Story: "Fallen embers"
This was sparkled by a fic challenge on "eros athanatos". The challenge was to write a songfic and to include the lyrics of the song into the story. I never wrote a songfic before, but I wanted to try to make the song's lyrics part of the narration itself, and not just a quote. The song I chose is "fallen embers" by Enya - hence the title. (Italian version can be read here)
Title: Fallen embers
Author: Flora
Rating: R
Summary: Alexander and Hephaistion have to face the changes occured in their relationship
Notes: As always, thanks to susa_938 for being the best editor one may ever ask for.
Fallen embers
Zadrakarta had turned out to be an endless source of delight to Hephaistion. Spring was soft to the city after the hardships of the winter season, the light breezes blowing from the sea filtered through the large windows of the palace, making the night crispy and damp - touched with saltiness. Hephaistion hadn’t realized just how much he had missed that smell, until they had left the white rugged peaks of Media behind and the azure expanse of the Hyrkanian Sea had shimmered and sparkled before him in the dazzling sun.
The fort where they had settled was old and faced the shoreline. He liked being here. The luscious perfumes of sour citrus fruits and lemon trees reminded him of the endless afternoons of his youth, spent swimming and fishing in the deep dark waters of Phalereus, outside Athens’ walls. He had grown up by the sea, and these fragrances held the very taste of a homecoming.
His footsteps echoed heavily in the dark corridor, the din and racket from the banquet, lively still in the great hall, seemed to slide through the cold stones and spill out in the nightly air. Alèxandros had proclaimed a period of games and celebrations as soon as they’d set foot in Zadrakarta, and his soldiers had readily devoted themselves to all sorts of revelry. Men needed their rest, thought Hephaistion - and so did he.
He stopped before the thick wooden door giving access to Alèxandros’ private quarters, and the two soldiers on guard duty stepped aside without uttering a word. They were used to his presence, and had received orders to give him way at every hour of night and day. His leather boots, worn out by soldiering, sank deeply in the soft rugs as he crossed the room and pushed aside the heavy curtains which separated the living quarters from the inner chamber.
The king was sprawled on the huge bed, surrounded by silky cushions, sipping the wine a young dark-haired slave was pouring into a cup. Hephaistion lingered on the threshold, clearing his throat, and the youth respectfully withdrew.
Alèxandros turned to him, a swift sudden glimmer in his eyes.
“There you are. You don’t usually linger so long at symposia. Where have you been?”
“Perdikkas was in his cups tonight, he practically begged me to stay for a couple of toasts more. You missed Lysios’s whining. You should have heard him, singing one of his glorious paeans.”
Alèxandros grimaced, standing up. “I don’t think I’ll regret it. When he’s drunk, your brother howls like a woman in labour.” He laid his cup on the shelf near the bed and gestured to the boy who had remained still and silent in a corner. “You may retire now, Bagoas - thank you. I’ll see you in the morning.”
The youth graciously inclined his head. “May you have a pleasant night, my lord, “ he murmured then headed for the curtains. Hephaistion moved aside to let him pass, and Bagoas bowed imperceptibly to him as well - eyes pointed at the ground - before disappearing into the darkness of the antechamber.
The curtains closed with a silky rustle behind him. Hephaistion sighed and stepped forward, letting himself fall heavily on one of the couches. He grasped a goblet filled with wine, sniffed it briefly, then let it fall with a thump, spilling drops of pinkish liquid all over the table.
“Enough with wine, tonight. Especially of this watered, insipid horse’s piss.”
Alèxandros raised an eyebrow and smiled as he approached him. “Would you tell me what you did to that poor boy? You never fail to scare him half to death every time you show up.”
“Do I scare him? That’s nothing new - it seems most find me intimidating these days. However no, I didn’t do anything to him, we barely spoke. “
“You are too strict,” answered Alèxandros, and he was no longer talking about the boy, “You cow the youngest troopers, and I’ve been told your strictness is already a legend among my pages.”
“I’m effective,” Hephaistion snapped back, “the way you wanted me to be, Alèxandre. Such a big deal is constantly being made concerning what I am, where I am - and who put me here. I can do without accusations of ineptitude.“
Alèxandros raised his hands in a gesture of surrender and sat next to him, spreading his arms, and sprawling all over the cushions. “I get it Hephaistion. Not in a good mood, tonight. What about letting this argument drop?”
