Title: Consequences
Author: Qaddafi the Ripper
Summary: With all good things comes a price. Alexander and Hephaistion face the difficulties of being young and in love. Rated NC-17 for graphic sex.
Part Three: Comfort
The queen left shortly after her talk with Alexander, leaving Mieza in a turmoil behind her. Everyone had heard her and Alexander, or enough to guess the rest. Hephaistion wandered around as if he were sleep walking; he'd wanted to go chasing off after Alexander even though he didn't know where to look, but Ptolemy had held him up until Aristotle forbade it. By the time dinner rolled around, Alexander still hadn't come back. The day had been one whole mess of misery, having the other boys staring at him, clearly trying to decide if the queen was right and he was only using Alexander. Philotas had seemed disturbed, perhaps even guilty, and if Hephaistion had been thinking more clearly he would have wondered why. Ptolemy, who noticed also, made a mental note to try and find out the reason. Kassander looked positively triumphant.
Hephaistion was growing sick with worry when Alexander returned, striding into the hall as energetically as ever, but without once glancing towards Hephaistion. He jumped to his feet and hurried after Alexander, reaching their room just after the prince. A letter had been left by one of the servants on the small table between the beds; Alexander picked it up and frowned at it. Hephaistion closed the door behind him and stood silent, unsure what he should say, if anything.
Alexander opened the letter impatiently, his eyes cold as he read it, mouth moving but no sound coming out. "Proud of you?" Alexander read aloud in shock. "Your mother is so upset about it... glad you could get her off my back for awhile... hope you enjoyed it..." His expression darkened as he continued to mutter snippets aloud. Hephaistion thought the letter might be from Philip from what he'd heard of it. He cringed and hoped it didn't incite Alexander further, but didn't hold out any hope for that. Hearing his parents disagree and, worse, using him as a weapon in their fights, always made Alexander get upset.
He stepped away from the door towards Alexander, thinking that he might help him somehow or at least be there for him, when Alexander turned pale and clutched the letter tightly. Hephaistion stopped, stared at his friend whose hands were shaking. "Alexander?" he began hesitantly.
With a loud rip, Alexander tore the message in half, and then in half again, his face contorted with fury. He strode out of the room, Hephaistion close on his heels. He made his way to the kitchen, where he flung the pieces of the letter into the fire that was still burning there. He watched as the parchment darkened, shriveled up, and finally grumbled. When the letter was turned completely to ash, Alexander left the kitchen and returned to their room, never once even looking at Hephaistion.
He bit his lip in worry. What could the king have written that had upset Alexander so? It couldn't just have been an argument with the queen; while such incidents upset Alexander, he was used to them by now. Alexander stood still, glaring out the window, fists clenched tightly. Hephaistion sat on his bed slowly, watching. He had no idea what he should do to assist; it didn't help that he was part of the problem. So he merely sat there silent as Alexander brooded.
When Alexander finally turned and saw him, his heart lifted for a moment. But it fell again when he saw his friend's face. It was distant, angry, wild; like in battle, he thought. For one terrifying moment, he wondered if Alexander meant to attack him. But when Alexander walked over to stand above him, he pulled Hephaistion's head up by the hair and kissed him desperately.
Hephaistion calmed down some as he let Alexander ravage his mouth. At least this meant that Alexander didn't intend to give him up, despite Olympias's so called advice. He was surprised when Alexander pushed him back onto the bed and crawled on top of him. In their short time together as lovers, it had always been Hephaistion who initiated things, though Alexander had been eager enough to follow him. Perhaps Alexander just needed confirmation that he too could be in control. Hephaistion kissed Alexander back with more passion, wrapping his arms around the shorter boy, trying to ignore that quiet voice in his head that said something was wrong here.
Alexander had them both quickly out of their clothes, and he pressed himself against Hephaistion desperately, clutching him like a drowning man. Hephaistion tried to soothe him, but Alexander would have none of it, refusing to be tamed. He wrapped his legs around Hephaistion while his hands bit into Hephaistion's shoulders. He was panting loudly and Hephaistion didn't think it was just passion.
"Calm down," he whispered, rubbing his hands slowly across Alexander's lower back. "There's no need to rush."
"Closer," Alexander muttered. "I want to get closer to you." He rubbed the length of his body against Hephaistion's.
Hephaistion caught his breath and closed his eyes. When he could speak again, he said, "We can't get any closer than this, Alexander." He moved against Alexander too, thinking that fast and hard wasn't all bad.
Alexander jerked back. "We can get closer," he gasped. "You can be inside of me." He reached down and grasped Hephaistion's erection, making his meaning plain.
