What Price Fury

Title: What Price Fury
Rating: PG for now.
Fandom: Stones movie
Summery: Not For the first time in their relationship Hephaistion is a victim of Alexander’s wrathful temper. Mitigating issues play a part weakening the faithful General’s defenses causing him to retaliate and havoc ensues before the two can reunite. I can’t help but feel as though these two had there fair share of brawls. Egos aside…besides Hephaistion’s got other things on his mind.
Genre: Anger and angst and reconciliation
Reviews: Please send advice to rothalion@hotmail.com and thanks!
Disclaimer: Mr. Stone for this one, he brought them to life so we can torment them! Not purely movie driven I tweaked it a bit.


Thanks: To everyone who awaits updates to this tale and all who provide encouragement. Once again I thought that this chapter would lean toward a conclusion but it seems instead to have opened up the thing to more stuff…we’ll just have to see where it goes. Do not despair. Leave that to me…. This is a bit of reflection for Hephaistion and me as well. It will probably be boring for you guys but since it wrote itself this way I guess Hephaistion needed to sort it out.

Chapter 7


Alexander had been correct. Hephaistion saw nothing of him before the day of the wedding. To keep his mind off the coming ceremony Hephaistion went hunting and tried to keep himself as far from the other companions as possible. The last thing he desired was to be harassed by them about being again cast aside for foreigner, a spoil of war. He knew too that once Alexander announced his decision to take him as his best man the group would fall upon him like hungry wolves. The short hunt and time in the sunshine and fresh air buoyed his spirits slightly. Just getting out with his horse and dogs, alone and far from bustling cheer of the camp put his mind at ease a bit. Hephaistion returned late, after dark on the eve of the wedding. He handed his horse off to his groom and headed discreetly back to his rooms. Milos was anxiously awaiting him and was ecstatic to see him.

“By the gods my lord you have returned to me!” He squealed and threw himself into Hephaistion’s arms. “Leo said you would but Hephaistion I was not so certain!”

Hephaistion pushed the crying boy away a bit and grasped his shoulders. Stunned by the greeting he stared into Milos’ brown eyes. “Returned! You thought that I might not?”

“Yes, Hephaistion. I thought that you might just ride away from us. Seek a new life. Away from…away from…I apologize for my forward thinking lord. It’s just that with all that has happened. I would not have blamed you Hephaistion.”

He released the boy and walked to his travel chest, where he set down his gear. Not return. What a strange idea he thought to himself. While he’d certainly considered driving his dagger into his own heart he never considered just riding away. To ride away, what an alien and frightening thought. Completely implausible as well. Nothing could drive him from Alexander, nothing. Yet Milos had worried about him doing just that. Milos a mere squire. Hephaistion couldn’t help but wonder if Alexander had thought of it and if he had just how had he responded to his concern?

He was dragged from his thoughts by Milos’ voice. “Hephaistion, they brought your clothes today, your clothes for the ceremony. I hung them there on the rack.” He pointed to the rack and the deep burgundy Persian outfit hanging on it. “Also, Alexander asked to be notified of you r return. Shall I go and tell him you have arrived?”

“No, Milos. He knows of my whereabouts I am certain. If you don’t mind though, I realize I seldom ask it of you, would you prepare me a bath?”

After his bath Hephaistion dismissed Milos, although he doubted the boy would go far, and stretched out on his couch with a cup of wine. While he’d ridden out under the pretense of hunting the fact was that he’d not hunted at all. He simply spent his days walking and relaxing and his nights sleeping under the stars. He’d written a long letter to Alexander with the intention of giving it to him that night but having reread it he decided against the plan. Antsy and not able to sleep Hephaistion draped a heavy robe around his shoulders, and with a symbol of his unreeling love and loyalty wrapped in a bit of softened fawn hide, went in search of Alexander.

