Story: A Stolen Moment (Bagoas/Ismenios)
Just to gross out you eunuch haters (wink), a bit of (coughs at the bad wording) "non-canon" story. I know some of you throw fits at the whole use of "Renault-verse" but actually, I think this story fits the term better than anything, considering I just swiped and filled out a scene from her book. (grin) So there! (sticks out tongue and then laughs) And yes, it's mushy. I like mushy. I like cute and fluffy.
Ismenios woke to the rumors being muttered about in the pages tent. The king would marry the barbarian woman who danced last night. The boy frowned. Why the hell would the king do that, when he had a perfectly good bedmate already? He sponged off in the freezing water, mainly to wake himself up, ignoring the other boys' continued mutterings against the king's odd decision and headed to the gymnasium.
He was not ten feet from the pages tent when he saw him. Bagoas, easily the most attractive human Ismenios had ever seen, was staring forlornly out of his own tent up in the direction of the citadel. Obviously, the king's lover had heard the news. Before Ismenios could summon the courage to call out to him, the Persian eunuch disappeared behind the curtain of the tent doorway. Ismenios frowned and continued on to his destination.
He'd been madly in love with Bagoas since he'd first seen him. Delicate, loose-limbed, and exotic, Bagoas was the stuff that Ismenios dreamed of but never really thought existed. While intensely curious about Bagoas' status as a eunuch, Ismenios had at first mooned mostly over the other boy's looks. He was simply gorgeous. While Ismenios thought the Persian was aware of his beauty, he wasn't aware of it on a level of knowing what affect it had on the senses of others around him. Bagoas simply took for granted that he had looks and went on his merry way. Perhaps, Ismenios had reflected, it was Bagoas' way of seeing worth in himself, since he had no worth otherwise as a warrior or anything of manly status.
Yet as time went on and Ismenios got to know more about Bagoas, he was less curious about Bagoas' status as a eunuch. He became more obsessed with Bagoas as a lover ... Alexander's lover. Ismenios had briefly caught a look at Bagoas' private area in the communal latrine a few times, and while horrified at the rather deflated look of Bagoas' balls, had been relieved that they were actually there. He began to fantasize that love could bring back what man had taken away. After all, love could do anything, right? And as the primary focus of his fantasies, Ismenios dreamed that Bagoas loving him would make the Persian a man again.
However, that wasn't going to happen as long as Alexander loved Bagoas and vice versa. And love Alexander Bagoas did, with a passion that Ismenios had never seen before. A devotion so intense, so strong that it was mind-boggling to think coming from a barbarian. But Bagoas wasn't a barbarian, Ismenios didn't care what Callisthenes said. He was gentle, giving, generous, thoughtful, resilient, intelligent and usually confident of his place in the world. If there were flaws, Ismenios had yet to see any and he had looked for a time, thinking Bagoas simply too good to be true.
The gymnasium was fit to bursting with exercisers, and spotting some his fellow Pages in a corner, all huddled together in what damningly looked like a conspiracy, Ismenios deemed it wise to just skip the gymnasium this morning and find something else to do. Those that listened and believed every word of Callisthenes' lectures tormented Ismenios something fierce in regards to his fondness for the Persian eunuch. Leaving the arena unnoticed, however, was not predestined for Ismenios, because Hermalaos spotted him just as he was turning on his heel and bore down on him like a bull charging a cow.
"Ismenios!" Hermalaos called tersely. Ismenios gave a tense smile of greeting. Hermalaos was older than he by a couple of years and was technically a 'superior' in their group; therefore, he commanded some respect and submissiveness. Inwardly, though, Ismenios bristled at the older boy's arrogant manner. "Have you heard about Alexander's wedding?" Hermalaos sounded outraged.
"Who hasn't?" Ismenios answered mildly.
Sostratos, Hermalaos' lover and sycophant, barked a derisive laugh. "He's just making himself into a bigger fool and with another barbarian no less!" The exclamation was made in lower tones so as not to be overheard by any of the soldiers nearby. To speak so was treason, but apparently, dumb as Sostratos was, he wasn't dumb enough to be caught making treasonous comments.
Thinking merely to agree placatingly with them just to avoid an argument, Ismenios replied, "At least it's a woman this time."
"That's even worse," snorted Hermalaos. "If he begets an son off her then we'll be ruled in the future by a half-barbarian. Tainted blood!"
