Title: Taming Wolves

Author: Rothalion

Summery: Movie verse for the pinky thing. Alexander exacts a harsh punishment after infighting threatens to cause a rift in his chain of command. These guys were always vying for position I think things had to get physical now and again. So here goes this…

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: I don't own them.

Reviews are always appreciated. I can't improve without them. Thanks

"You're late Phaistion!" Alexander bellowed jovially, lounging back in his chair his feet up on the table. "Come, join us! Boy, wine for Hephaistion. Looks as though he's had himself a day!"

Join them; that was the last thing he wanted to do but protocol required it. Phaistion, by the gods what was the man thinking? Phaistion in front of the companions. He didn't need this aggravation just now. He only needed sleep and a surgeon, better yet a surgeon then sleep. Today had been his first 'true' command, paired with Cleitus to see how the two would meld. Also, he knew, to see how he would handle a command during battle. He was exhausted, his head was pounding, the group was already into the wine and Hephaistion grimaced at the thought. The tardy General glared at his king and made his way to his normal seat on Alexander's right. He forced his irritation into submission when he found Cleitus sitting in it. The gritty, older general looked up at him lazily, with an insipidly smug smirk on his face. Hephaistion leered back at the man, walked around the table and begrudgingly took a seat directly across the table on Alexander's left. Cleitus tipped his chair back, ogled the retreating man's ass and whistled. He waited until Hephaistion was seated then began to giggle. The Cleitus giggle they called it, scathing and insulting it was a hated sound to Hephaistion's ears. He'd endured it often enough.

"Nice ass pup." Snickers rounded the table and Hephaistion glared at the big man as he leaned forward placing his elbows on the table and his aching head in his hands. "What kept you boy? You stop to give thanks to the gods that you didn't loose that pretty little ass of yours out there today? Well…what's your tale Pup? Or should I ask…where? 'Tween your lovely muscled thighs?" He finished, leaning a little to his right and peering under the table. "Oh no, wait. I think I hear it swishing in anger!" Then he leaned left and whispered to Alexander just loud enough to be heard. "By the gods man you are truly blessed. The finest army in the land and…" he gestured approvingly at Hephaistion, "the finest…ass. Tell me is he…"

"Clei…" Alexander began.

"Piss off Cleitus!" Hephaistion snarled interrupting him, then he turned to Alexander, his voice softer and informative. "Seeing to my men Alexander. Men come first. No?" His eyes met Cleitus' again as he took the cup of wine offered to him by Ptolemy.

Alexander and the others were a bit taken back by Hephaistion's retort.

"Piss off! Piss off? Piss off." Cleitus mimicked. He leaned back, put his feet up on the table, clasped his hands together and tapped his pinkies against one another toying sarcastically with the phrase before bursting into raucous laughter. "Piss…off!" He swirled his eyes as though pondering the command.

"You left me to die today 'General' Cleitus. 'You' were late. You had my right. You did not show." Hephaistion scolded the man, pointing two newly crushed and broken fingers in the man's face. "You, by order of your king had my flank and you tarried. What…were you afraid?"

The men around the table gasped collectively and then laughed nervously at Hephaistion's sudden boldness. Even Alexander laughed at Hephaistion's words and the slight was not left unnoticed by the young battered general who shot him an angry sideways glare. Battered, that described Hephaistion well just then. His right eye was swollen closed and besides the badly, bent and broken fingers on his sword hand he sported a long sword slash down his right thigh. It still bled a bit and he reeked of blood and mud. He'd removed his armor and gone straight to the council tent without washing or seeing the surgeons. The others had cleaned up a bit.

"To die! To die?" Cleitus hollered throwing his feet back down and leaning across the table, getting right into Hephaistion's face. "To die? No pup I only gave you room to prove your worth, I only set out to wean a pup from the tit. Are you weaned now puppy? Are you no longer the sad whelp of your king hiding behind his skirts? Weaned, my friend, weaned." Then with a dark and serious tone, "You should be thanking me boy!"

"Thanking you, you sad old bastard! The game you played cost me five "good" men! Game! Cleitus if you wish to wean the pup then wean the pup and leave my men out of it! I am 'right here'!" He leaned forward and thumped his chest with a bloody fist.