“Good idea, “ he cut short, suppressing a sigh, “and thinking about it, I wouldn’t mind another cup of that disgusting wine of yours,” and he reached out to take a goblet Alèxandros was handing him.
The chamber was barely lit by oil lamps and candles, the damasqued curtains at the windows were softly stirred by the night wind blowing from the sea, swelling them as if they were breathing. A bitter smell of burning oils and frankincense stagnated in the air, mingled with saltiness and the scents of gum arabic left to burn in the tripods. That wild mixture of odours made Hephaistion dizzy; he often wondered how Alèxandros could tolerate his bedroom stinking like a brothel. There were things which he still had to get accustomed to, things Alèxandros seemed perfectly comfortable with - and certainly not only mere oriental spices and perfumes. The king seemed to have taken a liking for more than one of this land’s peculiarities.
He grimaced. From the balcony facing the large lush garden he could hear the blurred buzzing of a few men and women who had moved outdoor to continue their private feast - and the impalpable sound of an aulos. A youth was murmuring a soft song, accompanied by the notes of his flute - and his voice was rising and bending in feeble, incorporeal volutes, sneaking through the curtains, and mingling with the thick smoke of incense and sandalwood in the room. Hephaistion closed his eyes, trying to discern the words dragged in by the wind.
Once, as my heart remembers
All the stars were fallen embers
Once, when night seemed forever
I was with you
Alèxandros slipped off his sandals and stretched his legs over him as he slowly sipped his wine. Hephaistion noticed he was wearing a short chiton of Tyrean purple and smiled, pleased. The king seemed to appreciate the long embellished Persian dress and had come to wear it more and more often of late. Yet, tonight he seemed perfectly comfortable with the clothes Hephaistion had seen him wearing for most of his life and this far from disappointed him. He laid a hand on Alèxandros’ thigh, and began to rub it slowly.
“I had no intention to scare him - the boy, I mean. But I can’t help it. He’s nervous and skittish as a cat, constantly on the alert, and he’s probably got it into his mind that I want to see him impaled on top of a pike, or something similar.”
Alèxandros, who had closed his eyes, reopened them half way - an amused glint in his grey gaze. “Don’t forget where he comes from. He was Dareios’ pleasure boy; he was forced to grow diffident and watchful. In a court of this kind everybody has to learn to take care of themselves, especially the likes of him. And besides,” he added, “the boy has proved to be useful-“
“That, I never doubted.” The words had escaped him almost by chance, involuntarily harsh, but it was too late to make amends. He realized he didn’t care at all.
“Irony doesn’t fit you, Hephaistion.”
Hephaistion burst out laughing. “No irony, it was just a clumsy attempt to get over the matter. You’ll see - the boy sooner or later will realize I have no intention to hurt a hair of his head. I’m busy enough trying to supply this monstrosity of an army of yours; I’d rather not concern myself about your pets, Alèxandre, if you’d oblige.”
Alèxandros smiled askance, a flash of bare white teeth, and slowly shifted a foot against his leg, raising his chiton up his thigh in the process. “So very noble from your part, son of Amyntor. I know you wonder why I decided to keep him with me - “
“Ah, that. Let’s just say I dismissed it as one of your many oddities, “ answered Hephaistion, eyes half closed as he eased himself under Alèxandros’ light touch. “The boy is beautiful, Alèxandre - I’d be blind not to notice. Striking, like those of his kind. Beauty seems to be a common trait around here.”
Alèxandros pulled his foot back with a jerk, smashing his cup on the low table before the couch.
“I’m pleased to know of your appreciation for the local beauties,” his voice was as sharp as a blade now, “Philotas was telling me just yesterday that you definitely found the girls of Dareios’ harem to your liking in Susa. Good. Oriental allure evidently seems to appeal to you.”
He stood up, and paced to the large balcony outside. The hum coming from below was now reduced to a soft whispering. Only the limpid chant of the boy could still be heard - it rippled and subsided like the sound of backwash filtering through the window.
“As far as I know it was Philotas who mostly benefited from the girls’ ministrations in Susa, if I remember correctly. You should know he has a certain taste for these things,” answered Hephaistion, feigning not to notice Alèxandros’ switch in tone. He leaned forward to look at him; Alèxandros had now turned his back, so he raised his voice a fraction. “Besides, I don’t have time left for certain pastimes. My king keeps me rather busy with the matters of the army, of late - as he should be well aware.”