Ismenios felt his temper rise and struggled to hold onto it. "Well, you can't have everything with Alexander," he answered tersely. "Either stick with the eunuch or choose the woman. He's not giving you any other option." Certain he was going to wind up in a fight if this continued, Ismenios gave them both quick nods of farewell and tried to quickly leave.
"Still have a crush on the little Persian trash?" sneered Hermalaos. The comment was just loud enough that those nearby heard it. It was not treason to provoke a peer regarding his own preferences of sexual partners.
Ismenios curled his hands into fists, willing himself to remain calm. They were unarmed and unarmed Hermalaos was the better fighter. They both knew it. "His name is Bagoas and he's done nothing to you to earn your enmity."
"He exists and he defames our king, that's enough for me," spat Hermalaos maliciously. Ismenios didn't answer but forced his feet to begin walking again. Let them think he was a coward for walking away, Ismenios thought, he would know inside that he wasn't.
"I know you didn't mean that comment to sound that way, Hermalaos." The voice was soft, dangerous and came from behind all three boys. They turned and Hermalaos went pale. Sostratos gave a little gasp and tried to dart a ways behind his lover and leader. Hephaestion, friend to the king, stood there, sweat glistening on his body. Where he'd come from was anyone's guess but it was obvious he'd heard the comment and was very angry. "You certainly didn't mean to say that Alexander is less just because he has the spoils of war in his bedchamber? You weren't commenting that Alexander, and anyone else who beds a Persian, is less than you are."
Hermalaos stammered but couldn't formulate a reply. It was well-known that Hephaestion was more to Alexander than anyone could understand. Their devotion and understanding of each other was uncanny and utterly indefinable. That Hephaestion would defend Alexander's honor viciously was never in doubt; in fact, the Macedonian general was more obsessed with Alexander's honor than his own.
Ismenios couldn't help but cackle inwardly with glee. Hermalaos and Sostratos had just stepped into the biggest pile of horse dung they could have found, metaphorically speaking.
"No, no, General Hephaestion, it's just that - well, we were just saying - the eunuch, he - " Sostratos attempted to offer an explanation but didn't do much better than Hermalaos, who was still speechless.
"You will of course apologize for your ill-chosen words?" Hephaestion's voice was still deceptively mild, but anger sparked the gold in the brown depths of his eyes. "And you will apologize to Ismenios for admiring a nice figure."
"We meant no harm, General Hephaestion," Hermalaos agreed quickly, his voice a bit croaky. "Just ill-chosen words, as you said. Rhetoric was never my strongest subject."
"Yes, yes," Sostratos added for his own benefit.
As one the two boys turned to Ismenios. "We apologize, Ismenios," Hermalaos said in a contrite tone, but his eyes spoke otherwise. "We meant no offense." Looking at Hephaestion, who nodded once in encouragement, Ismenios gave a sweet smile that he knew held a trace of triumph and graciously accepted their apology. He then turned and left the tent as quickly as he could.
Food was a better option than exercise at the moment.
As he walked across the campsite back toward the pages tents, he paused again at Bagoas' tent. He chewed on his lip a moment, wondering if it would be bold to beg an audience with the eunuch. 'Just to talk,' he told himself. 'Bagoas always seems a little isolated when away from the king.'
"Ismenios." He turned, startled to find Alexander stalking toward him.
"King Alexander!" Ismenios sketched a hasty, respectful bow as his liege stopped before him.
"Will you stand guard at my tent? I seem to be missing a page. Have you seen Hermalaos?" Ismenios felt a smile break through and regretted it when Alexander snapped, "Why do you smile?"
Ismenios immediately wiped the smile from his face. "Yes, Alexander, I saw him and Sostratos with other pages in the gymnasium just now."
Alexander gave Ismenios a searching look before nodding tersely once. "Very well. Apparently the schedule was shifted again and Hermalaos has forgotten his shift time." 'Not likely,' thought Ismenios but he didn't say it out loud. "And have you seen Hephaestion? I've plans that need to be made for this evening's festivities."
"He too was there, Alexander."
Alexander nodded. "Excellent. You're a good lad, Ismenios. Oh and if you see Bagoas, tell him he's excused for the day." Ismenios wasn't certain but he thought he heard Alexander add under his breath something to the effect that he wouldn't bother Hephaestion if he could help it. Puzzling at that, Ismenios went into the pages tent, donned his gear and quickly assumed position outside Alexander's tent door.
