Alexander/Hephaistion Alphabet Challenge - "Scarred by guilt"
Title: Scarred by guilt, part 1
Pairing: Alexander/Hephaistion
Rating: R
Warnings: m/m slash, angst,
Beta: the wonderful piximyr
Word Count: 2,340 this part
A/N: Written for the Alexander Alphabet Challenge. As usual, my writing falls to the emotional side rather than the historical, since I claim to know nothing about actual history.
-beautiful banner by namida_no_ame -
“To whom do you pray?”
Alexander didn’t need to turn around to see the owner of the voice - the voice that always made his heart light up, beat faster and grow lighter. “Phobos.”
“Fear? And what is it you fear most, Alexander?”
The King sighed deeply, his eyes not leaving the full moon that lit up the night sky. He’d avoided Hephaistion all evening, deserting the dining tent before his beloved companion would notice. He wished his thoughts were as clear as the cool night air and unfaltering moon above him. What did he fear most? Was it whether he would be able to lead his men to victory in what he knew would be a bloody battle? Or perhaps, being unable to prove his worth as the true warrior that he still considered himself to be, and that which was expected of him?
Going into battle provided a fearful anticipation all on its own, even without the added responsibilities of having and entire army depending on his decisions and capabilities. As king, Alexander had to be aware of what was going on at all times, had to be strong and unaffected by emotions no matter how chaotically rampant that they ran through his body, attacking his mind, and sending his heart soaring with anxiety.
“It is not fear, Hephaistion, just the same nervousness that I feel before any battle. You should know that by now, my friend.”
Hephaistion shifted his weight from one foot to the other, moving his body so he stood before Alexander, his own eyes narrowing as the king’s face remaining lifted to the brightness of the moon. Alexander saw Hephaistion’s movement from the corner of his eye, saw him but didn’t dare look directly at him or meet his icy blue gaze. He was positive Hephaistion would know what was really going on inside his head and heart with one simple look into his troubled eyes. Hephaistion could always identify what was happening inside Alexander, inside his brain, his heart and his soul, and the King did not want that being the case when his thoughts were so chaotic and troubling.
“Fear is not something to be ashamed of.”
It took all of Alexander’s remaining resolve to continue his charade. “As I already stated, I have no fear in my heart at this moment, Hephaistion. I am simply running the strategies and plans of tomorrow’s battle through my head.”
Hephaistion cocked his head, eyes squinted at his friend. “But you did say you were praying.” Why was it that Hephaistion was the only one to ever see through Alexander’s facade, the only one who ever dared see into his heart and soul, the only one brave enough to always question him?
Alexander was afraid, but in no way because of his responsibilities as king, nor his capability to lead his men and prove himself. He cared not for any of that at the moment, for his mind centered on only one thing in his life.
He continued to watch from the corner of his eye as Hephaistion turned his back to him, raising his eyes to the moon above, and wrapping his cloak tighter around his body.
“I have a strong belief that prayer is good for the soul, Alexander, but I believe fear is, as well. We cannot have a truly accurate view of the world around us and the things we have yet to face, without allowing fear to move our hearts and minds. Did Aristotle not always tell us that fear should be accepted into our souls so we could face it head on? Fear is a feeling that makes us strive to be better, and I believe we are better men because we allow fear to awaken all our senses and push us forward.”
If Hephaistion only knew how much fear Alexander truly had in his heart, how it ripped his very soul apart. But it wasn’t fear of losing a battle or losing his dignity and position. Alexander’s true apprehensions and discomforts, the ones that had followed him from the moment he met Hephaistion, revolved solely around losing the man he loved. Alexander’s most consuming fear was not for himself, his men or his kingdom, but for the best part of his life; the man who was anchored in his heart, the one whose very existence made Alexander stronger and more capable in everything he did.
“I have fears, Alexander, and there are times when they are truly abundant and overwhelming,” Hephaistion continued. “Do you believe that makes me a weak man?”
Alexander shook his head, finally drawing his eyes down from the sky to the familiar form before him. He wanted to grab Hephaistion, wanted to drag him into his tent and hold him, be held by him, love him. But he knew that was not to be ... because of his own preoccupation and fear.
Hephaistion turned then, brilliant blue eyes wrinkled with concern meeting wide brown eyes that held an important secret. A small nervous smile turned up the corners of Hephaistion’s mouth. “Do you? Believe me weak?”