“Forget it. I don’t want to discuss it.” Alèxandros turned round all of a sudden, leaning against the thick balustrade. His face was hidden by the shadows, but Hephaistion could still see his eyes flashing dangerously even from that distance. He couldn’t be mistaken. He repressed a smile and stood up, following him on to the terrace.
He could better hear the music of the flute from the outside, and the words accompanying it - reaching him in lazy, sensual coils. It was a familiar chant, reminding him of the shepherds’ calls on the high pastures in Makedonìa, and for a brief moment he thought he could feel again that crispy air, gravid with rain on the skin, and the western wind blowing and shrieking through the rocks and into the bare crevasses - carrying the smell of the first winter snow. So many times he had drifted asleep outdoor on that grass, waiting for morning and staring at the stars - ardent stars, like a fire smouldering restlessly beneath cold ashes.
How far are we from morning?
How far are we?
The stars shining through the darkness,
Falling in the air
Hephaistion raised his eyes and stars were indeed incandescent embers that night, tiny scarlet spots falling silently, and shattering against the sky. He thought had he reached a hand out, he would feel the piercing heat of fire in his clenched palm.
Alèxandros had remained silent, turned to one side. Hephaistion leaned over and laid a light kiss on his shoulder, startling him. His voice was hoarse and soft against his skin.
“However much we can both be attracted to the beauty and seductions of this world so new to us, there are certain things which are never going to change, Alèxandre.”
Alèxandros sighed imperceptibly; laying a hand over his but remaining still.
“A world you say - and so vast I couldn’t imagine it even in the most vivid of my dreams. Yet, here we are now, Hephaistion, leagues and leagues far off home - eastern spices and treasures laid at our feet - and I’m still thirsty, not knowing if I’ll ever have this cursed thirst spent. But certain things never change, you are right. They are never going to.” He turned around and stared into his friend‘s eyes, dark and polished against the golden shades shifting on his face. “Bessos is out there somewhere, and you know I’ll have no rest until I drive him out. And afterward - afterward Skythia, and Bakhtria, the mountains even Dyonisos wanted to cross, and maybe beyond - until there will be a path to follow. It’s not over yet, and you know it. There is still so much left to do Hephaistion, but I missed you. I miss you every day. Every day.” He leaned his face against Hephaistion’s chest running his hands slowly up his bare arms, made cold by the night air. He sighed again, louder this time. “There are moments when - even before this world I so longed for, and fought for - I wish we could go back to when we were youths, can you remember Hephaistion? Just me and you, the warmth of a blanket and of a burning lamp. And all the rest shut off, outside our door. I know it’s difficult sometimes. I know it’s difficult for you - “
“Even so, Alèxandre, I have more than a man could ever ask for.”
It was just a whisper. Alèxandros stilled and looked at him. He suddenly sank his fingers into the firm flesh of his arms, leaving marks as red as wounds. The flute was still playing, a soft lamentation, barely audible among the rustle of leaves and the far chirping of crickets.
“Let’s go in.”
Hephaistion held his breath. Alèxandros’ eyes were clouded - inscrutable like black oil. He felt something shifting inside him, a wild flow of sensations, a fierce longing whose name it wasn’t wise to remember. Much time had passed since they had lain together - war had kept them apart, his duty as an officer, and Alèxandros’ as king above all. Soldiering and war, and duty, yes - but he knew what most soldiers murmured behind his back, he knew it was considered improper for a man to maintain relationships belonging to his youth. Nobody expected a king to share his bed with another grown man, and Hephaistion would rather die than shame Alèxandros. The Persian boy with his dark eyes was more fitting for that role, than him. He was conscious it had changed nothing between them, but there were times he just desperately missed the raw warmth of Alèxandros’ body, the intimate familiar touch of his skin. It was true - not even he had lived in the most absolute restraint, but nothing could be compared to this; that scent belonging to him only and the ardent heat of sun scorched skin.
Alèxandros was still staring at him. “Let’s get back in, Hephaistion.”
Hephaistion let himself be swallowed by the feeling his thick muffled voice aroused in him, throwing all caution to the wind. They kissed slowly on the damp cold stones of the balcony, almost shyly - as if it were for the first time. But it didn’t last.
