.

It was for love that he stayed with Alexander; he needed none of the rest. Alexander, who did need the rest to soothe his burning soul, needed Hephaistion in order to be strong enough to grasp his destiny.

Hephaistion smiled. It was good to be home. Things had changed, Alexander had changed. But their love hadn't changed, and Hephaistion could weather anything so long as he had Alexander, as Alexander could weather anything so long as he had Hephaistion.
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