“No,” Alexander managed to say, the words barely recognizable as they snuck out from between dry lips and a throat parched with nervousness. “I have never considered anything even remotely in that vein of thought, Phai.”
Alexander hoped Hephaistion never found out the extent that he worried about his love not returning from battle, how he stayed awake the night before each confrontation, tossing fitfully through frantic dreams, his mind not allowing him one moment of rest. It was one of the reasons he had never allowed himself to hold Hephaistion in his arms on the eve of battle, he just couldn’t bear the man he loved to see his fears and insecurities, and the last thing he wanted was for Hephaistion to worry about him.
“On the eve of battle, it’s hardest to be alone,” Hephaistion said, reading Alexander’s mind again, as the king felt his heart crack down the middle. “I understand it is a warrior’s code, but that does not stop me from feeling the loneliness and worry that every night will be our last together.”
Alexander could do nothing but stare at the beautiful man, his heart full and aching with love. It was like Hephaistion had read his thoughts, just like he always seemed to be able to do, delving into his very soul and exposing it raw, as he took Alexander’s fears as his own. It was beautiful and heart-warming and totally what Alexander did not want to happen.
He needed to keep his insecurities to himself, needed to allay Hephaistion’s worries and not let him ruminate about Alexander’s fears. He knew Hephaistion would drop everything to help him, to make him more comfortable, to lay down his life for him with nary a thought. But Alexander wanted his beloved to go into battle the next morning with only the fight on his mind.
♞ ♔ ♞ ♔ ♞
Hephaistion was worried, but not because Alexander had sent him away. He was used to that; the staunch superstitions of battle. He was worried because Alexander was just not himself, hadn’t been himself for days it seemed, his whole demeanor one of detachment and isolation. His usually bright, curious eyes had been replaced with a lackluster hue and darkness that flooded his irises and the skin surrounding them, both clear signs that Hephaistion’s love had not been sleeping well. The king’s shorter fuse and quickening impatience with Hephaistion and the men were also clear indications of Alexander’s discomfort.
Truth be told, Hephaistion felt Alexander had been shutting him out completely as of late, the stress and worry apparent in his body and actions, but with no invitations to share the burden. That was unusual in their relationship. Hephaistion had always been the one Alexander came to when he needed to relax and rebuild his thoughts, in both a mental and physical way.
And if Hephaistion was truly honest with himself, the decline in their physical relationship was also worrying to him. They had not made love in a couple of weeks. In fact, they had not been at all intimate in their dealings, and though Hephaistion never made any claim to Alexander’s body or his personal encounters, he still believed he was first in his heart. Alexander always seemed to find solace and rejuvenation in Hephaistion’s body and arms and heart, and that he had not been doing so, was of great concern.
As he walked further away from Alexander’s tent, Hephaistion struggled to not turn back. His entire body and soul longed to hold Alexander, to feel the warm glow of his beloved remove all the insecurities he was feeling, but he knew it wasn’t Alexander’s duty to do so. Hephaistion didn’t wish to cast any extra shadows of worry on his love, especially being that he already seemed lost in the darkness of his own cloud.
Since returning to Alexander was not a tangible or intelligent option in Hephaistion’s mind and he didn’t want to go back to his tent, he wrapped his cloak tighter around himself and sat down on the ridge. Pulling his knees into his chest, he hugged them close and let his eyes drift to the clear evening sky where the moon and stars glowed above him. He closed his eyes briefly, feeling his romantic soul ache with the beauty of the night, a night he yearned to share with his love, a night he feared would be his last with Alexander. And though his mind did not cast any specific shadows, his jumbled thoughts of the past few days not clearly showing him what the darkness of his fears meant, he worried not for himself, but for Alexander.
Alexander. He was truly the first thing Hephaistion thought about in the morning and the last thing he thought about before closing his eyes to welcome Hypnos. There were even times when he chastised himself for acting like a love-sick woman because his thoughts strayed to the one in his heart so often. But in all honesty, he didn’t mind when that part of himself showed through, the part of him that wished only to be by Alexander’s side every moment of the day. The icy facade he’d always prided himself on maintaining in front of others was a hard burden to bear some days, and when he allowed himself to truly open up and be honest with himself, he was a much happier man.
Wrapping his cloak tighter still around his shivering body, Hephaistion lay back and closed his eyes. He had no plans of falling asleep, only of retreating from the tiredness of the day for a moment before returning to the empty loneliness of his tent for the night. As it turned out, he awoke as the sun peeked out from the horizon, chastising himself yet again for giving in to the weakness of his body and the longing in his heart.
