Alexander fic: Worthy of Your Soul (2/WIP)
Title: Worthy of Your Soul (2/WIP)
Author: trust_n0_1
Rating: PG to NC17 for the series (this chapter PG)
Summary: Hephaistion is asked by Philip to spy on Alexander and finds himself between a rock and a hard place.
Copyright: © Trust No One March 2006
Beta by: My one and only best-est tinuvielas
Two
The first grey light was beginning to filter through the cracks in the shutters when Hephaistion finally fell into an exhausted sleep. He dreamed of fires consuming his family estate and of himself running aimlessly through the charred remains of their once fertile grasslands, screaming his mother’s and sisters’ names in his head while all along all he was able to utter were animal, disjointed cries, like the guttural sounds made by one whose tongue had been cut out.
For hours, he'd lain tossing on his barrack bed, listening to the others' snores and clucks, envying them their lack of worries. Ptolemy, Leonnatus, Cassander and Philotas had accompanied Alexander on his brief trip to Pella. The latter two, having high-ranking fathers in the court, had gone to spend time with their respective families, whereas the remaining three youths had been accommodated in the east wing of the military dwellings. At the insistence of his mother, Alexander was staying in his old apartments - but not by his own choice, which would have been sharing the barrack accommodations, he had hastened to add. Shortly after their arrival, Alexander had informed his companions that he would not be seeing them until the next morning when they were due to return to Mieza. What that meant, Hephaistion could only guess. Olympias claimed a lot, if not all the time Alexander had to spend spent at the palace and Hephaistion wondered when Alexander would see his father. His last waking thoughts were of the two of them together, talking, looking in Philip’s direction.
After the nightmare, Hephaistion woke in a sweat and lay quiet for a long time, wondering if he dared go and find Alexander, and spill out his woes to his friend. Yet the more he thought about it, the more he dismissed the thought as both impractical and unwise. It would not only be suspicious for a lad of fifteen, however well placed in the prince’s favour, to be caught prowling around the royal quarters before dawn - it would also be foolish. What would he tell Alexander when he found him? Your father wants me to spy on you, to report on your every move.
Hephaistion might have laughed out loud at that. Young as he was, he was not naïve enough to disregard the consequences that this bit of information would have on Alexander’s relationship with his father. He wondered if indeed this intimate secret was supposed to make him feel powerful and he shuddered at the thought of how another in his place might have used the knowledge. It was then that Hephaistion realized that nothing could make him change his mind, no matter how much he tossed and turned the facts around in his head. His first instinct to refuse Philip’s request flatly had been the right one. Bitterly, he reflected that, indeed, doing the right thing sometimes did not mean doing the right thing for one’s own good.
Forcing himself to think practically, Hephaistion weighed his possibilities: to refuse doing the king’s bidding would probably be akin to treason. If the King decided to let him live, it would be to show Hephaistion at every step what a fool he had been to defy him. His dream of joining the cavalry would be shattered, no matter how gifted he was. Gone would be any means of advancement in rank, and every ambition that Hephaistion had ever harboured about his military career together with it. In the end, Alexander would drift away from him, if not for any other reason because the growing gap in their rank would separate them. An existence where he would be unwanted and ultimately discarded was the only rational outcome for Hephaistion. And yet, accepting Philip’s proposal was one sure road to deceiving Alexander, to betraying the friend who had opened his heart and his mind to Hephaistion so that he could be read like an open scroll. Hephaistion could not imagine a more heinous treason.
He'd gotten a fair taste of those already, from his companions' teasing the night before.
‘What did the king want with you?’ Ptolemy had wanted to know the moment Hephaistion walked in.
Drained and numbed with the weight on his shoulders, Hephaistion had shrugged but Cassander’s sixth sense for trouble had picked up the distress signals in his comrade's posture straight away.
‘No doubt he wanted to know about him and Alexander,’ Cassander sneered. Hephaistion didn't have the strength to protest. He resented the way Cassander spoke about him, like he wasn’t even present, like Cassander could not bring himself to dignify Hephaistion or his company with a direct address.
‘So,’ Philotas said raising an eyebrow at Hephaistion, ‘did you get a tongue lashing from the king?’ He rarely said anything about the rumoured amorous liaison between Alexander and his best friend, but his disapproval had hardly ever been concealed.
