Current mood:

lethargic

Fic

Title: No longer boys 4/4

Author: Parisad

Rating: FRM

Warnings: slash

Summary: stay with me. We are alone, now. Hephaestion/Alexander POV

Notes: here's the last part of my fic...not too bad I hope...

Feedbacks: yes, tell me what you think about it...

 

4/4

 

All days are nights to see till I see thee,

And nights bright days when dreams do show thee me.

                                                                     (W. Shakespeare, son. 43)

 

 

 

Hephaestion rushed out, going towards Alexander's rooms; Ptolemy came beside him asking:

- What's wrong with Alexander, today? This evening he was devastated, he barely talked, he started drinking...

Hephaestion smiled bitterly:

- He seeks refuge in wine when he doesn't want to listen to himself.

Ptolemy stared at him and rested an hand upon his shoulder:

- Sometimes it's so difficult to accept our weaknesses...even for a King.

He left him with an encouraging smile.

Hephaestion entered the royal rooms: the slaves had called the doctor but the King had sent him away. Hephaestion addressed a boy leaving the King's bedroom holding a water's jug:

-How's the King?

The boy looked at him but soon lowered his gaze:

- He doesn't want company, my lord. He's sent all of us away.

- He was unconscious when you brought him here. So, did he recover?

- Yes, my lord, but he doesn't want...he didn't drink the water...

Hephaestion sighted and turned to the people around him:

- Get out, all of you.

Soldiers and slaves obeyed, but the boy didn't move, holding the jug, looking hesitant. Hephaestion said quite roughly:

- Leave me.

The boy whispered:

- Maybe the King needs me...

Hephaestion, who was already about to move away, turned to him a little upset:

- I'm not used to repeat my orders. Get out.

The boy's fingers held tight the jug, but soon he bowed slightly and left the room. Hephaestion noticed the delicacy of his hands and his graceful carriage: he had already seen that boy. He had danced in the hall: he was an eunuch of the royal harem.

 

He's so beautiful, Alexander. A boy with black eyes and shining skin.

A boy without marks.

 

A faint fire on the brazier. A room in semi-darkness and a young man lying on the bed. Silence broken by few sobs.

Hephaestion entered the room silently, walking slowly. He lowered his eyes and his hand brushed Alexander's hair; the King startled and swung round:

- I need nothing. Get out. Leave me.

An endless silence. Hephaestion didn't move. The King closed his eyes:

-I said...get out.

 

Leave me, Hephaestion. Don't tell me that you want to stay with me. Don't you see what I've become? Don't you fear the evil inside me? I could kill you, if I had a sword in my hands. And if I had a knife, I would destroy myself.

Leave me. Come back to them. Don't tell me that nothing has changed.

 

Hephaestion said weakly:

- Try to sleep, Alexander.

Alexander suddenly got up, pulling him away, shouting at him:

- What do you want from me? Get out! What are you waiting for?

Those words struck Hephaestion. He knew that Alexander could be very cruel when he was blind with anger, or clouded with wine. But that desperation, that impotent fury, that violence frightened him: never he had seen a man hating himself so badly.

 

Maybe is too late, now. Maybe we have lost each other.

 

He stood up silently, stifling the tears trembling behind his eyes, and he was about to leave when an hand grabbed his right arm, pulling him back. Alexander cried out:

- Do you want to leave me, do you?

Hephaestion was not prepared for that question: he looked into Alexander's eyes, trying to find the right words:

- I'm not leaving you, I...

All of sudden Alexander threw him down on the bed, pinning his hands with great strength. Hephaestion held his breath, feeling himself at Alexander's mercy. The King yelled, staring at him:

- Do you know I could kill you now?

He went on shouting, but his voice started trembling, his eyes telling another history:

- Don't you fear me?

Freeing Hephaestion's hands, he brushed his lover's cheek:

- Don't you fear me...Hephaestion?

 

I fear you. I fear what you have become. I fear this fury in your eyes. I fear the hate you feel for yourself. I fear our love so strong, so desperate.

But I don't fear for me, my King. I fear for Alexander.

 

Alexander rested his head on Hephaestion's breast, closing his eyes dimmed with tears, holding his lover's body: 

- Do you know how much I need you?

Hephaestion softly touched the fair hair and his voice was a soft whisper:

- Where's my Akylles? Where's the boy holding the world?

- I don't know...I've lost him in a land far away.

Hephaestion's voice strengthened:

- That's not true, Alexander. I see him still. I see him...again. He's in my arms. And I'm not leaving him.

Alexander suddenly thought to the warm nights of Pella, when they fell asleep together, with the Iliad under the furs. In the dim light that filtered through the curtains lighting an Indian palace, he saw again Aristotle's school, his father's room, an horse frightened by his shadow and a fair boy riding it.

- Forgive me. I didn't want to...

- I know.

- You were talking to me, but there was only a drunk man. Like before...when I killed Cleitus...I was mad. I was drunk. I always drink too much.

- We all drink. We all get drunk, sometimes.

- But I'm the King.

- Yes.

 

I'm the King. Of Macedonia, of Egypt, of Asia. But now, who is this young man in your arms? All has changed around me. I don't recognize my voice. If I look at myself in the shivering reflection of a wine's cup my eyes meet a stranger. The faces around me have changed. Or maybe I don't see them any longer. But you. I look at you and soon I see you. I hear your voice and I have been always listening to it. I hold you and your breath takes away my pain like a gust of wind.

Don't leave me. Stay with me. One more time.

 

The King lifted up his head and in Hephaestion's eyes he only saw Alexander. Hephaestion rested an hand under his lover's chin:

- My Akilles...

Alexander smiled weakly, softly squeezing Hephaestion's hair:

- You are still so beautiful, Hephaestion.

The young man flushed slightly:

- I'm no longer a boy, Alexander.

The King caressed Hephaestion's mouth with his own:

- I don't care. I love you. I will always want you.

Clinging to Hephaestion's body, he started undressing him, kissing his lover's face. Hephaestion buried his fingers in Alexander's hair, ruffling them, smiling sweetly.

 

I love you so much, Alexander. My King. My general.

My fair boy.

 

Moaning softly, Hephaestion laid down on the furs, welcoming his lover with a soft whisper:

- Come to me, my King.

The deep night found them still embraced in a singing passion, wrapping their shadows with its soft stroke. Hephaestion's eyes were closed, but he didn't notice the darkness.

 

They have all faded away, now.

Take my hands, Alexander. In this silence we will live our night, we will see this dawn and that sunset will come on us.

Take my hands. There will be nothing else.

 

 

parisad