Philamenos was standing on one side, looking bored out of his skull. It was never exciting when the king wasn't around. Guarding an empty tent was never the highlight of their days. They nodded good morning to each other but did not speak. While Philamenos was one of Hermalaos' friends, he had shown no animosity toward Ismenios so Ismenios was inclined to be friendlier to the other boy.
They stood there for about a half an hour in silence, watching the camp mill about, listening to the gossip regarding the king's upcoming marriage, and shifting their weight on occasion so as not to get stiff muscles. It was not unusual for one of the officers to come by and order them to do something just to see how quickly they moved. The pages were being trained to be on guard, alert and ready for action at all times while on duty.
Ismenios' breath caught two hours into his watch as a familiar figure approached the tent. His footsteps obviously heavy, his face forlorn, Bagoas gave the two pages a smile all the same and reached for the flap that covered the door.
"Alexander asked me to relay a message to you," Ismenios said. He grimaced; he'd sounded harsh.
Bagoas gave him a startled look then it turned curious. "This message is?" His voice was a high tenor yet didn't break or squeak. It wasn't a pretty voice but it wasn't displeasing either. In fact, Ismenios thought it was a nice, calming voice.
"He said that you have the day to yourself." Ismenios watched Bagoas' expression turn brooding and hasten to add, even though it wasn't part of the message, "Only if you desire. He wishes you to enjoy yourself." Bagoas only gave a small nod, turned and walked away.
"That was cruel." Philamenos watched Bagoas walk away.
"I just did as I was ordered," defended Ismenios, miserable for causing Bagoas further misery.
"You could have been nicer about it," chided Philamenos.
Angry with himself because it was true, Ismenios snapped back, "I didn't mean it to sound so...so..."
"Mean," supplied Philamenos in a bemused voice. Ismenios only sighed. "You're jealous, but Bagoas is the one who has been cast aside."
Ismenios gave Philamenos a startled look. "You've never approved of the king's relations with Bagoas, why do you care?"
Philamenos shrugged. "Just because I don't approve doesn't mean I can't accept. I'm not as bull-headed as Hermalaos, you know, and I don't swallow every lure Callisthenes casts out whole."
Ismenios only sighed and straightened his posture as General Ptolemy went stalking by, arguing with two officers that Ismenios didn't recognize. "It's done now, and cannot be undone."
He felt Philamenos' gaze upon him and heard his grunt of agreement. They said no more until the end of their watch. Alexander gave them each a small gift in honor of his coming nuptials. The two pages thanked him and wished him joy, then left to join the celebration that was already beginning. Though the ceremony had not begun, soldiers never needed a reason to enjoy themselves. The opportunities were rare and to be taken advantage of whenever they came.
Ismenios wandered aimlessly, stopping to talk with acquaintances and friends. Twice he saw generals in armored splendor moving through the soldiers and celebrators, mingling with the intention of making sure there wasn't any dissent. Several didn't look happy with the proceedings but their honor and loyalty demanded they obey and respect their king's wishes. Ismenios didn't catch sight of the person he sought until reports of Alexander's vows to this Roxanne woman had reached those not with the wedding party. There was a raucous cheer, somewhat forced and disapproving, and the partying resumed.
Bagoas drifted out of a crowd and Ismenios, resolved to apologize for his earlier harshness, hurried toward him. Bagoas vanished in the crowd again and Ismenios frowned. He turned this way and that, his eyes searching for the distinctive figure of a lithe Persian dancer. He spotted Bagoas again, half-heartedly toasting the king's marriage with some other Persians that Ismenios didn't know. Bagoas left the group and was luckily heading in Ismenios' direction.
Remembering that he needed to be bold if he wanted to catch Bagoas' attention even for a short moment, Ismenios reached out to touch Bagoas' arm, to halt the smaller boy's progress.
When he saw who it was who halted him, Bagoas gave a smile, causing Ismenios' heart to beat faster. "She is beautiful," the eunuch said in a tight voice that meant to be light but failed. "Do you envy the bridegroom?"
Ismenios felt his head leave his shoulders. Something in Bagoas' eyes invited flirtation, as if recklessness enveloped his spirit, conspired to send him to another's arms even for an evening. Ismenios knew in that moment it had to be him or he'd die. This was his chance to love Bagoas, to show him what he meant to him. "No," Ismenios whispered in Bagoas' ear, his voice going husky from desire, "but I did before."
