Fic: Ordained
Title: Ordained
Summary: Fighting over the shadow of his mother, Alexander forced himself to hold sway against Hephaestion. A/H, A/Olympias
Rated: PG13 for incest and slash
AN: Thanks, bunnytggr for the plotbunny and the great beta!
Down the verdant valley was an open field of grass. Its stretched, needle-like shoots swayed gently, adhering to whither the wind blew. The tender, warm breeze and the lucid blue of the sky should have been able to sooth anybody who swam in them into slumber. Yet a pair of pale blue eyes would not yield to the calming wiles of nature. Those eyes weren’t looking at this tranquil scene, but instead into faraway places, other times.
“Come on, Alexander.” A damp smack of lips landed on one of his cheeks. “Don’t turn away.” This time a tongue slid out and tasted the other cheek. Alexander shut his eyes, squeezing them tightly. “You know I love you. More than anything. Anyone.”
The lad of fifteen summers wiped at the trickling tears on both cheeks quietly, taking a deep, ragged breath. The tears had been shed earlier, and many times before besides. It astonished Alexander that he was still capable of crying, knowing that it was the very thing that aggravated someone who claimed to love him above all.
He could feel how tears seeped through his closed eyes, and the next thing he knew was a searing pain across his face.
“Stop it!” Snarled the woman above him. “I didn’t give birth to a ninny! You should’ve been grateful to be loved by me, given that your father, that pig, forced me to have you!”
Alexander’s eyes snapped open, hand flying to where his mother had just slapped him. Hard. He stared, uncomprehending, at her. His blond hair got tangled and a clump of it went disarray over his eye. Olympias blanched as if consciousness had just seeped into her. She froze before reaching out to her son.
“Alexander,” her voice was almost timid. “What have I done? Forgive me, o forgive me!”
But Alexander rolled away from his mother a moment before she got the chance to grab him into her rough embrace.
“No, don’t touch!” He shook hard. “Leave me. Leave!”
But it was him who left, and he knew he would return again later. The woman would never release him. Alexander was the only one she had. She loved him too much to let him go.
Tears on his cheeks had withered but the streaks still stained his downy complexion.
“Alexander?” A hesitant voice almost made him jump up.
“Hephaestion!” He scowled. “What are you doing following me here?”
The other teenaged lad had noticed how distraught Alexander was since the wrestling match. He was still baffled at Alexander’s submission.
“I wished to make sure you were alright, Your Majesty,” replied the brown-haired Macedonian quietly, not realizing that whatever his response was, it could sound like an insult to the short-tempered Alexander. The prince chuckled bitterly and rose with such a lithe and sudden movement that Hephaestion was almost knocked over, as he stood quite close.
“Do not call me that. You know I hate it when you’re formal with me,” Alexander grumbled, and closed his eyes briefly, the image of Olympias playing in his mind. When he opened his eyes again, they were dark with desire. So dark that Hephaestion was forced to shy away for the second time. “Royalty, am I? Majesty, am I?!”
With a cry Alexander closed the gap between them, seizing and cupping Hephaestion’s face in his hands. He captured the older boy’s lips in his. Kneading them mercilessly, until a sound was emitted from the back of Hephaestion’s throat. A yielding sound.
Yet, that was enough to send Alexander back to his right mind, and to make him retreat almost immediately.
Hephaestion’s lips seemed to want to chase those they had suddenly lost.
“Xander?” A whisper came out, questioningly. Hephaestion’s hand went up to stroke Alexander’s fair locks. ‘What is it? Why did you recoil?”
The prince could not lift his face to meet Hephaestion’s eyes. His arms hung limply at his sides.
“Why did you stop? Do you not love me?”
Alexander turned away, forcing Hephaestion to let go of his hair.
“I can’t…” his words trembled. “Phai, that was not me.”
A frown formed on the Macedonian’s brow. He caught Alexander’s upper arms and turned the boy to face him.
“What are you saying? Alexander, look at me.”
Resigned, Alexander sighed and looked up.
“I cannot make you kiss me or love me. That’s not me. I cannot force anybody to submit to me,” he said softly and slowly as if he was explaining to a five year old.
“Do I want you to force me?” Hephaestion’s curiosity was mounting. “Do I even need you to? Alexander, have you ever asked me what I want?”
Alexander shook his head. “No, no. It’s not about you. It’s about me. Me! And not about my mother either.” He was sobbing now, startling the other lad.
“Your mother…? Oh gods, Alexander.” Hephaestion moved forward and brought his lover into his embrace, pressing the blond-haired head into the crook of his neck. For several moments, both teenagers were drowning in their own minds, standing in the middle of the green meadow, one rocking slightly in his lament, the other rubbing his back.
Eventually feeling that Alexander had calmed down, Hephaestion stirred. He pulled back, hands still clutching the other’s arms. He fixed his eyes upon Alexander.
“You - your task is to lead your men to battle. Encouraging them. Lifting their spirit. And that is all. Because when we are by ourselves, you will let me lead you. Lead us. Will you allow me to? Alexander?”
Wearied by all that had come to pass, Alexander sighed softly. He knew he was capable. He would conquer the world and everyone would look up to him. Adore him. Yet, he could not do it alone. He needed someone, and that someone was standing before him now. Alexander realized he could trust Hephaestion to sustain him.
And he needed not be Olympias.
Very slowly, Alexander nodded. Yes, he would consent.