As Hephaistion approached Alexander’s door the two guards on duty stepped aside. They knew that the young general had unlimited access to the king. After nodding at the two young men Hephaistion quietly slipped into the room. He was still undecided as to whether or not he would wake Alexander and present his token of love if his friend was already sleeping. With practiced ease he navigated his way down the steep stair way into the inner sleeping chamber. Three or four small candles twinkled a dim illumination across the space. They cast and unearthly amber glow that lent the room a muted and stifled aura. Shuddering at the flickering shadows tossed about the ancient timber walls he continued forward. He had no love for this particular set of rooms, they were dim and suffocating, cave like nearly tomblike if he really considered them. Hephaistion preferred open space, a window no matter how small and a view of the sky. The size of his room mattered not, only that he could see the sky. Alexander had told him on many occasions, as Hephaistion lay in his arms listening to thrum of the kings heart that the reason his eyes were so blue was because, by staring into the great vastness of the sky for so long and so intently he’d managed to actually drain the brilliant azure from the heavens themselves and make that color uniquely his. There was in fact only a singular aspect of the tomblike room that Hephaistion thought worthy of notice. It was virtually impregnable. When Alexander was safe Hephaistion was happy, so he’d pushed aside his dislike of the place and joined Alexander there whenever he was beckoned to.

Hephaistion rounded the corner that led into the sleeping area itself; what he witnessed halted his movement. On the huge bed Alexander was roughly tumbling Bagoas with no amount of love or care. He sighed at the sight thinking to himself, ‘When will I ever learn my place.’ As he watched, Alexander arched his back and with a lion’s groan came. He then rolled off of the eunuch and onto his back; legs and arms splayed wide as the molasses like fatigue of orgasm drained his body. ‘Well I guess that’s something,’ Hephaistion thought, ‘at least he doesn’t simply just roll away from me.’ The childish pettiness of the remark rankled Hephaistion. Was he indeed so inferior that he would allow himself to grasp hold of such a simple pleasure as relishing the embrace of the man he loved after coupling and turn it instead into a weapon armed with bitter resentment?

Realizing that with the presence of Bagoas his visit was in vain he turned to leave, but the sound of Alexander’s voice stilled him, he stepped deeper into the shadow and listened.

“Ah, Bagoas. By the gods, I should be with him tonight!” Alexander sighed and draped his left arm across his forehead. “I cannot though, if I did I wouldn’t be able to do this god forsaken thing tomorrow. The feel of him, the smell of him, the taste of his flesh on my tongue, the very sight of him. Then, Bagoas, to see sorrow cloud the beauty of his eyes like storm clouds blotting out the skies brilliant blueness; because of the knowledge of what I will do to him tomorrow. No to witness that would shatter my resolve just as I shattered the walls of Tyre.

Bagoas said nothing. The boy left the bed, donned a robe and scurried off to retrieve moist, warm towels to cleanse his king. He went about the task of ridding Alexander of the evidence of his weakness with a determined purposefulness and when finished Alexander rose and sat cross legged on the expansive bed. Bagoas, familiar with his lord’s needs, poured a cup of wine and placed it in Alexander’s trembling hands. Alexander sipped from the cup and sighed again. His hair was mussed but he pushed Bagoas’ hand’s brusquely away when the eunuch tried to brush it. The boy placed the ivory brush on the bed side table a sat down cross legged at Alexander’s feet alert and ready to listen.

“We have been so at odds with one another these last many weeks. The bitter dregs of duty and death and misunderstanding. I fear that he is ready to bolt from me, like a colt skittish and anxious, wanting to take the apple from my hand yet…Do you realize Bagoas the depth of my relief as I watched him ride back into the camp this evening. I cried Bagoas, I cried.”

A sap filled log popped in the brazier and all three men startled. Hephaistion stifled his hiss at the unexpected sound and Bagoas and Alexander cast sideways glances at each other as if to say ‘You did not see me flinch.’ Like a cat that’s tripped over its own feet or fallen and landed on its belly and not its paws. To hide his tiny fright Alexander handed his cup to Bagoas in request of a refill. Once the boy had taken the gold container Alexander stood, wrapped himself in a soft yet heavy fur robe and began to pace.