Bagoas looked into his eyes, divining Ismenios' wish almost instantly. To Ismenios' amazement, Bagoas gave a genuine smile and his arms slid around Ismenios' waist. They spoke not a word but slowly slipped from the crowd. Ismenios' heart pounded so loudly he wondered that Bagoas didn't comment on it. Eagerness made him want to find the first place and take Bagoas there. Yet the desire the cherish the dreamed of moment forced him to find a secluded area, trees casting shadows upon them from the bright moonlight above, and the wind whispering soulfully at them through the leaves. Ismenios was certain he'd found the perfect place to show Bagoas what the Persian meant to him.
"You're so beautiful," Ismenios breathed in wonder as he touched Bagoas' cheek. Bagoas turned his head away for a moment, murmuring something in Persian that Ismenios didn't understand. It sounded like a denial to him so he reiterated it. "So beautiful. How Alexander could think anyone could compare to you, I have no idea. You are peerless."
Ismenios quickly removed his cloak and spread it on the grass. He gently pressed Bagoas down, reverently kissing the other's lips, eyes, nose, cheeks and chin. He tried to be gentle but his desire was so strong that soon he was fumbling with the buttons of Bagoas' rich tunic. Bagoas, with practiced ease, undid the buttons quicker and began to disrobe Ismenios with even more practiced motions. It made Ismenios momentarily squirm, reflecting on how Bagoas came to be so knowledgeable with undressing himself and a lover. He still seemed so young to Ismenios, even though they had to be roughly the same age. Perhaps it was the Persian's delicate body that gave such a perception.
"Bagoas, I -" he began, wanting to explain his feelings, but Bagoas hushed him a finger on his lips and then a kiss that sent Ismenios' temperature soaring. All thoughts of where Bagoas got his experience fled right from Ismenios' head. The kiss became more heated and Ismenios, still attempting to be gentle, kept their pace slow. Bagoas seemed to be more demanding, but to Ismenios this was Bagoas' seduction. Apparently, the eunuch had never been seduced before.
They came together, Ismenios sinking into Bagoas' body with a groan that rumbled his chest in pure animal satisfaction. It was better than Ismenios ever dreamed. Bagoas was so perfect. Smooth, supple, skin like dark ivory, and tasting of wine and spice, Bagoas was ambrosia of the gods, Ismenios was certain of it. Never again would he touch the sphere of the gods; never again would he want to.
He thought he felt Bagoas tense as he began to move in the rhythm of nature, thought he felt tears on Bagoas' face but when he brushed his lover's cheeks, he felt no wetness. So he kissed him deeply, devotedly, savoring the pleasure that Bagoas' hands brought him even has he reached the breaking point within Bagoas' tight sheath. He came with a gasp that tore the air from his lungs, almost making him pass out. Bagoas continued to caress and stroke, murmuring nonsense that Ismenios was too overcome to comprehend.
At that moment, Ismenios agreed with Hermalaos and his friends, though not for the same reason: Alexander was a fool. A fool to prefer for one moment a woman to the perfection beneath him.
The aftermath was almost as good. Bagoas petted and pampered while Ismenios drowsed from his exertions. Bagoas talked of nothings and slowly Ismenios began to talk to him as well. They talked of philosophy, Alexander's plans, Ismenios' home and family. Ismenios felt Bagoas' hands begin to caress him in that erotic manner and soon Ismenios found himself buried within Bagoas once more, desire spiraling through him, causing him to lose himself again. After he'd spent again, he murmured against Bagoas' neck that he seemed insatiable.
"I've wanted you for almost a year now. It took me awhile to realize how much I loved you," he confessed. Bagoas said nothing in reply; Ismenios hadn't expected one. He knew how much Bagoas loved Alexander. It was there for the entire world to see, if only they looked.
Again they lay in each other’s arms, savoring their body heat and covered by Bagoas' fine coat. Finally Bagoas spoke, his tone firm yet kind. "We have dreamed, dear friend. Another time, we might waken. Let it be a dream forgotten in the morning."
Ismenios felt his heart drop into his stomach but he only nodded and kissed Bagoas' neck tenderly. He knew what that meant. No one, Alexander especially, was to ever know of the night's events together. He tightened his hold on Bagoas' waist and replied, "I promise. Never a word, not even if we're alone. I'm lucky having it to remember. Of course, he'll want you back. Anyone would." Ismenios said the words as ferverently as possible. If he could not have him, then Bagoas deserved to belong to one such as Alexander. He longed to add, though, out of selfishness, "If he does not take you back, though, think of me." He didn't say the words. He couldn't.