Hephaistion gaped at him for a moment. Did he really mean that? They weren't supposed to do that with each other, only with women. His cock hardened at the thought and under Alexander's touch, and he admitted to himself that he wanted to do that. And if Alexander was willing, didn't that mean it was alright? "Are you sure?" he asked, voice shaky.
"Yes. I want you now," Alexander growled. He shifted his hips, sitting up right on top of Hephaistion's legs. Hephaistion ran a hand down the curve of Alexander's bottom, wondering distantly just how this was supposed to work. He slipped his hand between Alexander's thighs and felt around cautiously. He found a small hole that, when he slipped a finger into it, made Alexander gasp. It was hot and tight in there, and he had to push to get his finger in all the way. His loins grew heavy at the thought of his cock up there, but he also felt a shiver of uncertainty. He didn't think he could fit, the opening was so small.
He inserted another finger, pushing them up into Alexander simultaneously. Alexander was biting his lip and hanging onto Hephaistion's shoulders so tightly there'd surely be bruises there tomorrow. When Hephaistion took his fingers out, Alexander moaned. Hephaistion took hold of Alexander's hips in both hands and positioned him above his own desperate need. "Are you sure about this?" he asked.
"Yes," Alexander panted and, before Hephaistion could think to stop him, pushed himself down onto Hephaistion's cock. Hephaistion gasped in pleasure as he was surrounded with warmth, pushing desperately against tight walls. He closed his eyes in delight and pulled Alexander down the rest of the way until he was fully inside his lover. Since his eyes were closed, he missed the shock of pain that crossed Alexander's face at their joining.
He lay there, reveling in the feel of Alexander surrounding him. He pulled Alexander down for a kiss and found his friend stiff and resisting. He opened his eyes to find Alexander staring at him blankly, biting his lip so hard he'd drawn blood. "Alexander!" he cried. "What's wrong? Oh gods, don't tell me I hurt you."
The look Alexander turned on him was wilder and more desperate than the one he'd had earlier. "Of course not," he managed to gasp out. He gripped Hephaistion harder. "Move!"
Hephaistion paused, but when Alexander ordered him a second time, he started shifting his hips. If being inside of Alexander had been wonderful, then this was more. He had to push hard in order to keep moving in and out of Alexander. Alexander tightened his legs around his waist, and Hephaistion sped up. He might have wanted to go slow, to savor this, but he was past thought by now, moving blindly, desperately, taking as much of Alexander as he could.
He didn't last very long. He came with a strangled cry, emptying his seed inside of Alexander. He collapsed afterwards, far more worn out than from anything else they'd done before. Alexander lay down on top of him, running a hand gently through Hephaistion's hair, and he let himself drift off to sleep.
Alexander lay silent for a long time until he was certain Hephaistion was completely asleep. He unwound himself from Hephaistion, his lover's softened length slipping out of him. Then he pulled himself out of bed carefully, moving slowly. His whole body ached, especially between his legs where Hephaistion had been. There was something running down his leg; he wiped it off, not looking to see what it was, but it smelled like semen and blood. He hadn't thought it would hurt that much, but at least he'd kept Hephaistion from realizing he was in pain. He pulled the blankets up over Hephaistion and picked up his clothes from where they'd landed on the floor, wincing as he leaned over. It took him a long time before he was dressed, and when he finished he stood there panting, trying to ignore how much he ached.
He turned to leave, but paused and looked back at Hephaistion. He could barely make out his lover's features in the dim light of the moon that filtered into their room. Hephaistion slept deeply, a quiet, satisfied smile on his lips. At the sight, Alexander's heart throbbed, begging him to stay. But he mastered himself, turned his back to Hephaistion, and left the room.
He made his way slowly down the hallway, grateful that he didn't run into anyone. He stopped when he reached Aristotle's study. He could see brief flickers of candlelight from beneath the door, so the philosopher was still awake, working. He desperately needed to talk to someone. He'd hoped being by himself all day with Bucephalus would help, but it hadn't. He could admit to himself, if no one else, that he had no idea what he should do. He wished Lysimachos was here for him to talk to; his old friend would surely know what to do in this situation. But Lysimachos was back in Pella, which was the last place Alexander wanted to be at the moment, since both his parents were there. Well, Aristotle was being paid, and paid handsomely, to teach him, so he should be willing to give out a few grains of wisdom, even this late at night.
He knocked and when the philosopher called "Enter!" came inside. Aristotle didn't look too surprised to see him and motioned for Alexander to take the other seat. Remembering how much it had hurt to stand up, Alexander shook his head and remained standing. "Did running away for the whole day help?" Aristotle asked calmly, folding his hands on his desk in front of him.
"Not really," Alexander said after a moment. "I just got more confused. It didn't help getting that letter when I got back." He glanced away from his teacher's sharp gaze.