‘He did, didn’t he?’ Cassander interjected, turning towards Hephaistion as if he acknowledged his presence for the first time. The lean, fox-like features lit up with dark joy at the thought of Hephaistion being reprimanded. ‘Or are you just miserable that you’re not going to spend the night in Alexander’s arms? I hear his mother’s arranged a couple of hetairae for him. She’s worried that he’s spending too much time with you and forgetting all about girls….’
‘Shut your trap, Cassander,’ Hephaistion growled but in the end turned away, sickened, knowing full well that his lack of physical retaliation would say much more than he wanted to let on. Usually, he would have wrestled Cassander to the ground and crunched his elbow into the other’s face, more for a show of blood than for actual damage. But now, he turned away, wanting more than anything to howl out his frustration until he had no voice left and then to crawl into a dark corner like a wounded animal.
Ptolemy pressed a goblet of wine into Hephaistion’s hand and patted him amicably on the shoulder. ‘C’mon, get ready; we’re getting out of here for the night. Philotas has invited us all to dine with his father and brothers.’
Ever the pacifier, Hephaistion thought bitterly, resenting even that honest gesture as he stalked to the furthest corner of the room. ‘I’m not going anywhere,’ he balked. The thought of spending more time in the company of those who disliked him beyond what was considered to be normal boyish teasing made him sick. He unlaced his boots and kicked them away.
‘Looks like it’s a lot worse than we thought,’ Cassander remarked innocently to the others, just loud enough to reach Hephaistion’s ears. Suddenly, Hephaistion had a glimpse of a future where the whispers and ugly rumours would reach his ears while the breaths of the gossipers were still brushing the back of his neck. He wondered briefly if years from now he would still think it was worth it, for Alexander’s sake.
‘So we’re not good enough for you, huh, Hephaistion?’ Philotas taunted. ‘You only set your sights on royalty. First Alexander - now Philip. What really did go on in there with the king?’
Hephaistion let out a breath, clenching and unclenching his fists. He spun around, his eyes aflame
‘That’s something only you would stoop to, Philotas,’ he retorted, crossing the room in two big strides and coming eye to eye with Parmenion’s son. Philotas was older, but Hephaistion was almost as tall and his enraged stance made him look even taller.
‘Enough!’ Ptolemy stepped between the two belligerent youths. Sickened, he pushed Hephaistion to one side and turned to Philotas. ‘Are we ready to go?’
‘You’re taking his side?’ Philotas exclaimed incredulously, looking down his nose at Ptolemy.
‘I’m not taking anyone’s side,’ Ptolemy snapped, throwing Philotas a venomous look. ‘Hades be damned, man, you’re acting like a mindless youth. Leave him be. You should know better.’
‘Yes, I know better,’ Philotas’ voice dripped disdain, and he gave Hephaistion a murderous look as he turned on his heels and walked out of the room.
Whether it was the look in Hephaistion’s eyes or Ptolemy’s rebuke, even Cassander held his tongue as the boys filed out in silence. Hephaistion slid to the floor, hugging his knees to his chest, pressing his fist into his mouth so that he wouldn’t scream out in near physical agony.
~~
When Philip’s page announced Hephaistion for his audience early the next morning, the boy had been there for the past hour, cooling his heels in the antechamber. His decision was made, for better or for worse and he realized from Philip’s scrutinizing expression that his resignation was obvious.
‘It looks like you gave some serious thought to what we discussed yesterday,’ Philip said and Hephaistion wondered at the approving tinge in the king’s voice. Was he really expecting him to accept, after all? Had Philip never had a friend stand up for him the way he was about to stand up for Alexander?
‘Sire, I will not spy on Alexander. Forgive me. It is not my intention to disobey your orders, but the prince has honoured me with his friendship and trust. To break that would be as unforgivable to me as the highest treason.’ Hephaistion delivered his decision in the clearest voice he was able to muster.
‘More unforgivable than denying your King’s request?’ Philip baited.
‘Yes.’
‘You believe that you would be betraying Alexander, rather than protecting him?’ Philip’s voice came smoothly and undisturbed. Hephaistion tried to read the king's face, but the sun reflecting off the polished table shone in his eyes, concealing the king's features.
‘I do.’ Hephaistion willed his voice to sustain the resolute tone from moments before, but suddenly that seemed much harder to do. Philip kept silent and a sense of dread overcame Hephaistion. At once, he became possessed with the wish to just have done with this moment. He felt like an insect studied too closely by a pair of inquisitive eyes moments before their owner lost interest and squashed it.