Bagoas would never be his except in a memory of a stolen moment.
Ismenios woke to the rumors being muttered about in the pages tent. The king would marry the barbarian woman who danced last night. The boy frowned. Why the hell would the king do that, when he had a perfectly good bedmate already? He sponged off in the freezing water, mainly to wake himself up, ignoring the other boys' continued mutterings against the king's odd decision and headed to the gymnasium.
He was not ten feet from the pages tent when he saw him. Bagoas, easily the most attractive human Ismenios had ever seen, was staring forlornly out of his own tent up in the direction of the citadel. Obviously, the king's lover had heard the news. Before Ismenios could summon the courage to call out to him, the Persian eunuch disappeared behind the curtain of the tent doorway. Ismenios frowned and continued on to his destination.
He'd been madly in love with Bagoas since he'd first seen him. Delicate, loose-limbed, and exotic, Bagoas was the stuff that Ismenios dreamed of but never really thought existed. While intensely curious about Bagoas' status as a eunuch, Ismenios had at first mooned mostly over the other boy's looks. He was simply gorgeous. While Ismenios thought the Persian was aware of his beauty, he wasn't aware of it on a level of knowing what affect it had on the senses of others around him. Bagoas simply took for granted that he had looks and went on his merry way. Perhaps, Ismenios had reflected, it was Bagoas' way of seeing worth in himself, since he had no worth otherwise as a warrior or anything of manly status.
Yet as time went on and Ismenios got to know more about Bagoas, he was less curious about Bagoas' status as a eunuch. He became more obsessed with Bagoas as a lover ... Alexander's lover. Ismenios had briefly caught a look at Bagoas' private area in the communal latrine a few times, and while horrified at the rather deflated look of Bagoas' balls, had been relieved that they were actually there. He began to fantasize that love could bring back what man had taken away. After all, love could do anything, right? And as the primary focus of his fantasies, Ismenios dreamed that Bagoas loving him would make the Persian a man again.
However, that wasn't going to happen as long as Alexander loved Bagoas and vice versa. And love Alexander Bagoas did, with a passion that Ismenios had never seen before. A devotion so intense, so strong that it was mind-boggling to think coming from a barbarian. But Bagoas wasn't a barbarian, Ismenios didn't care what Callisthenes said. He was gentle, giving, generous, thoughtful, resilient, intelligent and usually confident of his place in the world. If there were flaws, Ismenios had yet to see any and he had looked for a time, thinking Bagoas simply too good to be true.
The gymnasium was fit to bursting with exercisers, and spotting some his fellow Pages in a corner, all huddled together in what damningly looked like a conspiracy, Ismenios deemed it wise to just skip the gymnasium this morning and find something else to do. Those that listened and believed every word of Callisthenes' lectures tormented Ismenios something fierce in regards to his fondness for the Persian eunuch. Leaving the arena unnoticed, however, was not predestined for Ismenios, because Hermalaos spotted him just as he was turning on his heel and bore down on him like a bull charging a cow.
"Ismenios!" Hermalaos called tersely. Ismenios gave a tense smile of greeting. Hermalaos was older than he by a couple of years and was technically a 'superior' in their group; therefore, he commanded some respect and submissiveness. Inwardly, though, Ismenios bristled at the older boy's arrogant manner. "Have you heard about Alexander's wedding?" Hermalaos sounded outraged.
"Who hasn't?" Ismenios answered mildly.
Sostratos, Hermalaos' lover and sycophant, barked a derisive laugh. "He's just making himself into a bigger fool and with another barbarian no less!" The exclamation was made in lower tones so as not to be overheard by any of the soldiers nearby. To speak so was treason, but apparently, dumb as Sostratos was, he wasn't dumb enough to be caught making treasonous comments.
Thinking merely to agree placatingly with them just to avoid an argument, Ismenios replied, "At least it's a woman this time."
"That's even worse," snorted Hermalaos. "If he begets an son off her then we'll be ruled in the future by a half-barbarian. Tainted blood!"
Ismenios felt his temper rise and struggled to hold onto it. "Well, you can't have everything with Alexander," he answered tersely. "Either stick with the eunuch or choose the woman. He's not giving you any other option." Certain he was going to wind up in a fight if this continued, Ismenios gave them both quick nods of farewell and tried to quickly leave.