"What letter?" Aristotle asked, frowning. Surely the boy's parents couldn't have done anything to make things worse, right?
"The letter from my father," Alexander answered, confirming that his parents had indeed managed to make things even worse. "He congratulated me on making my mother upset. He said he hadn't seen her in such a fit since the first time he'd taken another woman after their marriage." Alexander's face twisted in frustration and hurt. "He said he hoped I'd enjoyed it and offered some advice on making it better."
He was silent for a long moment, and Aristotle relaxed a little. "That isn't so bad, is it? You knew he would say something like that." Although he found the idea of the king giving his son romantic advice rather disturbing.
"There was more," Alexander said, still not looking at him. "He finished saying the same things Mother said." He shifted on his feet, beginning to rethink this idea of talking to someone else. Sitting down was also beginning to sound like a good idea.
"Your mother said a number of things," Aristotle said carefully. He'd heard much of it, along with everyone else, that morning. "Which of those things did your father agree with?"
Alexander finally looked at him, his eyes burning. "He said that I shouldn't fall in love with Hephaistion because it wouldn't last. He said to enjoy him, and take what I need with him, and then leave him when I got bored for someone else." He turned away and rubbed at his face. "He said that Hephaistion was only sleeping with me because he wanted to influence me."
Aristotle stood, walked around his desk, and stopped next to Alexander, putting his hands gently on the prince's shoulders. "You poor boy," he murmured. Had the king and queen never noticed their son's sensitive side? Aristotle had seen it nearly from the beginning. Alexander craved love of any sort, and wilted without it. After visiting Mieza two months ago, the king had remarked to him that Alexander seemed brighter and livelier than he'd ever seen him. Of course, Aristotle had wanted to say but hadn't. He'd been trying all his life to get you and his mother to love him unconditionally like most parents, to not use him against each other, to make him feel wanted only for himself and not what he represented. Without them at Mieza and surrounded by close friends, Alexander had come to life in a way he never had before. He had begun to learn his own power and worth. But neither the king nor the queen, from what Aristotle could see, realized how much they themselves had hurt their son and stunted his growth.
Alexander had had little hope that both his parents would approve of his relationship with Hephaistion. He had hoped they would mostly ignore it and let him live his own life. At worst, he'd expected his mother to be against it, his father to be for it, and for them to fight with him and each other over it. Which had happened. What he hadn't expected was both of them telling him Hephaistion was using him and that being in love would end up in his ruin. "What if they're right?" he mumbled against Aristotle. It was a terrible thought; just thinking it nearly caused him to break down.
Aristotle thought carefully before answering. "As far as I know, neither your father nor your mother have ever been in love. Politics, expediency, and power are all they know. They have both seen, time and time again, people seducing Philip and other men of authority, simply to increase their own power and prestige. It's only natural for them to think that everyone is like that, since that is all they know.
"And Alexander," he added grimly, "there will be people like that in your life too. There will be people who act like they want you and like they love you, but in the end they will only be using you. You need to know that, and your parents need to remind you of that. A king can never afford to be off his guard, in matters of the heart most of all. Yes, in the end, everyone will want something from you."
"Even Hephaistion?" Alexander asked, his voice barely a whisper.
Aristotle was silent again before answering. "Have you finished reading that piece I gave you by Plato?" Alexander paused, confused by the sudden shift, before nodding. "Do you remember the part where he talks about an army full of lovers and beloveds?"
Alexander nodded again. "That was one of my favorite parts," he admitted. "When I become king, I shall have an army like that."
"Of course you will," Aristotle agreed fondly. He wasn't sure he believed it could be done, but he thought, if anyone, Alexander could do it. Perhaps he'd have had a better idea about it, if he'd had any experience with war himself. "Have you ever thought how that is supposed to happen?"
"Well, it must start with the leaders, of course," Alexander answered thoughtfully. "If the men can't believe, they'll never follow. If the general takes an interest in the men, knows their names, sees to their wounds, suffers the same hardships they do. If he does that, and wins, the men will grow to love him."
Aristotle nodded in approval. Alexander had clearly given the matter much thought. "And what does the general want from his men?"
"Loyalty. Hard work. Perseverance."
"And what do the men in the army want from their general?" he continued.
"Victory. The spoils of war. A chance to relax and have fun between battles. Knowledge that they can defeat their enemies."
Aristotle wondered how much time Alexander had spent among his father's troops, to have such a keen grasp on what the common soldier wanted. "And are these fair things to ask?"
"Of course. The general can't act without his men, and the army can't win without a good leader." Alexander paused and thought. "Are you trying to say that every relationship is like that?"
"Good relationships are like that," Aristotle corrected. "If one side does all the giving and the other all the receiving, that's not healthy. A strong relationship that can withstand time and hardship has both sides giving and receiving equally." He smiled at Alexander. "From what I've seen, you and Hephaistion are true friends, helping each other. Together, you've achieved more than either of you have on your own. Of course he wants things from you. He wants your love, your friendship, your loyalty, your time. And in return, he gives you those things because you need them too. The people you need to worry about as king are the ones who give you things you haven't wanted, and the people who take things without ever giving back." He stopped and waited. He could see practically Alexander's thoughts running across his eyes.
Alexander finally pulled away from his embrace and gave him a smile. It was still troubled, still hurt, still frustrated, but there was confidence and assurance there too. "Thank you," he said softly. "You really are wise."
"I'm a philosopher, aren't I?" Aristotle asked dryly. Alexander should be fine now. "Now run off and let me get some work done." Alexander gave him another, brighter smile before slowly leaving the room.
When he got back to his room, he pulled his clothes back off and climbed back in bed, still moving slowly. He barely noticed the ache, though whether that was because it had gone down or because he wasn't paying attention to it, he didn't bother to think about. He put a hand on Hephaistion's arm and shook him. "Hephaistion," he said. "Wake up."
Hephaistion turned and made a vague sound. Alexander sighed and shook his friend harder. Hephaistion finally woke up, smiling to see Alexander leaning over him. The smile faded though when he saw Alexander's solemn expression. "What's wrong?" he asked, sitting up.
"I was talking to Aristotle," Alexander said softly. Hephaistion felt a brief stab of hurt, that Alexander hadn't stayed in bed after they'd made love. But Alexander's eyes were calmer, clearer than they'd been before, so he felt relieved too. "That letter I got was from my father."
"I'd guessed that," Hephaistion nodded.
"He said I should give you up," Alexander continued. "He said you only were with me so you could get power, and I should put you aside before you could hurt me. He said exactly what Mother said."
"I would never hurt you," Hephaistion flared. "I love you!"
Alexander leaned against him. "I know you do," he said quietly. And then again, as if to make it true, "I know you do." They sat for a moment before Alexander picked up where he'd left off. "I spent today wondering if they were right, if you really were just using me. I was being stupid, but I thought they might be right. And then it hurt so much when we had sex that I had to do something."
Hephaistion's heart missed a beat. "I hurt you?" he whispered in horror.
"It was my idea," Alexander said firmly. "So it's my fault if I got hurt. We probably did it wrong," he added wryly. He turned and glared at Hephaistion. "Don't you dare get guilty on me. I said it was my fault. I was glad that you enjoyed it at least."
Hephaistion pressed his cheek into Alexander's hair and tried not to think about hurting Alexander. "So why did you talk to Aristotle?" he managed to ask.
"He's supposed to be wise. And he isn't involved in this, so I could trust his opinion more. He said," Alexander paused to take hold of Hephaistion's hand. "He said that there would be people I'd meet who would just want to use me and I'd need to be on my guard so that they couldn't. But he also said he didn't think you were one of them because we both help each other out. So I feel better now, because I have a reason to love you."
"I will never use you, nor will I ever stop loving you," Hephaistion breathed, tightening his hand around Alexander's.
"I know."
* * * * *
He'd left Alexander asleep in bed. They hadn't done anything else last night since Alexander was sore, but had stayed up a long time talking. Hephaistion felt much better afterwards and Alexander had even laughed. He still felt a little guilty about hurting Alexander, though. They'd work through it soon enough. Things were finally comfortable between them again. He looked over at Alexander's slumbering form and grinned like a love struck fool. Well, it was allowed since he was a love-struck fool. He turned back to the piece of parchment before him.
Dear Father and Mother,
I hope you're both doing well. Life is good at Mieza. I never imagined how much I could learn from Aristotle and I'm so glad I can be here.
I'm writing to you because you might hear some rumors about me and Alexander. I'm not sure how the king and queen found out, but they did. Anyway, yes it's true that we're lovers, and we're very happy together. Please don't go gossiping about it to anyone, but I want you to know the truth because I am so happy, and because you're my parents and I love you. There have been some problems, but we're gotten past them and we're both fine.
I want to thank you for always being there for me in my life and for always supporting me. It's easy to forget how much you mean to me while I'm away. But I know you'll support me being with Alexander, since it was Mother who realized I was in love with him before I did. I want to thank you for that support, and for your love. It took seeing how much Alexander's parents gave him a hard time over us for me to appreciate both of you, but I do. Please don't ever change! And if I ever forget to tell you how much I love you, please remember that it's because I just forgot, not because I stopped loving you.
Thank you again for being my parents. I'll love you always.
Hephaistion.
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