“Have you ever loved someone or something Bagoas? Understand me boy? Loved in such a way that the fear or the threat of losing it or them crushes your heart like one would crush over- ripe grapes, and it steals the very air from your lungs like the fires fueled in the vile and wicked furnace wrought by naphtha? Have you boy?”

He took the cup from Bagoas’ hand and watched as the eunuch straightened and freshened the tosseled bed covers, rearranging the many pillows the way that Alexander liked them. He even took the time to set some silky pillows the way Hephaistion liked them as well. The general might not like him but Bagoas had always made sure to note what the young general liked.

“That is Hephaistion and I. We scald one another and blister each others souls with this love, a love that is indescribable to mere mortals such as yourself.” At that Bagoas paused in his pillow shuffling and studied his king’s countenance. “But lately, lately we feud and fight and crush each other out of anger and reprisal and misunderstanding! God forsaken duty that rends my soul in two and uses the bits and shards of it to erect a bitter siege wall between us.”

Bagoas, now finished with the bed, took the cup again from Alexander and refilled it. The king had once again sat down on the edge of the bed, hunkered down inside his heavy robe.

“I wish, I wish that I could…it’s like this robe Bagoas. This robe of bear skin. Just being able to wrap myself in it will not make of me a great bear. Beneath its weight I am still just a man. The same is true for kingship boy, do not let my foolishness mislead you. Though I cloak myself in its husk, the empty shell of being king, it is not truly what I am. Yet by Zeus, though I try, I have yet to find a way to peel this skin off! To separate it from my own flesh! I fear no man, Bagoas! But I am terrified to peel away that layer that makes me great. I fear being left naked and flayed alive, stripped of my glory, just waiting for the sun to bleach my bones and the winds to bury me beneath the shifting sands. Forgotten.” He stood, walked a few paces and sat down heavily again. “Why do I fear it Bagoas, being just a man? Being just Alexander lover of Hephaistion. Alexander beloved of Hephaistion. Afraid of being just…‘an ordinary man’? You know that he would do it Bagoas. He would, my Hephaistion, skin himself alive and lend me his skin if it could free me of this yoke that fate has set upon my shoulders, if only it would irrevocably weave us into a single soul. Have you any clue boy how much I love him? Do you dear Bagoas?”

They sat in silence for a time. Hephaistion was certain that the pounding of his heart would be heard in the complete silence of the tomblike space. He wanted to flee, he wanted to rush to Alexander, he wanted to scream out his contempt for being set aside on this night of all nights yet…He ground his fists into his eye sockets to halt the tears that sought release. He chewed a hole in his lip to stifle his cries of love and need and desire. His great chest heaved as his lungs tried to suck in enough air to ease the crushing weight that threatened to flatten his chest and squeeze his heart like a ripe orange. As he was about to drop to his knees Bagoas’ voice brought him back to reason.


“My King, these are good and true words that you speak, but they are filling into the wrong ears.” The boy looked down and studied the floor abashed at having spoken so plainly. He began tracing the grain of the aged and laquer shiny timbers with his long, lithe finger tips to conceal his fright. Hephaistion wondered if the boy traced Alexander’s flesh in a similar way. He wondered what secrets the grain of the footstep smoothed and shiny floor could tell, and what secrets he might rend from the Persian eunuch’s nimble fingers if he ever had the chance to toy a bit with Alexander’s dark haired Persian pet. Yes, the little kohl eyed beauty would tell him all as he wrenched, one at a time, his manicured nails from his long, nimble, erotic fingertips. His loins grew warm and hard at the thought of such fun and Hephaistion resisted forcing the feeling aside. More and more it seemed it was violence that sent him spiraling into that vast chasm called desire. So be it. If love and gentleness returned him naught but disregard, disdain, betrayal and loneliness then he’d seek his solace elsewhere.