"Still have a crush on the little Persian trash?" sneered Hermalaos. The comment was just loud enough that those nearby heard it. It was not treason to provoke a peer regarding his own preferences of sexual partners.
Ismenios curled his hands into fists, willing himself to remain calm. They were unarmed and unarmed Hermalaos was the better fighter. They both knew it. "His name is Bagoas and he's done nothing to you to earn your enmity."
"He exists and he defames our king, that's enough for me," spat Hermalaos maliciously. Ismenios didn't answer but forced his feet to begin walking again. Let them think he was a coward for walking away, Ismenios thought, he would know inside that he wasn't.
"I know you didn't mean that comment to sound that way, Hermalaos." The voice was soft, dangerous and came from behind all three boys. They turned and Hermalaos went pale. Sostratos gave a little gasp and tried to dart a ways behind his lover and leader. Hephaestion, friend to the king, stood there, sweat glistening on his body. Where he'd come from was anyone's guess but it was obvious he'd heard the comment and was very angry. "You certainly didn't mean to say that Alexander is less just because he has the spoils of war in his bedchamber? You weren't commenting that Alexander, and anyone else who beds a Persian, is less than you are."
Hermalaos stammered but couldn't formulate a reply. It was well-known that Hephaestion was more to Alexander than anyone could understand. Their devotion and understanding of each other was uncanny and utterly indefinable. That Hephaestion would defend Alexander's honor viciously was never in doubt; in fact, the Macedonian general was more obsessed with Alexander's honor than his own.
Ismenios couldn't help but cackle inwardly with glee. Hermalaos and Sostratos had just stepped into the biggest pile of horse dung they could have found, metaphorically speaking.
"No, no, General Hephaestion, it's just that - well, we were just saying - the eunuch, he - " Sostratos attempted to offer an explanation but didn't do much better than Hermalaos, who was still speechless.
"You will of course apologize for your ill-chosen words?" Hephaestion's voice was still deceptively mild, but anger sparked the gold in the brown depths of his eyes. "And you will apologize to Ismenios for admiring a nice figure."
"We meant no harm, General Hephaestion," Hermalaos agreed quickly, his voice a bit croaky. "Just ill-chosen words, as you said. Rhetoric was never my strongest subject."
"Yes, yes," Sostratos added for his own benefit.
As one the two boys turned to Ismenios. "We apologize, Ismenios," Hermalaos said in a contrite tone, but his eyes spoke otherwise. "We meant no offense." Looking at Hephaestion, who nodded once in encouragement, Ismenios gave a sweet smile that he knew held a trace of triumph and graciously accepted their apology. He then turned and left the tent as quickly as he could.
Food was a better option than exercise at the moment.
As he walked across the campsite back toward the pages tents, he paused again at Bagoas' tent. He chewed on his lip a moment, wondering if it would be bold to beg an audience with the eunuch. 'Just to talk,' he told himself. 'Bagoas always seems a little isolated when away from the king.'
"Ismenios." He turned, startled to find Alexander stalking toward him.
"King Alexander!" Ismenios sketched a hasty, respectful bow as his liege stopped before him.
"Will you stand guard at my tent? I seem to be missing a page. Have you seen Hermalaos?" Ismenios felt a smile break through and regretted it when Alexander snapped, "Why do you smile?"
Ismenios immediately wiped the smile from his face. "Yes, Alexander, I saw him and Sostratos with other pages in the gymnasium just now."
Alexander gave Ismenios a searching look before nodding tersely once. "Very well. Apparently the schedule was shifted again and Hermalaos has forgotten his shift time." 'Not likely,' thought Ismenios but he didn't say it out loud. "And have you seen Hephaestion? I've plans that need to be made for this evening's festivities."
"He too was there, Alexander."
Alexander nodded. "Excellent. You're a good lad, Ismenios. Oh and if you see Bagoas, tell him he's excused for the day." Ismenios wasn't certain but he thought he heard Alexander add under his breath something to the effect that he wouldn't bother Hephaestion if he could help it. Puzzling at that, Ismenios went into the pages tent, donned his gear and quickly assumed position outside Alexander's tent door.
Philamenos was standing on one side, looking bored out of his skull. It was never exciting when the king wasn't around. Guarding an empty tent was never the highlight of their days. They nodded good morning to each other but did not speak. While Philamenos was one of Hermalaos' friends, he had shown no animosity toward Ismenios so Ismenios was inclined to be friendlier to the other boy.
