Alexander
Well, WOW! I'm thinking right now that the film critics who dissed this film probably don't know a lot about classics and are not slashers. That would cover pretty much all the reasons why I liked this film and they didn't.
It was pretty classically accurate! I'm not hugely into Alexander the Great, but my friend Amie said it was fairly accurate with a lot fewer Hollywood liberties than Troy. And bless Oliver Stone for re-educating the world and confirming to all that Achilles and Patroclus were not cousins but *lovers* and portraying Alexander and Hephaistion's relationship exactly how it should be done. There was not one kiss between them but it was one of the most romantic relationships I've seen portrayed - the lack of physicality between them only served to emphasise the depth of their love. *sigh*
The acting was fantastic. I think the critics who said the Alexander was submissive to his parents and an emotional brat don't understand classical mentality - that is the character of Alexander! You have great respect for your parents, which is why the Philip thing was so huge, and great heroes have great emotions. Colin Farrell and Jared Leto communicated longing and tenderness, Angelina Jolie was pure, undiluted evil and I loved it, and I don't think I can find a wrong portrayal there.
There were a couple of questionable directing decisions, like the slow-motion confrontation between Bucephalus and an elephant and the following over-saturation of reddish pink over Alexander's POV. A hint of red maybe, not lurid pink trees all over the screen. That said there were some fantastic shots and I loved the blurry camerawork of the battles - I didn't need to see gory deaths in full detail, I preferred just he impression of brutal chaos.
So, I loved it. But there wasn't enough comfort, so I've remedied that by writing this:
TITLE: A Hero’s Comfort
AUTHOR: Demon Faith
BASIS: ‘Alexander’ (Directed by Oliver Stone)
PAIRING: Alexander/Hephaistion
TIMEFRAME: Set after the Battle with Darius of Babylon.
RATING: PG-13
WARNINGS: Battle wounds, established A/H relationship
DISCLAIMER: Alexander is owned by Universal, Colin Farrell and Jared Leto belong happily to themselves and I make no money from this pleasure
NOTES: So I watched ‘Alexander’ yesterday, and having heard that it had been slated by critics everywhere, I feared the worst. But then I am a Classics student and a slasher, so I can only assume that I have a somewhat different perspective than the average film critic. I loved it, I will buy the DVD and I think Alexander and Hephaistion’s relationship couldn’t have been portrayed more beautifully. However, there needed to be more comfort and so here I am to provide it. :)
He watched him as they rode. Most others would be fooled, he thought, by the man’s squared shoulders and the reassuring nods. Many would overlook the ruby river coasting over that golden skin, eyes drawn instead to a winning smile and dark eyes full of hope and tomorrows. However, those men were not Hephaistion.
He saw every grimace, the slight list to one side in an attempt to relieve the agony that burned behind his eyes, and he remembered all too vividly the gruesome sight of metal piercing flesh, the momentary flash of panic in his heart.
Yet Alexander was astride his horse, avowing loudly to chase Darius to the ends of the earth. Hephaistion had learned to look beyond that brash Alexander and knew the troubled young man who would ride to the Encircling Sea just to say he had and that his father had not.
At last they arrived back at the camp and Hephaistion was hit instantly with the after-battle stench of fresh corpses and the groans of the dying. Men aided each other openly, flocking to the healers with their comrades-in-arms, their brothers, offering small comfort in their time of need. Hephaistion knew he would be permitted no such luxury - a king stood tall, could not let it be known that he also cried in the dark, craved a study shoulder to lean on.
Still, Hephaistion could stop him falling flat on his face. He swung down from his horse, ignoring the ache in his thighs, and drifted closer to Bucephalus, palm flattened against the beast’s mane. So temperamental, and yet he was used to Hephaistion now, would let him calm him just as well as Alexander. They were so alike, master and horse.
“A great victory, my king,” he said boldly, noting with mounting anxiety that Alexander was swaying. “Will you allow me this honour?”
Hephaistion held up a hand, face carefully neutral, as Alexander gave a little half-smile and graciously accepted the support as he dismounted.
Subtle hands steadied him on the ground, as he worked to swallow his gasp of pain.
“Let me tend you, Alexander,” was the hushed entreaty that slipped off his tongue and for a moment Alexander appeared to relent before shaking his head firmly.
“I will tour the healing tents. Then I will see to myself.”
Hephaistion lowered his gaze in submission and released Alexander carefully, eyes rising to see him attempt to hide his limp as he walked away. It would be a long wait back at the tent.
~
Apollo’s chariot had just reached the crest of the sky when Hephaistion heard heavy footsteps outside Alexander’s tent. The other men turned a very blind eye to the comings and goings of the noble horseman, accepting that if one went looking for Alexander, it would be a strange occurrence not to find Hephaistion at his side.
He had waited patiently in the royal tent, scraping the dust and blood from his skin and dressing in a new tunic. His wounds were few - a graze from an arrow, a couple of glancing blows from sword or spear; he was lucky that day.