‘You understand the consequences, do you? Are you prepared to throw your future away because of some high-minded notion of mythical heroism and sacrifice?’
‘I understand the consequences, sire. My future would mean nothing without Alexander, and I am not prepared to trample on his trust while trying to achieve it.’ Hephaistion could not- would not - hide his grit when he replied.
The king nodded slowly, his expression cold and unfathomable.
A faint clang from he door ruptured Hephaistion’s concentration. Out of the corner of his eye, he registered movement behind him. Instinctively, he leapt aside, already prepared to feel many pairs of arms seizing him. Instead, he heard a clear laughter and spun around to collide with Alexander.
‘What’s the matter, did I catch you by surprise?’
Hephaistion opened his mouth to speak but he found that no sound escaped him, out of relief or surprise, he could not tell which. In the end, he shook his head and tried a smile, failed, and remained silent. Alexander steadied Hephaistion, smiling at the startled youth and then turned his attention to the king, who surveyed the scene with keen eyes.
‘Good morning, father,’ the prince said in a more measured tone. ‘I am sorry I interrupted your audience.’
‘Hephaistion was just leaving,’ Philip said smoothly, nodding in Hephaistion’s direction.
‘Yes,’ Hephaistion replied rather faintly and started to turn to leave the room, but Philip’s voice stopped him in his tracks.
‘Your father served me well, Hephaistion,’ Philip said almost jovially, yet with a glint in his eye that Hephaistion could never mistake for forgiveness, ‘and I want you to think about his memory when you return to Mieza. I trust that your time there will be spent fruitfully, as we discussed.’
The king did not wait for Hephaistion to react instead turned his attention to his son, who looked rather disconcerted by his father’s cryptic words. Hephaistion felt Alexander’s eyes on him and managed a curt smile, to show Alexander that nothing was amiss, but he felt something shift inside himself, as if Alexander had caught hold of his essence and had fathomed the reason of his distress. But now was not the time to question and Hephaistion knew it as well as Alexander. Later, there would be questions. But by then, Hephaistion would have thought up a reason.
Hating himself for thinking like a deceiver already, Hephaistion squared his shoulders and walked out. In few words, Philip had made his meaning perfectly clear: he expected compliance and he did not care what it would take for Hephaistion to accomplish it. He was already on borrowed time.
© Trust No One April 2006
x-posted
Author: trust_n0_1
Rating: PG to NC17 for the series (this chapter PG)
Summary: Hephaistion is asked by Philip to spy on Alexander and finds himself between a rock and a hard place.
Copyright: © Trust No One March 2006
Beta by: My one and only best-est tinuvielas
Two
The first grey light was beginning to filter through the cracks in the shutters when Hephaistion finally fell into an exhausted sleep. He dreamed of fires consuming his family estate and of himself running aimlessly through the charred remains of their once fertile grasslands, screaming his mother’s and sisters’ names in his head while all along all he was able to utter were animal, disjointed cries, like the guttural sounds made by one whose tongue had been cut out.
For hours, he'd lain tossing on his barrack bed, listening to the others' snores and clucks, envying them their lack of worries. Ptolemy, Leonnatus, Cassander and Philotas had accompanied Alexander on his brief trip to Pella. The latter two, having high-ranking fathers in the court, had gone to spend time with their respective families, whereas the remaining three youths had been accommodated in the east wing of the military dwellings. At the insistence of his mother, Alexander was staying in his old apartments - but not by his own choice, which would have been sharing the barrack accommodations, he had hastened to add. Shortly after their arrival, Alexander had informed his companions that he would not be seeing them until the next morning when they were due to return to Mieza. What that meant, Hephaistion could only guess. Olympias claimed a lot, if not all the time Alexander had to spend spent at the palace and Hephaistion wondered when Alexander would see his father. His last waking thoughts were of the two of them together, talking, looking in Philip’s direction.
After the nightmare, Hephaistion woke in a sweat and lay quiet for a long time, wondering if he dared go and find Alexander, and spill out his woes to his friend. Yet the more he thought about it, the more he dismissed the thought as both impractical and unwise. It would not only be suspicious for a lad of fifteen, however well placed in the prince’s favour, to be caught prowling around the royal quarters before dawn - it would also be foolish. What would he tell Alexander when he found him? Your father wants me to spy on you, to report on your every move.