Alèxandros led him into the bedroom, and they lay on the huge bed, cushions scattered all over the floor, the silky blankets piled in a bundle and forgotten in a corner.
They threw off their clothes impatiently, eager to find the touch of their skin, moving coarsely against each other, without kindness of any sort. The aulos wasn’t quivering anymore, the only sounds left were their stifled moans and the hiss of the wind, making the silks rustle and drowning the room in fragrances of cedar and sea salt. Even Alèxandros’ skin tasted like salt, thought Hephaistion as he ran his tongue all over his chest, along his abdomen - and Alèxandros was moving beneath him, caressing the tense muscles of his shoulders and back. There, finally: that strange mixture of salt and sweat on the tongue - and something else altogether, which was so undoubtedly Alèxandros - and which he knew better than anybody else. How he had missed it.
He clenched his hardened member in his fist with Alèxandros’, running his hand fast and raw on both. Alèxandros cried and swore at the same time and joined his hand to Hephaistion’s, following and quickening the rhythm of his strokes.
”Alekos - “ he cried out, and his groans merged with Alèxandros’ voice inciting him, and to the snap of their bodies slapping against each other, in unison. It didn’t last long. Afterward they fell next to each other, in silence, as their mixed seed dried up upon their bellies and the hot wind wiped out the sweat from their skin.
Alèxandros propped himself up on an elbow and grabbed a goblet from the bed shelf, sipping what was left of the wine in it, then he handed it to Hephaistion - who drank in return, like they had done countless times in their adolescence, when they used to share everything - even the same cup or plate.
Orangy and scarlet patterns were streaking the horizon, and the first morning fog was already floating on water, making the profiles dull and iridescent. A night bird cried a last lonely call then fell silent, and Hephaistion was surprised to recall the last words of the song he had heard that night, words now etched as a mark in him - holding the same bitter and salty taste of promise.
Once, as the night was leaving
Into us, our dreams were weaving
Once, all dreams were worth keeping
I was with you
Alèxandros was staring at him in silence, and Hephaistion smiled softly, brushing his face - then he stood up with a nimble movement and started to put on his tunic.
“What are you doing?”
“I’ll be gone by daybreak.”
Alèxandros sat up and took his hand, pulling him back to the bed.
“No. Stay here.”
Hephaistion watched him confused, “would it be wise? There’s already enough talk among the men. We are no longer two young boys at Aristotèles’ school...”
“Nor are we two adolescents at the mercy of someone to decide for us, “ answered Alèxandros, drawing him back to him, “no one can tell us what to do now. All this power must have some advantages, don’t you think?”
Hephaistion smiled, as Alèxandros looked at him with a mischievous flash in his grey eyes.
“That’s definitely a good point. Had you told me that before, I’d have forced you to cross the bloody Hellespont long ago!” They fell back on the bed laughing, then remained motionless - with their eyes closed - listening to the swish of waves and to the faint noises of birds hailing dawn. Hephaistion slid an arm over Alèxandros’ chest and leaned his face against the soft hollow between his neck and shoulder, brushing his lips against the old scar Alèxandros had got in Gaza, more than two years ago. After a few moments he could feel the regular rhythm of his breathing in sleep and the light rising and falling of his chest pressed against his open palm. His heart was beating softly underneath. The sky was now striped with indigo and pale ochres, the early rays of the sun stretched out on the water beyond the horizon, tearing the dark blue surface with dazzling silvery gashes. Hephaistion squinted, blinded by the glow. The bedchamber was dripping with burned incenses and the fat of candles but the breeze carried inside a light scent of dew soaked grass.
Hephaistion relaxed against Alèxandros’ shoulder, inhaled deeply and closed his eyes. Before sliding into sleep he thought he was hearing again the flickering prolonged note of an aulos, and a voice from afar, humming the last rhymes of a song he could no longer remember. He tried to summon the words to his memory but he couldn’t.
Hephaistion thought that now, it did not matter anymore.
Once, when our hearts were singing
I was with you
---------------------------------------
Once, as my heart remembers
All the stars were fallen embers
Once, when night seemed forever
I was with you
Once, in the care of morning
In the air was all belonging
Once, when that day was dawning
I was with you
How far are we from morning?
How far are we?