♞ ♔ ♞ ♔ ♞
Alexander didn’t want to shut Hephaistion out, didn’t want to see the partially disguised hurt that illuminated his sparkling blue eyes, and it was very seldom in their history that he had ever done so. He couldn’t actually remember the last time he’d kept anything from his beloved, except perhaps when he first discovered his true feelings for his friend; a time that was edged firmly in his memory as one of the best time and the worst.
As he lay on his cot, his mind rumbling and rolling along with his body, he couldn’t even remember the remainder of the conversation he’d had with Hephaistion that evening, only that he had sent him away despite his longing to do the complete opposite. Rising from his bed, he swiped the sweat from his brow and crossed to the entrance of his tent. He could feel the cool night air and it felt good on the warmth of his damp skin. He had to calm down, had to rid himself of the fears that had risen to massive proportions since he’d closed his eyes to sleep, his nerves flailing helplessly under his skin.
He always worried about the battles that lay ahead, always worried about sending the man he loved into uncertain situations, but this time was different and so much worse. His mind would not let him focus on anything else, despite all he’d practiced over the years, and believed that he’d mastered.
The disorder of his mind even made him question Hephaistion’s assignment for the next day. He trusted Hephaistion to fight for him until the last breath left his body, trusted him to protect his men, trusted him to lead the most elite of his bodyguards, but in doing so, had he also put the man he loved in even more danger?
He’d been having dreams for over a week, dreams of Hephaistion dying a horrible, torturous death, premonitions of losing the man he’d lay down his very life to protect; the images harsh and vivid and raw. Seeing Hephaistion everyday had not allayed his fears, either, only made Alexander more worried and more inclined to do something he swore to Hephaistion that he would never do; treat him differently than any of the other men. What he really wanted to do was order Hephaistion to remain in camp the next day, to shelter him from the horrible fate that Alexander truly believed would befall him.
Flopping back down on his bed, he struggled with himself to not leave his tent, to not go find Hephaistion. It was something he just could not allow himself to do. Hephaistion would know something was amiss, would read his thoughts as he always did, and that would just make the situation worse for both of them. So he just lay there, staring up into the darkness, listening to the quiet sounds of the night, his heart aching, and his mind churning with confusion, fear and regret.
TBC
Pairing: Alexander/Hephaistion
Rating: R
Warnings: m/m slash, angst,
Beta: the wonderful piximyr
Word Count: 2,340 this part
A/N: Written for the Alexander Alphabet Challenge. As usual, my writing falls to the emotional side rather than the historical, since I claim to know nothing about actual history.
-beautiful banner by namida_no_ame -
“To whom do you pray?”
Alexander didn’t need to turn around to see the owner of the voice - the voice that always made his heart light up, beat faster and grow lighter. “Phobos.”
“Fear? And what is it you fear most, Alexander?”
The King sighed deeply, his eyes not leaving the full moon that lit up the night sky. He’d avoided Hephaistion all evening, deserting the dining tent before his beloved companion would notice. He wished his thoughts were as clear as the cool night air and unfaltering moon above him. What did he fear most? Was it whether he would be able to lead his men to victory in what he knew would be a bloody battle? Or perhaps, being unable to prove his worth as the true warrior that he still considered himself to be, and that which was expected of him?
Going into battle provided a fearful anticipation all on its own, even without the added responsibilities of having and entire army depending on his decisions and capabilities. As king, Alexander had to be aware of what was going on at all times, had to be strong and unaffected by emotions no matter how chaotically rampant that they ran through his body, attacking his mind, and sending his heart soaring with anxiety.
“It is not fear, Hephaistion, just the same nervousness that I feel before any battle. You should know that by now, my friend.”
Hephaistion shifted his weight from one foot to the other, moving his body so he stood before Alexander, his own eyes narrowing as the king’s face remaining lifted to the brightness of the moon. Alexander saw Hephaistion’s movement from the corner of his eye, saw him but didn’t dare look directly at him or meet his icy blue gaze. He was positive Hephaistion would know what was really going on inside his head and heart with one simple look into his troubled eyes. Hephaistion could always identify what was happening inside Alexander, inside his brain, his heart and his soul, and the King did not want that being the case when his thoughts were so chaotic and troubling.
“Fear is not something to be ashamed of.”
It took all of Alexander’s remaining resolve to continue his charade. “As I already stated, I have no fear in my heart at this moment, Hephaistion. I am simply running the strategies and plans of tomorrow’s battle through my head.”
