Fortuna | Alexander
For alexanderfics.
Title: Fortuna
Author: Whitesakura
Rating: G
Notes: Originally for Dec.8th's challenge. Not sure if it qualifies.
Summary:
Fortuna
It is a few days after the rains. Bucephalas paws at the ground which is moist and soft, but no longer the thick mulch that had swallowed most of Alexander’s spoils of war. Alexander glances down at his mount, runs a soft hand through his horse’s mane as Bucephalas twitches and ignores his touch. The black stallion continues to dig. The ebony hooves so carefully cleaned in the morning by the stable boys are now caked with dirt.
“What is it, old friend?” Alexander leans over and whispers into Bucephalas’ ear. Behind Alexander, a mass of thread-bare soldiers part as dim dots on the sunny horizon grow larger and take on the silhouettes of young men. The scouts race back with joyous energy. They’ve found a plateau under a mountain overhang - dry, stable soil in which to pitch their tents.
Hephaistion coughs besides him. Alexander gives his secretive steed a sigh. He turns to address Hephaistion when he notices the panting boy before him. The teenager’s back is curved in exhaustion and his long arms rest limply on his upper thighs but his eyes are feverishly bright.
“The plateau’s not far, my lord,” the freckled-face scout says breathlessly, “just a little way toward the east, around the crop of trees. And beyond that, a city.”
Astride Bucephalas, Alexander can see over the stunted pines. The land they are moving through is mostly barren, motionless, but Alexander finds a far-off silvery gleam undulating like a hydra. A diffuse glow of sun over a river. Sharp light darting off the scales of fish. He nudges Bucephalas to move toward the copse and fresh food source, but the horse remains stubborn.
“He’s found something, Alexander,” Hephaistion reproaches and clambers off his own mount. Alexander watches as Bucephalas moves voluntarily aside when Hephaistion draws down to the area of interest. Hephaistion pushes the dirt away, revealing the dim curve belonging to a stone figure sunk partially in the mud. He runs fingers through the thin layer of earth that is coating the statue’s forehead and cries out.
A red dewdrop. A ruby the size of one’s fist. A perfect bribe to the locals for hot meals, warm clothes and much needed medical supplies.
As Hephaistion struggles to dislodge the gem, Bucephalas tosses his head as if to boast of his accomplishment. Alexander scratches a spot just off center between Bucephalas’ ears and murmurs affectionately, “Gloat when you can clean your own feet, beast.”
Title: Fortuna
Author: Whitesakura
Rating: G
Notes: Originally for Dec.8th's challenge. Not sure if it qualifies.
Summary:
Fortuna
It is a few days after the rains. Bucephalas paws at the ground which is moist and soft, but no longer the thick mulch that had swallowed most of Alexander’s spoils of war. Alexander glances down at his mount, runs a soft hand through his horse’s mane as Bucephalas twitches and ignores his touch. The black stallion continues to dig. The ebony hooves so carefully cleaned in the morning by the stable boys are now caked with dirt.
“What is it, old friend?” Alexander leans over and whispers into Bucephalas’ ear. Behind Alexander, a mass of thread-bare soldiers part as dim dots on the sunny horizon grow larger and take on the silhouettes of young men. The scouts race back with joyous energy. They’ve found a plateau under a mountain overhang - dry, stable soil in which to pitch their tents.
Hephaistion coughs besides him. Alexander gives his secretive steed a sigh. He turns to address Hephaistion when he notices the panting boy before him. The teenager’s back is curved in exhaustion and his long arms rest limply on his upper thighs but his eyes are feverishly bright.
“The plateau’s not far, my lord,” the freckled-face scout says breathlessly, “just a little way toward the east, around the crop of trees. And beyond that, a city.”
Astride Bucephalas, Alexander can see over the stunted pines. The land they are moving through is mostly barren, motionless, but Alexander finds a far-off silvery gleam undulating like a hydra. A diffuse glow of sun over a river. Sharp light darting off the scales of fish. He nudges Bucephalas to move toward the copse and fresh food source, but the horse remains stubborn.
“He’s found something, Alexander,” Hephaistion reproaches and clambers off his own mount. Alexander watches as Bucephalas moves voluntarily aside when Hephaistion draws down to the area of interest. Hephaistion pushes the dirt away, revealing the dim curve belonging to a stone figure sunk partially in the mud. He runs fingers through the thin layer of earth that is coating the statue’s forehead and cries out.
A red dewdrop. A ruby the size of one’s fist. A perfect bribe to the locals for hot meals, warm clothes and much needed medical supplies.
As Hephaistion struggles to dislodge the gem, Bucephalas tosses his head as if to boast of his accomplishment. Alexander scratches a spot just off center between Bucephalas’ ears and murmurs affectionately, “Gloat when you can clean your own feet, beast.”