The stars shining through the darkness…
Falling in the air…
Once, as the night was leaving
Into us, our dreams were weaving
Once, all dreams were worth keeping
I was with you
Once, when our hearts were singing
I was with you
Enya - “fallen embers”
Title: Fallen embers
Author: Flora
Rating: R
Summary: Alexander and Hephaistion have to face the changes occured in their relationship
Notes: As always, thanks to susa_938 for being the best editor one may ever ask for.
Fallen embers
Zadrakarta had turned out to be an endless source of delight to Hephaistion. Spring was soft to the city after the hardships of the winter season, the light breezes blowing from the sea filtered through the large windows of the palace, making the night crispy and damp - touched with saltiness. Hephaistion hadn’t realized just how much he had missed that smell, until they had left the white rugged peaks of Media behind and the azure expanse of the Hyrkanian Sea had shimmered and sparkled before him in the dazzling sun.
The fort where they had settled was old and faced the shoreline. He liked being here. The luscious perfumes of sour citrus fruits and lemon trees reminded him of the endless afternoons of his youth, spent swimming and fishing in the deep dark waters of Phalereus, outside Athens’ walls. He had grown up by the sea, and these fragrances held the very taste of a homecoming.
His footsteps echoed heavily in the dark corridor, the din and racket from the banquet, lively still in the great hall, seemed to slide through the cold stones and spill out in the nightly air. Alèxandros had proclaimed a period of games and celebrations as soon as they’d set foot in Zadrakarta, and his soldiers had readily devoted themselves to all sorts of revelry. Men needed their rest, thought Hephaistion - and so did he.
He stopped before the thick wooden door giving access to Alèxandros’ private quarters, and the two soldiers on guard duty stepped aside without uttering a word. They were used to his presence, and had received orders to give him way at every hour of night and day. His leather boots, worn out by soldiering, sank deeply in the soft rugs as he crossed the room and pushed aside the heavy curtains which separated the living quarters from the inner chamber.
The king was sprawled on the huge bed, surrounded by silky cushions, sipping the wine a young dark-haired slave was pouring into a cup. Hephaistion lingered on the threshold, clearing his throat, and the youth respectfully withdrew.
Alèxandros turned to him, a swift sudden glimmer in his eyes.
“There you are. You don’t usually linger so long at symposia. Where have you been?”
“Perdikkas was in his cups tonight, he practically begged me to stay for a couple of toasts more. You missed Lysios’s whining. You should have heard him, singing one of his glorious paeans.”
Alèxandros grimaced, standing up. “I don’t think I’ll regret it. When he’s drunk, your brother howls like a woman in labour.” He laid his cup on the shelf near the bed and gestured to the boy who had remained still and silent in a corner. “You may retire now, Bagoas - thank you. I’ll see you in the morning.”
The youth graciously inclined his head. “May you have a pleasant night, my lord, “ he murmured then headed for the curtains. Hephaistion moved aside to let him pass, and Bagoas bowed imperceptibly to him as well - eyes pointed at the ground - before disappearing into the darkness of the antechamber.
The curtains closed with a silky rustle behind him. Hephaistion sighed and stepped forward, letting himself fall heavily on one of the couches. He grasped a goblet filled with wine, sniffed it briefly, then let it fall with a thump, spilling drops of pinkish liquid all over the table.
“Enough with wine, tonight. Especially of this watered, insipid horse’s piss.”
Alèxandros raised an eyebrow and smiled as he approached him. “Would you tell me what you did to that poor boy? You never fail to scare him half to death every time you show up.”
“Do I scare him? That’s nothing new - it seems most find me intimidating these days. However no, I didn’t do anything to him, we barely spoke. “
“You are too strict,” answered Alèxandros, and he was no longer talking about the boy, “You cow the youngest troopers, and I’ve been told your strictness is already a legend among my pages.”
“I’m effective,” Hephaistion snapped back, “the way you wanted me to be, Alèxandre. Such a big deal is constantly being made concerning what I am, where I am - and who put me here. I can do without accusations of ineptitude.“
Alèxandros raised his hands in a gesture of surrender and sat next to him, spreading his arms, and sprawling all over the cushions. “I get it Hephaistion. Not in a good mood, tonight. What about letting this argument drop?”
“Good idea, “ he cut short, suppressing a sigh, “and thinking about it, I wouldn’t mind another cup of that disgusting wine of yours,” and he reached out to take a goblet Alèxandros was handing him.