Hephaistion cocked his head, eyes squinted at his friend. “But you did say you were praying.” Why was it that Hephaistion was the only one to ever see through Alexander’s facade, the only one who ever dared see into his heart and soul, the only one brave enough to always question him?
Alexander was afraid, but in no way because of his responsibilities as king, nor his capability to lead his men and prove himself. He cared not for any of that at the moment, for his mind centered on only one thing in his life.
He continued to watch from the corner of his eye as Hephaistion turned his back to him, raising his eyes to the moon above, and wrapping his cloak tighter around his body.
“I have a strong belief that prayer is good for the soul, Alexander, but I believe fear is, as well. We cannot have a truly accurate view of the world around us and the things we have yet to face, without allowing fear to move our hearts and minds. Did Aristotle not always tell us that fear should be accepted into our souls so we could face it head on? Fear is a feeling that makes us strive to be better, and I believe we are better men because we allow fear to awaken all our senses and push us forward.”
If Hephaistion only knew how much fear Alexander truly had in his heart, how it ripped his very soul apart. But it wasn’t fear of losing a battle or losing his dignity and position. Alexander’s true apprehensions and discomforts, the ones that had followed him from the moment he met Hephaistion, revolved solely around losing the man he loved. Alexander’s most consuming fear was not for himself, his men or his kingdom, but for the best part of his life; the man who was anchored in his heart, the one whose very existence made Alexander stronger and more capable in everything he did.
“I have fears, Alexander, and there are times when they are truly abundant and overwhelming,” Hephaistion continued. “Do you believe that makes me a weak man?”
Alexander shook his head, finally drawing his eyes down from the sky to the familiar form before him. He wanted to grab Hephaistion, wanted to drag him into his tent and hold him, be held by him, love him. But he knew that was not to be ... because of his own preoccupation and fear.
Hephaistion turned then, brilliant blue eyes wrinkled with concern meeting wide brown eyes that held an important secret. A small nervous smile turned up the corners of Hephaistion’s mouth. “Do you? Believe me weak?”
“No,” Alexander managed to say, the words barely recognizable as they snuck out from between dry lips and a throat parched with nervousness. “I have never considered anything even remotely in that vein of thought, Phai.”
Alexander hoped Hephaistion never found out the extent that he worried about his love not returning from battle, how he stayed awake the night before each confrontation, tossing fitfully through frantic dreams, his mind not allowing him one moment of rest. It was one of the reasons he had never allowed himself to hold Hephaistion in his arms on the eve of battle, he just couldn’t bear the man he loved to see his fears and insecurities, and the last thing he wanted was for Hephaistion to worry about him.
“On the eve of battle, it’s hardest to be alone,” Hephaistion said, reading Alexander’s mind again, as the king felt his heart crack down the middle. “I understand it is a warrior’s code, but that does not stop me from feeling the loneliness and worry that every night will be our last together.”
Alexander could do nothing but stare at the beautiful man, his heart full and aching with love. It was like Hephaistion had read his thoughts, just like he always seemed to be able to do, delving into his very soul and exposing it raw, as he took Alexander’s fears as his own. It was beautiful and heart-warming and totally what Alexander did not want to happen.
He needed to keep his insecurities to himself, needed to allay Hephaistion’s worries and not let him ruminate about Alexander’s fears. He knew Hephaistion would drop everything to help him, to make him more comfortable, to lay down his life for him with nary a thought. But Alexander wanted his beloved to go into battle the next morning with only the fight on his mind.
♞ ♔ ♞ ♔ ♞
Hephaistion was worried, but not because Alexander had sent him away. He was used to that; the staunch superstitions of battle. He was worried because Alexander was just not himself, hadn’t been himself for days it seemed, his whole demeanor one of detachment and isolation. His usually bright, curious eyes had been replaced with a lackluster hue and darkness that flooded his irises and the skin surrounding them, both clear signs that Hephaistion’s love had not been sleeping well. The king’s shorter fuse and quickening impatience with Hephaistion and the men were also clear indications of Alexander’s discomfort.
Truth be told, Hephaistion felt Alexander had been shutting him out completely as of late, the stress and worry apparent in his body and actions, but with no invitations to share the burden. That was unusual in their relationship. Hephaistion had always been the one Alexander came to when he needed to relax and rebuild his thoughts, in both a mental and physical way.