A sliver of sunlight fell across the blanket where he lay and he rose quickly, watching Alexander’s weary, battered form eclipse the light.
“Hephaistion,” he murmured before pitching forward into his lover’s arms. He barely caught his king before he hit the dust and with great care turned him so he that he was lying across the furs that made up their bed.
“You should have come to me sooner,” he said, for once not caring if he spoke out of turn as his frantic hands worked to push the tunic up over his hips to survey the damage to his lover’s thigh. The blood was already beginning to clot around the edges of the jagged wound, and Hephaistion grimaced at the flecks of dust peppering the brilliant red.
“One day this foolishness will get you killed, Alexander. It is one thing to be brave and quite another to suffer needlessly.” He was aware that he was babbling but didn’t particularly care as he reached outside the tent flap for the sun-warmed water that he had left there. The bowl scorched his skin but he ignored the sting, as he soaked a rag and washed out the grime and darkened blood.
“I do not deserve you,” was the hazy whisper from his king, and Hephaistion paused to offer him a reassuring smile.
“It is not so bad,” he said thoughtfully, “you were lucky.”
“I always consider myself lucky,” Alexander replied, offering a smile of his own, dirty fingers clasping round Hephaistion’s cleansed hand. Hephaistion raised the hand and kissed at his wrist before uncurling his fingers.
“Let me work,” he said softly and returned to his task. Once he was satisfied, he took the healing oil from its protective wrappings and smoothed it liberally over the wound.
“There are much better uses for that,” Alexander muttered sleepily and Hephaistion smiled again, as he wound a bandage around his king’s thigh. It would scar certainly but it would not trouble him unduly provided he gave it the proper rest. Of course, the likelihood of confining Alexander to his tent without incentive was practically nil so Hephaistion held out little hope.
“You need to rest,” he said in a gently chiding tone, bending down to place a kiss on his forehead. Alexander shifted, bringing their lips together for a chaste moment before Hephaistion pulled away from him, running a hand through the dust-darkened hair.
“Water and oil for your skin and then sleep, Alexander. You need to recover for your great chase of Darius.”
“You will come with me then?” The imploring look and hope for approval flooded his dark, expressive eyes and Hephaistion smiled.
“Always, my king. I will always stand by your side.”
And as the horses of the sun headed back to Olympus, so Alexander slept in the arms of his beloved and found peace in the midst of war.
And here is a wallpaper I made of Paris and Legolas based on a quote from The Iliad.
It was pretty classically accurate! I'm not hugely into Alexander the Great, but my friend Amie said it was fairly accurate with a lot fewer Hollywood liberties than Troy. And bless Oliver Stone for re-educating the world and confirming to all that Achilles and Patroclus were not cousins but *lovers* and portraying Alexander and Hephaistion's relationship exactly how it should be done. There was not one kiss between them but it was one of the most romantic relationships I've seen portrayed - the lack of physicality between them only served to emphasise the depth of their love. *sigh*
The acting was fantastic. I think the critics who said the Alexander was submissive to his parents and an emotional brat don't understand classical mentality - that is the character of Alexander! You have great respect for your parents, which is why the Philip thing was so huge, and great heroes have great emotions. Colin Farrell and Jared Leto communicated longing and tenderness, Angelina Jolie was pure, undiluted evil and I loved it, and I don't think I can find a wrong portrayal there.
There were a couple of questionable directing decisions, like the slow-motion confrontation between Bucephalus and an elephant and the following over-saturation of reddish pink over Alexander's POV. A hint of red maybe, not lurid pink trees all over the screen. That said there were some fantastic shots and I loved the blurry camerawork of the battles - I didn't need to see gory deaths in full detail, I preferred just he impression of brutal chaos.
So, I loved it. But there wasn't enough comfort, so I've remedied that by writing this:
TITLE: A Hero’s Comfort
AUTHOR: Demon Faith
BASIS: ‘Alexander’ (Directed by Oliver Stone)
PAIRING: Alexander/Hephaistion
TIMEFRAME: Set after the Battle with Darius of Babylon.
RATING: PG-13
WARNINGS: Battle wounds, established A/H relationship
DISCLAIMER: Alexander is owned by Universal, Colin Farrell and Jared Leto belong happily to themselves and I make no money from this pleasure
NOTES: So I watched ‘Alexander’ yesterday, and having heard that it had been slated by critics everywhere, I feared the worst. But then I am a Classics student and a slasher, so I can only assume that I have a somewhat different perspective than the average film critic. I loved it, I will buy the DVD and I think Alexander and Hephaistion’s relationship couldn’t have been portrayed more beautifully. However, there needed to be more comfort and so here I am to provide it. :)
He watched him as they rode. Most others would be fooled, he thought, by the man’s squared shoulders and the reassuring nods. Many would overlook the ruby river coasting over that golden skin, eyes drawn instead to a winning smile and dark eyes full of hope and tomorrows. However, those men were not Hephaistion.