"Ah, so bold my pretty Hephaistion, so bold. If they were good they'd not be dead! Wean the pup. Yes! That was the game! If I'm to share a command someday with your pretty ass then I'm gonna be damned sure that mine is covered!"

"It's covered Cleitus." Hephaistion sipped his wine and began softly, tiredly, with aloof indignation. "By the thick, black, thistle ridden, hoary hair of a neutered goat!" he finished just inches from Cleitus' bearded face spit showering the man.

Cleitus slammed back the remainder of his wine, reached out for the server to refill his cup and leaned back across the table, even closer to Hephaistion, rage now flaring black and menacingly in his eyes. "You bastard of a boy! Yes, weaned! That's what I did, dragged you into the real world. You say you lost men! Lost Men! How many boy? Two. Four. Six a dozen. 'You' lost men! All leaders loose men boy!" He reached across the table and flipped a bit of Hephaistion's blood matted, long hair back. "Cut that rats nest off puppy and then, and then maybe you'd be able to think more like a man and less like a coddled woman. You held today puppy! You showed your worth…Quit your bitchin'." He stopped and cackled wickedly. The compliment barely away from his lips before he continued. "Your worth? Phah!" He waved his hand dismissively at Hephaistion. "What'd you do 'Phai', offer that fair ass of yours to the Persians and beg to be allowed to retreat?"

"Gentlemen." Alexander tried to intercede. "Have some wine the day was ours, enjoy the night." Cleitus was starting to sound too much like a drunk Philip and Alexander didn't need that in his council tent.

"He cost…cost me men Alexander. He disobeyed you. He…" He did not wish to complain and would not have had he not been forced to state his case. He was just too tired and the words slipped from his mouth.

"Shut your whining trap you little prick! So! You lost men, did you? No stomach for it Hephaistion? Come now, remind me what is it? General? General Hephaistion." He squinted at Alexander looking for verification of Hephaistion's rank. Alexander looked at him and started to reply.

"Yes Cleitus Gen…"

"Ah, and thanks my king, General. Now about the little prick part? Would you care to…"

"Cleitus tread lightly now man, funs fun but…" Alexander cautioned.

" And who says I'm in it for 'fun'! Every man sitting here lost men! And before it's over we'll all loose a lot more! You've sheltered him my little king and now you wish to lose him amongst us. We've a right to know his merit! Ruined a good man you have. A pity if you ask me." He spat on the floor and motioned for more wine.

" Many lost men but 'not', because his secondary didn't show. Not because his secondary wanted to have a bit of sport you bearded sows ass!"

"Ah… I'm a hoary goat hair haired covered sows ass. How you do love your stable yard beasts Hephaistion. Here's one for you, it'd make Homer proud; a what do you call it..a meta…something…Hephaistion. Men are like javelins boy, you throw them at the enemy not knowing if you'll ever see them again! Grow…up! By the gods boy grow up!" He tossed back a mouthful of wine and slammed the cup down on the table splattering the remainder everywhere. Hephaistion recoiled from the splash. The tent was cloaked in silence for a long still moment. Then Cleitus started in again.

"Lost men! Maybe then, you should stick to your scrolls and flutes and your tales of Troy, and the Sacred Band. It's his doing, your King's." He pointed at Alexander who sat up straight at the remark. "He's filled your head with tales of glory and greatness but not the gore that comes with it. Knowing is one thing Hephaistion. Swimming in the guts of a hundred men is another! You've no stomach for it lad, none! I've always known it. You've a good mind but no stomach." He sneered across the table at the exhausted younger man. Alexander knew Cleitus well and could tell that he was working up to some final caustic comment that would unleash the fury burning in Hephaistion's eyes. If anyone could play a man's emotions Cleitus could. He was a master. "You held today but what of tomorrow now that you've given rights to your….yes 'your' dead. Get your head out of the cloud of Achilles you hide it in Hephaistion! You're no more meant for the battle field than that Persian pleasure toy Bagoas! You Hephaistion, or should I say Patroclus, have less …balls…than…that kohl eyed weasel does! At least he fought for the kings bed!"

"Cleitus! Silence! I'll not…." Alexander's reprimand was cut short.