And if Hephaistion was truly honest with himself, the decline in their physical relationship was also worrying to him. They had not made love in a couple of weeks. In fact, they had not been at all intimate in their dealings, and though Hephaistion never made any claim to Alexander’s body or his personal encounters, he still believed he was first in his heart. Alexander always seemed to find solace and rejuvenation in Hephaistion’s body and arms and heart, and that he had not been doing so, was of great concern.
As he walked further away from Alexander’s tent, Hephaistion struggled to not turn back. His entire body and soul longed to hold Alexander, to feel the warm glow of his beloved remove all the insecurities he was feeling, but he knew it wasn’t Alexander’s duty to do so. Hephaistion didn’t wish to cast any extra shadows of worry on his love, especially being that he already seemed lost in the darkness of his own cloud.
Since returning to Alexander was not a tangible or intelligent option in Hephaistion’s mind and he didn’t want to go back to his tent, he wrapped his cloak tighter around himself and sat down on the ridge. Pulling his knees into his chest, he hugged them close and let his eyes drift to the clear evening sky where the moon and stars glowed above him. He closed his eyes briefly, feeling his romantic soul ache with the beauty of the night, a night he yearned to share with his love, a night he feared would be his last with Alexander. And though his mind did not cast any specific shadows, his jumbled thoughts of the past few days not clearly showing him what the darkness of his fears meant, he worried not for himself, but for Alexander.
Alexander. He was truly the first thing Hephaistion thought about in the morning and the last thing he thought about before closing his eyes to welcome Hypnos. There were even times when he chastised himself for acting like a love-sick woman because his thoughts strayed to the one in his heart so often. But in all honesty, he didn’t mind when that part of himself showed through, the part of him that wished only to be by Alexander’s side every moment of the day. The icy facade he’d always prided himself on maintaining in front of others was a hard burden to bear some days, and when he allowed himself to truly open up and be honest with himself, he was a much happier man.
Wrapping his cloak tighter still around his shivering body, Hephaistion lay back and closed his eyes. He had no plans of falling asleep, only of retreating from the tiredness of the day for a moment before returning to the empty loneliness of his tent for the night. As it turned out, he awoke as the sun peeked out from the horizon, chastising himself yet again for giving in to the weakness of his body and the longing in his heart.
♞ ♔ ♞ ♔ ♞
Alexander didn’t want to shut Hephaistion out, didn’t want to see the partially disguised hurt that illuminated his sparkling blue eyes, and it was very seldom in their history that he had ever done so. He couldn’t actually remember the last time he’d kept anything from his beloved, except perhaps when he first discovered his true feelings for his friend; a time that was edged firmly in his memory as one of the best time and the worst.
As he lay on his cot, his mind rumbling and rolling along with his body, he couldn’t even remember the remainder of the conversation he’d had with Hephaistion that evening, only that he had sent him away despite his longing to do the complete opposite. Rising from his bed, he swiped the sweat from his brow and crossed to the entrance of his tent. He could feel the cool night air and it felt good on the warmth of his damp skin. He had to calm down, had to rid himself of the fears that had risen to massive proportions since he’d closed his eyes to sleep, his nerves flailing helplessly under his skin.
He always worried about the battles that lay ahead, always worried about sending the man he loved into uncertain situations, but this time was different and so much worse. His mind would not let him focus on anything else, despite all he’d practiced over the years, and believed that he’d mastered.
The disorder of his mind even made him question Hephaistion’s assignment for the next day. He trusted Hephaistion to fight for him until the last breath left his body, trusted him to protect his men, trusted him to lead the most elite of his bodyguards, but in doing so, had he also put the man he loved in even more danger?
He’d been having dreams for over a week, dreams of Hephaistion dying a horrible, torturous death, premonitions of losing the man he’d lay down his very life to protect; the images harsh and vivid and raw. Seeing Hephaistion everyday had not allayed his fears, either, only made Alexander more worried and more inclined to do something he swore to Hephaistion that he would never do; treat him differently than any of the other men. What he really wanted to do was order Hephaistion to remain in camp the next day, to shelter him from the horrible fate that Alexander truly believed would befall him.
Flopping back down on his bed, he struggled with himself to not leave his tent, to not go find Hephaistion. It was something he just could not allow himself to do. Hephaistion would know something was amiss, would read his thoughts as he always did, and that would just make the situation worse for both of them. So he just lay there, staring up into the darkness, listening to the quiet sounds of the night, his heart aching, and his mind churning with confusion, fear and regret.
TBC