t h e . b r i d l e . a n d . t h e . r u d d e r . t o o

The Bridle and the Rudder, Too
[by victoria p.]

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Hephaistion has become good at being whatever Alexander wants him to be, whenever he wants him to be it.

Notes: For my dearest Devil Doll's birthday. Thanks to Bethy and Mousapelli for looking it over. Title from Sophocles, via Plutarch. (And yes, I know it was in reference to Aristotle, not Hephaistion.) Inspired by Christina Rossetti's "A Birthday."

Date: May 19, 2005

Hephaistion lay awake, waiting. He knew he should sleep -- they would rise with the sun to march against the Maidoi, but he was sure Alexander would come to him, and he worried that Alexander wouldn't wake him if he was asleep when the prince arrived.

It was more difficult to find time together here in Pella, under Olympias' watchful eye, though they managed. In this, Hephaistion's ingenuity surpassed even Alexander's. He had made himself indispensable to Alexander, and at the same time determined Alexander should never go without anything he needed. Thus, he had become good at being whatever Alexander wanted him to be, whenever he wanted him to be it.

Still, he was drifting between sleep and waking when Alexander appeared in the doorway.

"Hephaistion?" Alexander called softly, and Hephaistion knew he'd been right. Had he not been awake, Alexander would have left him to sleep.

"I'm here," he answered, as he always did.

Alexander tilted his head in that way he had, and said, "Come."

Hephaistion threw back the blankets and padded across the floor, following him into the inner room, skin prickling with awareness, heart already divining what Alexander wanted of him tonight.

The lamp burned low, and Alexander's skin was honey gold in its soft glow. He undressed and neatly folded his chiton before turning to Hephaistion, one hand cupping his cheek. Hephaistion turned his face to kiss the palm, sword calluses rough against his lips.

Alexander smiled sweetly. "Come," he said again, indicating the bed and then snuffing the lamp.

Hephaistion lay down and Alexander slipped in beside him, warm even in the cool night air, shining brightly even in the darkness. Hephaistion basked in his light.

"I had to say goodbye to Phoinix," Alexander said. "And to Mother, as well. She worries, you know."

"Of course," Hephaistion said, striving to keep his tone light. The sharp scent of the incense Olympias favored clung to Alexander's hair, making Hephaistion's nose itch, but he bore it in silence.

He had never spoken against her; it would not have been honorable, even though he knew she railed against him at every opportunity. Alexander had never hidden her animosity toward him, though he did try to protect Hephaistion from her. Hephaistion had sworn to himself he would never ask Alexander to choose between them -- if he did, even in the winning, he would lose all. Alexander did not like to be doubted, so Hephaistion kept his fears to himself.

Alexander curled up against him and Hephaistion's body stirred, but he had learned quickly that Alexander preferred talk to love before going on campaign. He tried to will his hungry body into quiescence; even if he'd thought to spend himself earlier, Alexander's proximity would have inspired him again.

Alexander deigned not to notice. He spoke of the plans he'd made, his voice low and warm, the words tumbling over each other in his excitement. Hephaistion responded at the appropriate times, mind drifting toward sleep from the familiar drone.

But Alexander couldn't seem to relax; he was taut as a bowstring, and Hephaistion knew he must get some sleep, despite his disdain for it. And he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep himself if Alexander remained restless.

Slowly, with warm hands and soft kisses, Hephaistion attempted to ease his prince, until Alexander turned to face him. They thrust together, Hephaistion's heat in this easily matching Alexander's fire. Alexander was beautiful like this, back arched and hips flexing, eyes wide and dark before they fluttered closed.

Hephaistion felt, as always, a fierce triumph as Alexander came undone, that only he had done this, had been given the right to do this. It mingled with the pleasure radiating through him as he shuddered to his own release, his mouth open and pressed to the sweat-damp skin of Alexander's neck, the only air he wished to breathe.

Hephaistion kissed and petted him, to keep the after-sadness away. "Sleep now," he murmured gently, cleaning them both with the sheet and then pushing it aside.

"One can do without sleep," Alexander said. "We march at dawn, and there is so much to be done."

"One can," Hephaistion replied, brushing back Alexander's hair, bright even in the darkness, "but there's a difference between what one can do, and what one must." Before Alexander could respond he continued, "It is not necessary now, to do without sleep."

Alexander smiled then, and rested his head on Hephaistion's shoulder, eyes closed. Hephaistion considered that a victory, and for the few hours they slept, his dreams were sweet.

end

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Disclaimer: This version of these characters is based on Mary Renault’s Fire from Heaven. This piece of fan-written fiction intends no infringement on any copyrights.