He saw every grimace, the slight list to one side in an attempt to relieve the agony that burned behind his eyes, and he remembered all too vividly the gruesome sight of metal piercing flesh, the momentary flash of panic in his heart.
Yet Alexander was astride his horse, avowing loudly to chase Darius to the ends of the earth. Hephaistion had learned to look beyond that brash Alexander and knew the troubled young man who would ride to the Encircling Sea just to say he had and that his father had not.
At last they arrived back at the camp and Hephaistion was hit instantly with the after-battle stench of fresh corpses and the groans of the dying. Men aided each other openly, flocking to the healers with their comrades-in-arms, their brothers, offering small comfort in their time of need. Hephaistion knew he would be permitted no such luxury - a king stood tall, could not let it be known that he also cried in the dark, craved a study shoulder to lean on.
Still, Hephaistion could stop him falling flat on his face. He swung down from his horse, ignoring the ache in his thighs, and drifted closer to Bucephalus, palm flattened against the beast’s mane. So temperamental, and yet he was used to Hephaistion now, would let him calm him just as well as Alexander. They were so alike, master and horse.
“A great victory, my king,” he said boldly, noting with mounting anxiety that Alexander was swaying. “Will you allow me this honour?”
Hephaistion held up a hand, face carefully neutral, as Alexander gave a little half-smile and graciously accepted the support as he dismounted.
Subtle hands steadied him on the ground, as he worked to swallow his gasp of pain.
“Let me tend you, Alexander,” was the hushed entreaty that slipped off his tongue and for a moment Alexander appeared to relent before shaking his head firmly.
“I will tour the healing tents. Then I will see to myself.”
Hephaistion lowered his gaze in submission and released Alexander carefully, eyes rising to see him attempt to hide his limp as he walked away. It would be a long wait back at the tent.
~
Apollo’s chariot had just reached the crest of the sky when Hephaistion heard heavy footsteps outside Alexander’s tent. The other men turned a very blind eye to the comings and goings of the noble horseman, accepting that if one went looking for Alexander, it would be a strange occurrence not to find Hephaistion at his side.
He had waited patiently in the royal tent, scraping the dust and blood from his skin and dressing in a new tunic. His wounds were few - a graze from an arrow, a couple of glancing blows from sword or spear; he was lucky that day.
A sliver of sunlight fell across the blanket where he lay and he rose quickly, watching Alexander’s weary, battered form eclipse the light.
“Hephaistion,” he murmured before pitching forward into his lover’s arms. He barely caught his king before he hit the dust and with great care turned him so he that he was lying across the furs that made up their bed.
“You should have come to me sooner,” he said, for once not caring if he spoke out of turn as his frantic hands worked to push the tunic up over his hips to survey the damage to his lover’s thigh. The blood was already beginning to clot around the edges of the jagged wound, and Hephaistion grimaced at the flecks of dust peppering the brilliant red.
“One day this foolishness will get you killed, Alexander. It is one thing to be brave and quite another to suffer needlessly.” He was aware that he was babbling but didn’t particularly care as he reached outside the tent flap for the sun-warmed water that he had left there. The bowl scorched his skin but he ignored the sting, as he soaked a rag and washed out the grime and darkened blood.
“I do not deserve you,” was the hazy whisper from his king, and Hephaistion paused to offer him a reassuring smile.
“It is not so bad,” he said thoughtfully, “you were lucky.”
“I always consider myself lucky,” Alexander replied, offering a smile of his own, dirty fingers clasping round Hephaistion’s cleansed hand. Hephaistion raised the hand and kissed at his wrist before uncurling his fingers.
“Let me work,” he said softly and returned to his task. Once he was satisfied, he took the healing oil from its protective wrappings and smoothed it liberally over the wound.
“There are much better uses for that,” Alexander muttered sleepily and Hephaistion smiled again, as he wound a bandage around his king’s thigh. It would scar certainly but it would not trouble him unduly provided he gave it the proper rest. Of course, the likelihood of confining Alexander to his tent without incentive was practically nil so Hephaistion held out little hope.
“You need to rest,” he said in a gently chiding tone, bending down to place a kiss on his forehead. Alexander shifted, bringing their lips together for a chaste moment before Hephaistion pulled away from him, running a hand through the dust-darkened hair.
“Water and oil for your skin and then sleep, Alexander. You need to recover for your great chase of Darius.”
“You will come with me then?” The imploring look and hope for approval flooded his dark, expressive eyes and Hephaistion smiled.
“Always, my king. I will always stand by your side.”
And as the horses of the sun headed back to Olympus, so Alexander slept in the arms of his beloved and found peace in the midst of war.
And here is a wallpaper I made of Paris and Legolas based on a quote from The Iliad.