Hephaistion might have laughed out loud at that. Young as he was, he was not naïve enough to disregard the consequences that this bit of information would have on Alexander’s relationship with his father. He wondered if indeed this intimate secret was supposed to make him feel powerful and he shuddered at the thought of how another in his place might have used the knowledge. It was then that Hephaistion realized that nothing could make him change his mind, no matter how much he tossed and turned the facts around in his head. His first instinct to refuse Philip’s request flatly had been the right one. Bitterly, he reflected that, indeed, doing the right thing sometimes did not mean doing the right thing for one’s own good.
Forcing himself to think practically, Hephaistion weighed his possibilities: to refuse doing the king’s bidding would probably be akin to treason. If the King decided to let him live, it would be to show Hephaistion at every step what a fool he had been to defy him. His dream of joining the cavalry would be shattered, no matter how gifted he was. Gone would be any means of advancement in rank, and every ambition that Hephaistion had ever harboured about his military career together with it. In the end, Alexander would drift away from him, if not for any other reason because the growing gap in their rank would separate them. An existence where he would be unwanted and ultimately discarded was the only rational outcome for Hephaistion. And yet, accepting Philip’s proposal was one sure road to deceiving Alexander, to betraying the friend who had opened his heart and his mind to Hephaistion so that he could be read like an open scroll. Hephaistion could not imagine a more heinous treason.
He'd gotten a fair taste of those already, from his companions' teasing the night before.
‘What did the king want with you?’ Ptolemy had wanted to know the moment Hephaistion walked in.
Drained and numbed with the weight on his shoulders, Hephaistion had shrugged but Cassander’s sixth sense for trouble had picked up the distress signals in his comrade's posture straight away.
‘No doubt he wanted to know about him and Alexander,’ Cassander sneered. Hephaistion didn't have the strength to protest. He resented the way Cassander spoke about him, like he wasn’t even present, like Cassander could not bring himself to dignify Hephaistion or his company with a direct address.
‘So,’ Philotas said raising an eyebrow at Hephaistion, ‘did you get a tongue lashing from the king?’ He rarely said anything about the rumoured amorous liaison between Alexander and his best friend, but his disapproval had hardly ever been concealed.
‘He did, didn’t he?’ Cassander interjected, turning towards Hephaistion as if he acknowledged his presence for the first time. The lean, fox-like features lit up with dark joy at the thought of Hephaistion being reprimanded. ‘Or are you just miserable that you’re not going to spend the night in Alexander’s arms? I hear his mother’s arranged a couple of hetairae for him. She’s worried that he’s spending too much time with you and forgetting all about girls….’
‘Shut your trap, Cassander,’ Hephaistion growled but in the end turned away, sickened, knowing full well that his lack of physical retaliation would say much more than he wanted to let on. Usually, he would have wrestled Cassander to the ground and crunched his elbow into the other’s face, more for a show of blood than for actual damage. But now, he turned away, wanting more than anything to howl out his frustration until he had no voice left and then to crawl into a dark corner like a wounded animal.
Ptolemy pressed a goblet of wine into Hephaistion’s hand and patted him amicably on the shoulder. ‘C’mon, get ready; we’re getting out of here for the night. Philotas has invited us all to dine with his father and brothers.’
Ever the pacifier, Hephaistion thought bitterly, resenting even that honest gesture as he stalked to the furthest corner of the room. ‘I’m not going anywhere,’ he balked. The thought of spending more time in the company of those who disliked him beyond what was considered to be normal boyish teasing made him sick. He unlaced his boots and kicked them away.
‘Looks like it’s a lot worse than we thought,’ Cassander remarked innocently to the others, just loud enough to reach Hephaistion’s ears. Suddenly, Hephaistion had a glimpse of a future where the whispers and ugly rumours would reach his ears while the breaths of the gossipers were still brushing the back of his neck. He wondered briefly if years from now he would still think it was worth it, for Alexander’s sake.
‘So we’re not good enough for you, huh, Hephaistion?’ Philotas taunted. ‘You only set your sights on royalty. First Alexander - now Philip. What really did go on in there with the king?’
Hephaistion let out a breath, clenching and unclenching his fists. He spun around, his eyes aflame
‘That’s something only you would stoop to, Philotas,’ he retorted, crossing the room in two big strides and coming eye to eye with Parmenion’s son. Philotas was older, but Hephaistion was almost as tall and his enraged stance made him look even taller.
‘Enough!’ Ptolemy stepped between the two belligerent youths. Sickened, he pushed Hephaistion to one side and turned to Philotas. ‘Are we ready to go?’