The chamber was barely lit by oil lamps and candles, the damasqued curtains at the windows were softly stirred by the night wind blowing from the sea, swelling them as if they were breathing. A bitter smell of burning oils and frankincense stagnated in the air, mingled with saltiness and the scents of gum arabic left to burn in the tripods. That wild mixture of odours made Hephaistion dizzy; he often wondered how Alèxandros could tolerate his bedroom stinking like a brothel. There were things which he still had to get accustomed to, things Alèxandros seemed perfectly comfortable with - and certainly not only mere oriental spices and perfumes. The king seemed to have taken a liking for more than one of this land’s peculiarities.
He grimaced. From the balcony facing the large lush garden he could hear the blurred buzzing of a few men and women who had moved outdoor to continue their private feast - and the impalpable sound of an aulos. A youth was murmuring a soft song, accompanied by the notes of his flute - and his voice was rising and bending in feeble, incorporeal volutes, sneaking through the curtains, and mingling with the thick smoke of incense and sandalwood in the room. Hephaistion closed his eyes, trying to discern the words dragged in by the wind.
Once, as my heart remembers
All the stars were fallen embers
Once, when night seemed forever
I was with you
Alèxandros slipped off his sandals and stretched his legs over him as he slowly sipped his wine. Hephaistion noticed he was wearing a short chiton of Tyrean purple and smiled, pleased. The king seemed to appreciate the long embellished Persian dress and had come to wear it more and more often of late. Yet, tonight he seemed perfectly comfortable with the clothes Hephaistion had seen him wearing for most of his life and this far from disappointed him. He laid a hand on Alèxandros’ thigh, and began to rub it slowly.
“I had no intention to scare him - the boy, I mean. But I can’t help it. He’s nervous and skittish as a cat, constantly on the alert, and he’s probably got it into his mind that I want to see him impaled on top of a pike, or something similar.”
Alèxandros, who had closed his eyes, reopened them half way - an amused glint in his grey gaze. “Don’t forget where he comes from. He was Dareios’ pleasure boy; he was forced to grow diffident and watchful. In a court of this kind everybody has to learn to take care of themselves, especially the likes of him. And besides,” he added, “the boy has proved to be useful-“
“That, I never doubted.” The words had escaped him almost by chance, involuntarily harsh, but it was too late to make amends. He realized he didn’t care at all.
“Irony doesn’t fit you, Hephaistion.”
Hephaistion burst out laughing. “No irony, it was just a clumsy attempt to get over the matter. You’ll see - the boy sooner or later will realize I have no intention to hurt a hair of his head. I’m busy enough trying to supply this monstrosity of an army of yours; I’d rather not concern myself about your pets, Alèxandre, if you’d oblige.”
Alèxandros smiled askance, a flash of bare white teeth, and slowly shifted a foot against his leg, raising his chiton up his thigh in the process. “So very noble from your part, son of Amyntor. I know you wonder why I decided to keep him with me - “
“Ah, that. Let’s just say I dismissed it as one of your many oddities, “ answered Hephaistion, eyes half closed as he eased himself under Alèxandros’ light touch. “The boy is beautiful, Alèxandre - I’d be blind not to notice. Striking, like those of his kind. Beauty seems to be a common trait around here.”
Alèxandros pulled his foot back with a jerk, smashing his cup on the low table before the couch.
“I’m pleased to know of your appreciation for the local beauties,” his voice was as sharp as a blade now, “Philotas was telling me just yesterday that you definitely found the girls of Dareios’ harem to your liking in Susa. Good. Oriental allure evidently seems to appeal to you.”
He stood up, and paced to the large balcony outside. The hum coming from below was now reduced to a soft whispering. Only the limpid chant of the boy could still be heard - it rippled and subsided like the sound of backwash filtering through the window.
“As far as I know it was Philotas who mostly benefited from the girls’ ministrations in Susa, if I remember correctly. You should know he has a certain taste for these things,” answered Hephaistion, feigning not to notice Alèxandros’ switch in tone. He leaned forward to look at him; Alèxandros had now turned his back, so he raised his voice a fraction. “Besides, I don’t have time left for certain pastimes. My king keeps me rather busy with the matters of the army, of late - as he should be well aware.”