Hephaistion launched himself forward and over the table slamming head first into Cleitus' chest. The power of the unexpected blow drove Cleitus and his chair backwards with Hephaistion riding on top of him. They skidded to a halt after crashing through the tent wall. The others rushed outside and Alexander started forward to separate the two entwined men, Parminion halted him.

"Alexander let them go. It been brewing for a while now, like to lions in the same clan let them go."

"Cleitus will kill him."

The remark surprised and angered the younger men of the group, Nearchus spoke up voicing his disdain for the comment.

"See, Alexander! Cleitus spoke true! You do coddle him. Have more faith in his heart, in his strength. He would trust in yours! He never doubts 'you'!" So Alexander was forced to stand and watch the ensuing battle.

The war waged bitterly both ways. Hephaistion was quicker and more agile but Cleitus who was bigger and heavier pounded the younger man like a siege engine. Murderously pummeling him with fists hardened by years of battle, fists the size of Hephaistion's head. Hephaistion ducked and parried but the blows still struck home and when they did Hephaistion staggered beneath them.

Alexander surged forward again when Cleitus wrestled Hephaistion into a two handed choke hold and began to force him down onto his knees. Again Parminion stopped him. Alexander pleaded with his eyes for release.

"You can't, my friend, his honor's at stake here more so than his life, be still."

"Parminion he's blue…"

"Leave them Alexander!"

Then in an extraordinary effort Hephaistion brought his arms upwards and between Cleitus' smashing into the generals nose and then driving them outward forcing the clinching hands from his throat. He stumbled and staggered back a step then drove forward as Cleitus tried to shake off the pain of his now broken nose. Hephaistion tackled the stunned man only to have his hold again reversed and have his ribs viciously crushed by Cleitus' knee for the effort. Still he fought back. Hephaistion didn't feel it when Cleitus bit off his left ear lobe, he didn't feel his nose break, he didn't feel his ribs crack, and he didn't feel it when Cleitus pinned him and with a wicked twist and jerk dislocated his left shoulder. What he did feel was a self rightous fury that surged through him like a bolt of lightening. He was beyond pain, beyond thought, beyond any rational sense of reality, his world had been reduced to a singular objective, defeat Cleitus. He never saw or felt the punch that drove him down to the hardened ground like a sack of cast aside grain. In an instant his world went black and his head vibrated from the shock of the roundhouse that Cleitus had connected with. Cleitus, seeing Hephaistion lying so still in the dirt, thought the young man to be finished and turned to walk away, breaking the one rule every warrior knows, 'never turn your back on an enemy'. He made it all of ten paces before Hephaistion, after staggering to his feet, ran forward and slammed into his lower back, again head first, driving the big General forward and straight down. In his exhaustion Cleitus hit face first smashing his nose and with the wind knocked out of his lungs he stayed down unmoving. Hephaistion did not hesitate, he dropped to his knees, straddling Cleitus' waist and with his left arm dangling useless at his side he drove his right elbow into the back of Cleitus' head just at the base of the bigger man's skull, Cleitus twitched once and went still.

The crowd roared, many of the gathered men were in Hephaistion's command and they saw the victory as retribution for the days events. Hephaistion couldn't hear them. He hefted his right leg over Cleitus' waist and sat legs splayed wide, hunched over at the waist blind, and half deafened by the blows to his head. He bled from his nose, he bled from his mouth, he bled. Tears fell from his swollen eyes but he was as unaware of them as anything else around him. Before Alexander could reach him he tipped over to his right into the blood soaked sand unconscious at last.

Alexander stood over the two fallen generals he was both proud and disgusted. Hephaistion had done well but the thought of such petty fighting, was it petty? Yes he decided it was, and such petty infighting sickened him. They were an army and egos needed to be controlled, set aside for the bigger, greater cause. In that instant he decided that never again would two of his generals fight like this, never again and the penalty of death would bind them if they did. Then, to make his decision know and believed, he did the unspeakable.

"Take these two egotistical fools to the stocks. When they come around send for me." Then he switched to his battle voice so all could hear. "This is a pathetic affair and will not be repeated. We are one. One corps, one body and I will not tolerate infighting at any, I repeat any level. Twenty lashes each when they come around, Parminion and Craterus will exact the punishment."