They stood there for about a half an hour in silence, watching the camp mill about, listening to the gossip regarding the king's upcoming marriage, and shifting their weight on occasion so as not to get stiff muscles. It was not unusual for one of the officers to come by and order them to do something just to see how quickly they moved. The pages were being trained to be on guard, alert and ready for action at all times while on duty.
Ismenios' breath caught two hours into his watch as a familiar figure approached the tent. His footsteps obviously heavy, his face forlorn, Bagoas gave the two pages a smile all the same and reached for the flap that covered the door.
"Alexander asked me to relay a message to you," Ismenios said. He grimaced; he'd sounded harsh.
Bagoas gave him a startled look then it turned curious. "This message is?" His voice was a high tenor yet didn't break or squeak. It wasn't a pretty voice but it wasn't displeasing either. In fact, Ismenios thought it was a nice, calming voice.
"He said that you have the day to yourself." Ismenios watched Bagoas' expression turn brooding and hasten to add, even though it wasn't part of the message, "Only if you desire. He wishes you to enjoy yourself." Bagoas only gave a small nod, turned and walked away.
"That was cruel." Philamenos watched Bagoas walk away.
"I just did as I was ordered," defended Ismenios, miserable for causing Bagoas further misery.
"You could have been nicer about it," chided Philamenos.
Angry with himself because it was true, Ismenios snapped back, "I didn't mean it to sound so...so..."
"Mean," supplied Philamenos in a bemused voice. Ismenios only sighed. "You're jealous, but Bagoas is the one who has been cast aside."
Ismenios gave Philamenos a startled look. "You've never approved of the king's relations with Bagoas, why do you care?"
Philamenos shrugged. "Just because I don't approve doesn't mean I can't accept. I'm not as bull-headed as Hermalaos, you know, and I don't swallow every lure Callisthenes casts out whole."
Ismenios only sighed and straightened his posture as General Ptolemy went stalking by, arguing with two officers that Ismenios didn't recognize. "It's done now, and cannot be undone."
He felt Philamenos' gaze upon him and heard his grunt of agreement. They said no more until the end of their watch. Alexander gave them each a small gift in honor of his coming nuptials. The two pages thanked him and wished him joy, then left to join the celebration that was already beginning. Though the ceremony had not begun, soldiers never needed a reason to enjoy themselves. The opportunities were rare and to be taken advantage of whenever they came.
Ismenios wandered aimlessly, stopping to talk with acquaintances and friends. Twice he saw generals in armored splendor moving through the soldiers and celebrators, mingling with the intention of making sure there wasn't any dissent. Several didn't look happy with the proceedings but their honor and loyalty demanded they obey and respect their king's wishes. Ismenios didn't catch sight of the person he sought until reports of Alexander's vows to this Roxanne woman had reached those not with the wedding party. There was a raucous cheer, somewhat forced and disapproving, and the partying resumed.
Bagoas drifted out of a crowd and Ismenios, resolved to apologize for his earlier harshness, hurried toward him. Bagoas vanished in the crowd again and Ismenios frowned. He turned this way and that, his eyes searching for the distinctive figure of a lithe Persian dancer. He spotted Bagoas again, half-heartedly toasting the king's marriage with some other Persians that Ismenios didn't know. Bagoas left the group and was luckily heading in Ismenios' direction.
Remembering that he needed to be bold if he wanted to catch Bagoas' attention even for a short moment, Ismenios reached out to touch Bagoas' arm, to halt the smaller boy's progress.
When he saw who it was who halted him, Bagoas gave a smile, causing Ismenios' heart to beat faster. "She is beautiful," the eunuch said in a tight voice that meant to be light but failed. "Do you envy the bridegroom?"
Ismenios felt his head leave his shoulders. Something in Bagoas' eyes invited flirtation, as if recklessness enveloped his spirit, conspired to send him to another's arms even for an evening. Ismenios knew in that moment it had to be him or he'd die. This was his chance to love Bagoas, to show him what he meant to him. "No," Ismenios whispered in Bagoas' ear, his voice going husky from desire, "but I did before."