“Forget it. I don’t want to discuss it.” Alèxandros turned round all of a sudden, leaning against the thick balustrade. His face was hidden by the shadows, but Hephaistion could still see his eyes flashing dangerously even from that distance. He couldn’t be mistaken. He repressed a smile and stood up, following him on to the terrace.
He could better hear the music of the flute from the outside, and the words accompanying it - reaching him in lazy, sensual coils. It was a familiar chant, reminding him of the shepherds’ calls on the high pastures in Makedonìa, and for a brief moment he thought he could feel again that crispy air, gravid with rain on the skin, and the western wind blowing and shrieking through the rocks and into the bare crevasses - carrying the smell of the first winter snow. So many times he had drifted asleep outdoor on that grass, waiting for morning and staring at the stars - ardent stars, like a fire smouldering restlessly beneath cold ashes.
How far are we from morning?
How far are we?
The stars shining through the darkness,
Falling in the air
Hephaistion raised his eyes and stars were indeed incandescent embers that night, tiny scarlet spots falling silently, and shattering against the sky. He thought had he reached a hand out, he would feel the piercing heat of fire in his clenched palm.
Alèxandros had remained silent, turned to one side. Hephaistion leaned over and laid a light kiss on his shoulder, startling him. His voice was hoarse and soft against his skin.
“However much we can both be attracted to the beauty and seductions of this world so new to us, there are certain things which are never going to change, Alèxandre.”
Alèxandros sighed imperceptibly; laying a hand over his but remaining still.
“A world you say - and so vast I couldn’t imagine it even in the most vivid of my dreams. Yet, here we are now, Hephaistion, leagues and leagues far off home - eastern spices and treasures laid at our feet - and I’m still thirsty, not knowing if I’ll ever have this cursed thirst spent. But certain things never change, you are right. They are never going to.” He turned around and stared into his friend‘s eyes, dark and polished against the golden shades shifting on his face. “Bessos is out there somewhere, and you know I’ll have no rest until I drive him out. And afterward - afterward Skythia, and Bakhtria, the mountains even Dyonisos wanted to cross, and maybe beyond - until there will be a path to follow. It’s not over yet, and you know it. There is still so much left to do Hephaistion, but I missed you. I miss you every day. Every day.” He leaned his face against Hephaistion’s chest running his hands slowly up his bare arms, made cold by the night air. He sighed again, louder this time. “There are moments when - even before this world I so longed for, and fought for - I wish we could go back to when we were youths, can you remember Hephaistion? Just me and you, the warmth of a blanket and of a burning lamp. And all the rest shut off, outside our door. I know it’s difficult sometimes. I know it’s difficult for you - “
“Even so, Alèxandre, I have more than a man could ever ask for.”
It was just a whisper. Alèxandros stilled and looked at him. He suddenly sank his fingers into the firm flesh of his arms, leaving marks as red as wounds. The flute was still playing, a soft lamentation, barely audible among the rustle of leaves and the far chirping of crickets.
“Let’s go in.”
Hephaistion held his breath. Alèxandros’ eyes were clouded - inscrutable like black oil. He felt something shifting inside him, a wild flow of sensations, a fierce longing whose name it wasn’t wise to remember. Much time had passed since they had lain together - war had kept them apart, his duty as an officer, and Alèxandros’ as king above all. Soldiering and war, and duty, yes - but he knew what most soldiers murmured behind his back, he knew it was considered improper for a man to maintain relationships belonging to his youth. Nobody expected a king to share his bed with another grown man, and Hephaistion would rather die than shame Alèxandros. The Persian boy with his dark eyes was more fitting for that role, than him. He was conscious it had changed nothing between them, but there were times he just desperately missed the raw warmth of Alèxandros’ body, the intimate familiar touch of his skin. It was true - not even he had lived in the most absolute restraint, but nothing could be compared to this; that scent belonging to him only and the ardent heat of sun scorched skin.
Alèxandros was still staring at him. “Let’s get back in, Hephaistion.”
Hephaistion let himself be swallowed by the feeling his thick muffled voice aroused in him, throwing all caution to the wind. They kissed slowly on the damp cold stones of the balcony, almost shyly - as if it were for the first time. But it didn’t last.
Alèxandros led him into the bedroom, and they lay on the huge bed, cushions scattered all over the floor, the silky blankets piled in a bundle and forgotten in a corner.