~ * ~ fin ~ * ~
Summary: Fighting over the shadow of his mother, Alexander forced himself to hold sway against Hephaestion. A/H, A/Olympias
Rated: PG13 for incest and slash
AN: Thanks, bunnytggr for the plotbunny and the great beta!
Down the verdant valley was an open field of grass. Its stretched, needle-like shoots swayed gently, adhering to whither the wind blew. The tender, warm breeze and the lucid blue of the sky should have been able to sooth anybody who swam in them into slumber. Yet a pair of pale blue eyes would not yield to the calming wiles of nature. Those eyes weren’t looking at this tranquil scene, but instead into faraway places, other times.
“Come on, Alexander.” A damp smack of lips landed on one of his cheeks. “Don’t turn away.” This time a tongue slid out and tasted the other cheek. Alexander shut his eyes, squeezing them tightly. “You know I love you. More than anything. Anyone.”
The lad of fifteen summers wiped at the trickling tears on both cheeks quietly, taking a deep, ragged breath. The tears had been shed earlier, and many times before besides. It astonished Alexander that he was still capable of crying, knowing that it was the very thing that aggravated someone who claimed to love him above all.
He could feel how tears seeped through his closed eyes, and the next thing he knew was a searing pain across his face.
“Stop it!” Snarled the woman above him. “I didn’t give birth to a ninny! You should’ve been grateful to be loved by me, given that your father, that pig, forced me to have you!”
Alexander’s eyes snapped open, hand flying to where his mother had just slapped him. Hard. He stared, uncomprehending, at her. His blond hair got tangled and a clump of it went disarray over his eye. Olympias blanched as if consciousness had just seeped into her. She froze before reaching out to her son.
“Alexander,” her voice was almost timid. “What have I done? Forgive me, o forgive me!”
But Alexander rolled away from his mother a moment before she got the chance to grab him into her rough embrace.
“No, don’t touch!” He shook hard. “Leave me. Leave!”
But it was him who left, and he knew he would return again later. The woman would never release him. Alexander was the only one she had. She loved him too much to let him go.
Tears on his cheeks had withered but the streaks still stained his downy complexion.
“Alexander?” A hesitant voice almost made him jump up.
“Hephaestion!” He scowled. “What are you doing following me here?”
The other teenaged lad had noticed how distraught Alexander was since the wrestling match. He was still baffled at Alexander’s submission.
“I wished to make sure you were alright, Your Majesty,” replied the brown-haired Macedonian quietly, not realizing that whatever his response was, it could sound like an insult to the short-tempered Alexander. The prince chuckled bitterly and rose with such a lithe and sudden movement that Hephaestion was almost knocked over, as he stood quite close.
“Do not call me that. You know I hate it when you’re formal with me,” Alexander grumbled, and closed his eyes briefly, the image of Olympias playing in his mind. When he opened his eyes again, they were dark with desire. So dark that Hephaestion was forced to shy away for the second time. “Royalty, am I? Majesty, am I?!”
With a cry Alexander closed the gap between them, seizing and cupping Hephaestion’s face in his hands. He captured the older boy’s lips in his. Kneading them mercilessly, until a sound was emitted from the back of Hephaestion’s throat. A yielding sound.
Yet, that was enough to send Alexander back to his right mind, and to make him retreat almost immediately.
Hephaestion’s lips seemed to want to chase those they had suddenly lost.
“Xander?” A whisper came out, questioningly. Hephaestion’s hand went up to stroke Alexander’s fair locks. ‘What is it? Why did you recoil?”
The prince could not lift his face to meet Hephaestion’s eyes. His arms hung limply at his sides.
“Why did you stop? Do you not love me?”
Alexander turned away, forcing Hephaestion to let go of his hair.
“I can’t…” his words trembled. “Phai, that was not me.”
A frown formed on the Macedonian’s brow. He caught Alexander’s upper arms and turned the boy to face him.
“What are you saying? Alexander, look at me.”
Resigned, Alexander sighed and looked up.
“I cannot make you kiss me or love me. That’s not me. I cannot force anybody to submit to me,” he said softly and slowly as if he was explaining to a five year old.
“Do I want you to force me?” Hephaestion’s curiosity was mounting. “Do I even need you to? Alexander, have you ever asked me what I want?”
Alexander shook his head. “No, no. It’s not about you. It’s about me. Me! And not about my mother either.” He was sobbing now, startling the other lad.
“Your mother…? Oh gods, Alexander.” Hephaestion moved forward and brought his lover into his embrace, pressing the blond-haired head into the crook of his neck. For several moments, both teenagers were drowning in their own minds, standing in the middle of the green meadow, one rocking slightly in his lament, the other rubbing his back.
Eventually feeling that Alexander had calmed down, Hephaestion stirred. He pulled back, hands still clutching the other’s arms. He fixed his eyes upon Alexander.
“You - your task is to lead your men to battle. Encouraging them. Lifting their spirit. And that is all. Because when we are by ourselves, you will let me lead you. Lead us. Will you allow me to? Alexander?”
Wearied by all that had come to pass, Alexander sighed softly. He knew he was capable. He would conquer the world and everyone would look up to him. Adore him. Yet, he could not do it alone. He needed someone, and that someone was standing before him now. Alexander realized he could trust Hephaestion to sustain him.
And he needed not be Olympias.
Very slowly, Alexander nodded. Yes, he would consent.
~ * ~ fin ~ * ~