Bagoas looked into his eyes, divining Ismenios' wish almost instantly. To Ismenios' amazement, Bagoas gave a genuine smile and his arms slid around Ismenios' waist. They spoke not a word but slowly slipped from the crowd. Ismenios' heart pounded so loudly he wondered that Bagoas didn't comment on it. Eagerness made him want to find the first place and take Bagoas there. Yet the desire the cherish the dreamed of moment forced him to find a secluded area, trees casting shadows upon them from the bright moonlight above, and the wind whispering soulfully at them through the leaves. Ismenios was certain he'd found the perfect place to show Bagoas what the Persian meant to him.
"You're so beautiful," Ismenios breathed in wonder as he touched Bagoas' cheek. Bagoas turned his head away for a moment, murmuring something in Persian that Ismenios didn't understand. It sounded like a denial to him so he reiterated it. "So beautiful. How Alexander could think anyone could compare to you, I have no idea. You are peerless."
Ismenios quickly removed his cloak and spread it on the grass. He gently pressed Bagoas down, reverently kissing the other's lips, eyes, nose, cheeks and chin. He tried to be gentle but his desire was so strong that soon he was fumbling with the buttons of Bagoas' rich tunic. Bagoas, with practiced ease, undid the buttons quicker and began to disrobe Ismenios with even more practiced motions. It made Ismenios momentarily squirm, reflecting on how Bagoas came to be so knowledgeable with undressing himself and a lover. He still seemed so young to Ismenios, even though they had to be roughly the same age. Perhaps it was the Persian's delicate body that gave such a perception.
"Bagoas, I -" he began, wanting to explain his feelings, but Bagoas hushed him a finger on his lips and then a kiss that sent Ismenios' temperature soaring. All thoughts of where Bagoas got his experience fled right from Ismenios' head. The kiss became more heated and Ismenios, still attempting to be gentle, kept their pace slow. Bagoas seemed to be more demanding, but to Ismenios this was Bagoas' seduction. Apparently, the eunuch had never been seduced before.
They came together, Ismenios sinking into Bagoas' body with a groan that rumbled his chest in pure animal satisfaction. It was better than Ismenios ever dreamed. Bagoas was so perfect. Smooth, supple, skin like dark ivory, and tasting of wine and spice, Bagoas was ambrosia of the gods, Ismenios was certain of it. Never again would he touch the sphere of the gods; never again would he want to.
He thought he felt Bagoas tense as he began to move in the rhythm of nature, thought he felt tears on Bagoas' face but when he brushed his lover's cheeks, he felt no wetness. So he kissed him deeply, devotedly, savoring the pleasure that Bagoas' hands brought him even has he reached the breaking point within Bagoas' tight sheath. He came with a gasp that tore the air from his lungs, almost making him pass out. Bagoas continued to caress and stroke, murmuring nonsense that Ismenios was too overcome to comprehend.
At that moment, Ismenios agreed with Hermalaos and his friends, though not for the same reason: Alexander was a fool. A fool to prefer for one moment a woman to the perfection beneath him.
The aftermath was almost as good. Bagoas petted and pampered while Ismenios drowsed from his exertions. Bagoas talked of nothings and slowly Ismenios began to talk to him as well. They talked of philosophy, Alexander's plans, Ismenios' home and family. Ismenios felt Bagoas' hands begin to caress him in that erotic manner and soon Ismenios found himself buried within Bagoas once more, desire spiraling through him, causing him to lose himself again. After he'd spent again, he murmured against Bagoas' neck that he seemed insatiable.
"I've wanted you for almost a year now. It took me awhile to realize how much I loved you," he confessed. Bagoas said nothing in reply; Ismenios hadn't expected one. He knew how much Bagoas loved Alexander. It was there for the entire world to see, if only they looked.
Again they lay in each other’s arms, savoring their body heat and covered by Bagoas' fine coat. Finally Bagoas spoke, his tone firm yet kind. "We have dreamed, dear friend. Another time, we might waken. Let it be a dream forgotten in the morning."
Ismenios felt his heart drop into his stomach but he only nodded and kissed Bagoas' neck tenderly. He knew what that meant. No one, Alexander especially, was to ever know of the night's events together. He tightened his hold on Bagoas' waist and replied, "I promise. Never a word, not even if we're alone. I'm lucky having it to remember. Of course, he'll want you back. Anyone would." Ismenios said the words as ferverently as possible. If he could not have him, then Bagoas deserved to belong to one such as Alexander. He longed to add, though, out of selfishness, "If he does not take you back, though, think of me." He didn't say the words. He couldn't.
Bagoas would never be his except in a memory of a stolen moment.