They threw off their clothes impatiently, eager to find the touch of their skin, moving coarsely against each other, without kindness of any sort. The aulos wasn’t quivering anymore, the only sounds left were their stifled moans and the hiss of the wind, making the silks rustle and drowning the room in fragrances of cedar and sea salt. Even Alèxandros’ skin tasted like salt, thought Hephaistion as he ran his tongue all over his chest, along his abdomen - and Alèxandros was moving beneath him, caressing the tense muscles of his shoulders and back. There, finally: that strange mixture of salt and sweat on the tongue - and something else altogether, which was so undoubtedly Alèxandros - and which he knew better than anybody else. How he had missed it.
He clenched his hardened member in his fist with Alèxandros’, running his hand fast and raw on both. Alèxandros cried and swore at the same time and joined his hand to Hephaistion’s, following and quickening the rhythm of his strokes.
”Alekos - “ he cried out, and his groans merged with Alèxandros’ voice inciting him, and to the snap of their bodies slapping against each other, in unison. It didn’t last long. Afterward they fell next to each other, in silence, as their mixed seed dried up upon their bellies and the hot wind wiped out the sweat from their skin.
Alèxandros propped himself up on an elbow and grabbed a goblet from the bed shelf, sipping what was left of the wine in it, then he handed it to Hephaistion - who drank in return, like they had done countless times in their adolescence, when they used to share everything - even the same cup or plate.
Orangy and scarlet patterns were streaking the horizon, and the first morning fog was already floating on water, making the profiles dull and iridescent. A night bird cried a last lonely call then fell silent, and Hephaistion was surprised to recall the last words of the song he had heard that night, words now etched as a mark in him - holding the same bitter and salty taste of promise.
Once, as the night was leaving
Into us, our dreams were weaving
Once, all dreams were worth keeping
I was with you
Alèxandros was staring at him in silence, and Hephaistion smiled softly, brushing his face - then he stood up with a nimble movement and started to put on his tunic.
“What are you doing?”
“I’ll be gone by daybreak.”
Alèxandros sat up and took his hand, pulling him back to the bed.
“No. Stay here.”
Hephaistion watched him confused, “would it be wise? There’s already enough talk among the men. We are no longer two young boys at Aristotèles’ school...”
“Nor are we two adolescents at the mercy of someone to decide for us, “ answered Alèxandros, drawing him back to him, “no one can tell us what to do now. All this power must have some advantages, don’t you think?”
Hephaistion smiled, as Alèxandros looked at him with a mischievous flash in his grey eyes.
“That’s definitely a good point. Had you told me that before, I’d have forced you to cross the bloody Hellespont long ago!” They fell back on the bed laughing, then remained motionless - with their eyes closed - listening to the swish of waves and to the faint noises of birds hailing dawn. Hephaistion slid an arm over Alèxandros’ chest and leaned his face against the soft hollow between his neck and shoulder, brushing his lips against the old scar Alèxandros had got in Gaza, more than two years ago. After a few moments he could feel the regular rhythm of his breathing in sleep and the light rising and falling of his chest pressed against his open palm. His heart was beating softly underneath. The sky was now striped with indigo and pale ochres, the early rays of the sun stretched out on the water beyond the horizon, tearing the dark blue surface with dazzling silvery gashes. Hephaistion squinted, blinded by the glow. The bedchamber was dripping with burned incenses and the fat of candles but the breeze carried inside a light scent of dew soaked grass.
Hephaistion relaxed against Alèxandros’ shoulder, inhaled deeply and closed his eyes. Before sliding into sleep he thought he was hearing again the flickering prolonged note of an aulos, and a voice from afar, humming the last rhymes of a song he could no longer remember. He tried to summon the words to his memory but he couldn’t.
Hephaistion thought that now, it did not matter anymore.
Once, when our hearts were singing
I was with you
---------------------------------------
Once, as my heart remembers
All the stars were fallen embers
Once, when night seemed forever
I was with you
Once, in the care of morning
In the air was all belonging
Once, when that day was dawning
I was with you
How far are we from morning?
How far are we?
The stars shining through the darkness…
Falling in the air…
Once, as the night was leaving
Into us, our dreams were weaving
Once, all dreams were worth keeping
I was with you
Once, when our hearts were singing
I was with you
Enya - “fallen embers”