‘You’re taking his side?’ Philotas exclaimed incredulously, looking down his nose at Ptolemy.
‘I’m not taking anyone’s side,’ Ptolemy snapped, throwing Philotas a venomous look. ‘Hades be damned, man, you’re acting like a mindless youth. Leave him be. You should know better.’
‘Yes, I know better,’ Philotas’ voice dripped disdain, and he gave Hephaistion a murderous look as he turned on his heels and walked out of the room.
Whether it was the look in Hephaistion’s eyes or Ptolemy’s rebuke, even Cassander held his tongue as the boys filed out in silence. Hephaistion slid to the floor, hugging his knees to his chest, pressing his fist into his mouth so that he wouldn’t scream out in near physical agony.
~~
When Philip’s page announced Hephaistion for his audience early the next morning, the boy had been there for the past hour, cooling his heels in the antechamber. His decision was made, for better or for worse and he realized from Philip’s scrutinizing expression that his resignation was obvious.
‘It looks like you gave some serious thought to what we discussed yesterday,’ Philip said and Hephaistion wondered at the approving tinge in the king’s voice. Was he really expecting him to accept, after all? Had Philip never had a friend stand up for him the way he was about to stand up for Alexander?
‘Sire, I will not spy on Alexander. Forgive me. It is not my intention to disobey your orders, but the prince has honoured me with his friendship and trust. To break that would be as unforgivable to me as the highest treason.’ Hephaistion delivered his decision in the clearest voice he was able to muster.
‘More unforgivable than denying your King’s request?’ Philip baited.
‘Yes.’
‘You believe that you would be betraying Alexander, rather than protecting him?’ Philip’s voice came smoothly and undisturbed. Hephaistion tried to read the king's face, but the sun reflecting off the polished table shone in his eyes, concealing the king's features.
‘I do.’ Hephaistion willed his voice to sustain the resolute tone from moments before, but suddenly that seemed much harder to do. Philip kept silent and a sense of dread overcame Hephaistion. At once, he became possessed with the wish to just have done with this moment. He felt like an insect studied too closely by a pair of inquisitive eyes moments before their owner lost interest and squashed it.
‘You understand the consequences, do you? Are you prepared to throw your future away because of some high-minded notion of mythical heroism and sacrifice?’
‘I understand the consequences, sire. My future would mean nothing without Alexander, and I am not prepared to trample on his trust while trying to achieve it.’ Hephaistion could not- would not - hide his grit when he replied.
The king nodded slowly, his expression cold and unfathomable.
A faint clang from he door ruptured Hephaistion’s concentration. Out of the corner of his eye, he registered movement behind him. Instinctively, he leapt aside, already prepared to feel many pairs of arms seizing him. Instead, he heard a clear laughter and spun around to collide with Alexander.
‘What’s the matter, did I catch you by surprise?’
Hephaistion opened his mouth to speak but he found that no sound escaped him, out of relief or surprise, he could not tell which. In the end, he shook his head and tried a smile, failed, and remained silent. Alexander steadied Hephaistion, smiling at the startled youth and then turned his attention to the king, who surveyed the scene with keen eyes.
‘Good morning, father,’ the prince said in a more measured tone. ‘I am sorry I interrupted your audience.’
‘Hephaistion was just leaving,’ Philip said smoothly, nodding in Hephaistion’s direction.
‘Yes,’ Hephaistion replied rather faintly and started to turn to leave the room, but Philip’s voice stopped him in his tracks.
‘Your father served me well, Hephaistion,’ Philip said almost jovially, yet with a glint in his eye that Hephaistion could never mistake for forgiveness, ‘and I want you to think about his memory when you return to Mieza. I trust that your time there will be spent fruitfully, as we discussed.’
The king did not wait for Hephaistion to react instead turned his attention to his son, who looked rather disconcerted by his father’s cryptic words. Hephaistion felt Alexander’s eyes on him and managed a curt smile, to show Alexander that nothing was amiss, but he felt something shift inside himself, as if Alexander had caught hold of his essence and had fathomed the reason of his distress. But now was not the time to question and Hephaistion knew it as well as Alexander. Later, there would be questions. But by then, Hephaistion would have thought up a reason.
Hating himself for thinking like a deceiver already, Hephaistion squared his shoulders and walked out. In few words, Philip had made his meaning perfectly clear: he expected compliance and he did not care what it would take for Hephaistion to accomplish it. He was already on borrowed time.
© Trust No One April 2006
x-posted