Title: The Order

Author: Baliansword

Rating: PG-13 to Mature Audiences

Chapter: 3 of 3, "Reluctance"

Summary: After Hephaestion falls in battle Alexander begins to question his campaign –or whether Hephaestion should be there at all.

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How many times had he wondered when this day would come, the day that Alexander would take the obligation of king first and foremost? It should not have surprised him, but for some reason it still did. The shock had set in early, but it still lingered. His heart still skipped a few beats now and then, and when he had stopped crying last night burns scourged his cheeks. Somewhere, deep down, he had known all along that it would end in this way. It would end in death.

As he lifted the saddlebag it felt heavier than it had before, as if a hundred rocks had been placed at the bottom. Pushing the thought aside he placed his breastplate on the bed, it belonged to Alexander now, and turned to leave. As he did, the king himself stepped through the tent, blocking his entrance. Hephaestion said nothing. He remained standing, purposefully pushing his shoulders back and resolving to keep his head held high. Alexander did not speak, but he made no attempt to mask his pain. Hephaestion had seen him stand before him as he did now only once, just after the death of his father.

"I don't want you to go," Alexander whispered quietly, his arms hanging at his sides, as if unsure if he was still welcome in Hephaestion's arms. Hephaestion said nothing, for what was he to say? If he remained this would only happen again, somewhere far down the road. Alexander would always worry for him, but didn't he know that every waking moment he longed to protect him as well?

"Well," Hephaestion said, using the most diplomatic voice he could find, the one he used to arrange peace talks in Egypt. "I can't be here, and in Alexandria, at the same time, can I? I'm following orders, my King."

"Hephaestion," he pleaded as his companion went to step past him. He reached out, knowing his touch would be unwelcome, but barred Hephaestion's exit none the same. Hephaestion froze at the touch upon his forearm, and slowly he directed his eyes to meet Alexander's. Alexander noted his pain, and knowing that he had been the cause troubled him all the more.

"Then I order you not to leave." Hephaestion shifted, pulling away from his grasp. Yet he had not run away, not yet, so perhaps he was making progress. On the other hand perhaps nothing was going to change, not now, not after demeaning Hephaestion in an unimaginable way.

"I resigned."

"It was dully noted," Alexander answered. It had been, as well. Not until much later did he realize that Hephaestion had truly mentioned leaving, and meant it. It was not until the pendant burned in his hand. Only then did he realize how reluctant Hephaestion was to stay. But he went on, "Hephaestion, you cannot fault me for loving you."

Cerulean eyes stared back at him, unsure on his intent for a moment. Slowly Hephaestion's features softened, and he placed his palm against Alexander's cheek. Alexander leaned in, needing his touch more than he had before. Hesitantly, Hephaestion leaned in and placed a soft kiss against his companion's forehead. He then pulled away, pain returning across his face, blurring his soulful eyes. Had he truly lost him so easily, Alexander asked. Not even had he lost him, but had he been foolish enough to be the cause of the loss?

"I have to go," Hephaestion whispered. "We both know that you cannot accept my being here. You fear too much, Alexander. How can I ever be your general if you will not let me do the things that you would require Ptolemy to do, Cassander, Cleitus. Where I king, and you were my general, and I told you not to fight –how would you react? I know you Alexander, sometimes better than you know yourself. You would throw a fit, call me a fool, resign, and build up your own campaign. Don't worry, I'm not amassing a new regiment. I'm just giving you the space that you need, for as long as you call for it."

"You don't understand," he began, but for the first time Hephaestion cut him off, speaking before he could interrupt him.

"You did not give me the opportunity to understand. Instead, you hid from me, denied me, outcast me from all that I have ever known. Alexander, there is no mending all that you have done. Some wrongs can be fixed."

With that Hephaestion brushed past Alexander, this time not fretting over the hand that reached out to catch him. He pulled the canvas bag over his shoulder and strode to his horse. As he did so he noticed that a few of the generals had gathered, and though they tried to act as if they were involved in conversation, it was clear that they had come to see his exit. Ptolemy tilted his head toward him, his eyes saddened. Hephaestion responded with a soft, yet depressive, grin as he slung the bag over the horse, then pulled himself up. Turning the horse, he watched as Alexander continued to follow him, clearly not admitting defeat just yet.

"I only cared for you," Alexander stated, placing his hand on the steed's neck, holding the rein so Hephaestion could not turn him further away. His voice was lowered, but Hephaestion knew well enough that he would eventually elevate it, not caring what others thought about their relationship. Cassander, on more than one occasion, had assured them both that there was no sense hiding something that everyone else already knew. Leaning forward, he replied.

"I let him win," he admitted quietly, striking Alexander without touching him. "Sometimes, you have to admit your own defeat in order to save your opponent's pride. