Work Text:
Bagoas observed with anxious trepidation the emotional play reflected in Alexander's face. He was still fretting. No intelligible words could be heard among the murmuring... the unceasing, angry murmuring of the king.
The space inside the tent grew smaller and smaller with the constant walking to and fro. The Persian eunuch kept watching his lover debating with himself. His lover!
Was he ?!
'Yes,' the beautiful dark haired young man thought with satisfaction, 'I am his lover and he is my lover. The king. My king.'
The passion for Roxane had diminished long ago, visiting her only from time to time, in search of an heir to the vast kingdom. The other wife, Statira, was an official spouse for political endings. So were the recent Barsine and Parysatis. And there was Hephaistion...
Hephaistion!
Only the thought of that name made his young heart shudder. He hated Hephaistion. Always near Iskander, even when miles away! The king was always talking about 'his Hephaistion'.
Even now, after all the problems that the blue eyed Macedonian had caused, he was not sent away or punished. But now everyone knew what he was to the king: nothing! Nothing, without Alexander!
So, why was Iskander acting like this?! Like is soul was ripped apart and his spirit restless and distressed! Bagoas was there, like always, giving the greatest man of all his love, his presence, his body and soul.
Bagoas moved his eyes from the king to dispel the dark hurting thoughts.
He looked at the floor with a heavy heart when the words that kept falling from Alexander's lips became discernible for a moment.
"Why did Hephaistion made me say those words?!" - Alexander felt like his heart was cracking. He was angry at himself, at Hephaistion, at Eumenes, at his companions, at the whole world!
His raged breaths were laud reverberating along the cloth walls that vibrated with the wind. As if them too were angry at Alexander.
The king stopped is pacing, looking at the so beautiful and sensual Persian.
"Oh Bagoas! My sweet Bagoas." his eyes begged the boy for something that neither could understand what.
"Iskander." whispered the dark haired one with adoration and longing in his eyes and in his voice.
"Swear to me!" the king neared him and put a hand in his silken black hair. "Swear you will never bring me pain!" he let his hand slide through the long hair until one smooth cheek, tenderly raising Bagoas face to him. "Swear you will always be with me."
"Yes, my King!" the boy answered, pleased. "I love you, Iskander, I would never cause you pain or leave you alone. My love for you is greater than anyone else's!" he turned his face kissing the inside of Alexander's hand. Then he lowered his head, in a shy movement. "I was hopping you already knew that. I would never disobey an order from you. I would be a friend of my enemy if you asked me for it. My life and my heart are yours!" his voice was soft and warm. "I'm spread at your feet for you to use."
Bagoas prostrated himself at Alexander feet, with slow slick sensual movements.
After a moment of indecision, mesmerized by the flexible body, Alexander kneeled and made the eunuch rise from that position.
"No need, my lovely Bagoas!"
The king felt a warm fondness at the persian's display, calming his soul's turmoil.
If Hephaistion was there he would tell him his need for ass kissing and god adoration was been filled with the boy's action.
The smile that was on his face for a moment, disappeared.
Hephaistion was not there! Why did he keep invading his mind like he belonged there? Why was he not like Bagoas?!
His left hand touched the pendent that rested near his heart.
He felt like his breath was not enough to sustain his soul, his heart!
What if Bagoas was right? What if Hephaistion had found another one? The constant animosity towards Eumenes... did he found something about Hephaistion? Cassander was always confronting Hephaistion with looks and whispered words...was something more behind it?!
No!
Alexander closed his eyes feeling the deep presence of his best friend around him, seeping through the pendent they shared.
Like a light in the dark...
Like a sweet smell in the void...
Like the rain in the desert, the grass in the prairie... surrounding him... loving him completely. Always.
Hephaistion did not always agreeds with him.
He always supports me when we are with others and scold me in private. Always!
The pain in his heart started to grow while his mind kept replaying his own words.
Without me you are nothing.
He, the king of all Greece and Persia. He, the one that have deeds greater than Prometeus. He, the one that gave freedom and culture. The one that brought humanity to the humankind! He, Alexander, the sun, felt like had lost everything, burnt by his own words.
"What good is to be the sun if I cannot touch what I love!" he whispered, pain colouring his words. He looked at his hands, angst spreading in his beautiful features. "I burn what I love! There are ashes in my heart!..."
Bagoas voice, soft and caring, floated breaking is mourn.
"You're tired, Iskander, I will prepare a soothing bath, if you wish. Let your body relax and so will your heart."
Alexander looked at him, eyes full of pain and resignation. A little smile blossom in his grieving lips.
"So like the moon," not moving, only murmuring. "always looking over me, seeing to my needs, day and night, sometimes visible sometimes discrete... so like the moon... shining in the darkness of my days."
The young Persian felt a warm feeling spread along his chest! He was the moon to Iskander sun!
A deep and hurtful breath left Alexander lips.
"Prepare my bath, Bagoas. You are right. I need to relax a little." The moonlight that peeked through the flapping tent door called to him. "I need fresh air!"
Bagoas stood there, in the middle of the richly decorated royal tent, watching the sun move away from him. Again. He stood in his own shadows. Alone.
***
It was not late in the night. The encampment was covered in hushed voices, a black silence broken by little fires were the soldiers and other men chatted around it, warming their hands.
The Spring night sky was beautiful! The smell of chilled air, clean air, diminished the burning in his chest.
He walked a little, sharing a few words with his men. Not willing to converse, too upset for small talk, Alexander turned away from the main encampment. There was only one person he wish to talk to.
The silhouettes of the mountains were like a dark blue revolting sea, frozen by the light of the moon that slowly passed in the night sky, a silver light.
Alexander searched for Hephaistion. He was nowhere! Did he leave the encampment?!
Ptolemy pointed the direction where he saw the soft spoken general the last time. The king saw reproach and hurt in his friend eyes, and a warning. Alexander was the king, but that look from Ptolemy told him what kind of lowlife he was now to the blondredish curly man.
Not even after seeing the repentance and anguish in Alexander features did he let up the scolding. He could wrench the kings' neck with his glance!
Alexander turned away in the pointed direction with a haste in his steps.
But Hephaistion was not there anymore.
How much can a soul bleed before the pain be felt no more?!
His heart felt heavy and a desperation start to settle inside him.
The landscape was calm and darkened with the night cloak. The mountains in the distance were still visible by the moonlight.
A big almost full moon shined like a gem in a dark blue velvet gown. It was impossible not to be seen and marvelled upon it.
"What a beautiful moon!" Alexander exclaimed in a loud, tired whisper.
"A dangerous moon." A voice, grave and raspy sounded as if coming from the surrounding air.
The king searched among the shadows, frowning, trying to decide if it was friend or foe. Although the outer soldiers kept the perimeter safe, one should not be too at ease at night. He thought to be alone.
An old Persian man was sitting near a stone wall, dressing in dark blue and grey blending with the stones he rested against. Alexander approached him, recognizing him as one of the Persian elders.
"What do you mean, wise man?" he asked with curiosity.
The old man gave him a little smile then went back to his own stargazing. "Have you ever gone to battle by the light of the moon?"
"Of course not!" What kind of question was that? For sure the Persian had assist Alexanders' battles. "All my battles were won under the strong light of the sun!" the Macedonian king was almost feeling insulted. "Only cowards attack covered in shadows. I honour my enemies! I face them in the open, never hide from my destiny!"
"I know you don't, my king." The wise old Persian pierced Alexanders' eyes with his. "The moon covers the world in a silver glow, beautiful, deceptive, shadows shroud everything that is bad. And good." He turned again, looking to the blackened mountains. " And sometimes... the good seems bad by the dark shadows cast by the paleness of the moonlight. It plays with our minds. Plays with our hearts. The seeds of distrust, suspicion, doubt... grow under the moonlight."
Alexander was mesmerized by the old man words. A bad moon?!
"How many times have men loved under the deceived light of the night only to face the pain of reality by the sunlight in the morning?! The love for the moon is heartbreak. A fantasy. A sweet fantasy."
The ceasing of the coarse voice made Alexander turned to watch what the other was still looking.
"How can the moon be bad?!" he asked, not ready to accept that concept.
"My gods are not your gods." answered the Persian.
Alexander looked at him. That did not explain anything!
The wise man smiled again, sensing Alexanders' confusion.
"Do you know how our gods created the moon?" the younger man shook his head. "In the beginnings of time, Tiamat, the sea, mother of all gods, was so bothered by the noise her children made with the dispute and the fights, she created monsters with poison as blood: giant dragons, colossal lions, sea monsters and scorpion-men. She wanted them to kill hers and Apsus' children, since he tried once and failed. But the god Marduk saved all the other gods by captivating the monsters and Tiamat in a net. He, then, destroyed Tiamat using her body to create the Universe. He broke it in two halves using one to create the Earth and bending the other part he created the sky. He made the moon from her liver!"
Alexander smiled a little.
"The moon from her liver!" he toyed with the strange idea in his mind. It was not romantic! There was no beautiful Selene or Artemis, no purity and honour.
The old mans' voice interrupted his thoughts.
"Have you ever undone the parts of an ox or a hog? You must be careful with the little foul bag behind the liver! It can ruin a good meal!" he laughed with some old memory, and got up, preparing to leave.
"Young king, never forget that the moon has a foul side that we not always can see!"
He made a curtsy and disappeared amongst the night, his silhouette momentary illuminated by the several fires the soldiers kept along the encampment.
The silence descended again, surrounding the blond man.
Stars glittered in the black velvet sky. Keeping company to the moon. It was difficult to see it as 'bad'!
A dark moon.
How could something that seems so pure and shinning, so beautiful and soft... be deceiving and false?!
Alexander slowly shook his head. That was nonsense. And yet... it made sense, in a way.
Like a Troyan Horse.
Something bad disguised as something with beauty and harmless. That could be lethal. Ulysses knew that! Achilles knew that.
Achilles.
A heavy sigh rise from his soul.
Achilles would never say those words to his Patroclus!
"Hephaistion..." A prayer in the night. "Forgive me."
He felt ashamed of himself, hurt by the words that had been thrown from his mouth. Hurt from the pain he saw in Hephaistion eyes.
He needed his friend in his life, like air to breathe. His beloved. His reason to live. His soulmate!
Without Hephaistion there was a king, but there was no Alexander.
"I'm nothing without you..."
The words floated away from him carried by the soft chill wind, moistened by warm salty tears.
The darken mountains stood silent watch, the lonely witness to the solitary man that wept silently in the middle of the night. A night lightened by the silvery light of the moon.
A dark moon.
And a lonely weeping sun!
The End
Notes : When Alexander and his men were returning to Ecbatana , after the mass wedding at Susa (where Hephaistion married Drypetis and Alexander Barsine and Parysatis) in the spring of 324 bc, the same year that Hefestion died (October 324 bc) it was said he lost his patient and said to Hephaistion something like Without me you are nothing or I've made you what you are or You are nothing without me. It occurred when ending a fight between Hephaistion and Eumenes, the secretary of Alexander. The enmity between the two had come from before and Alexander had already made them shake hands against their will.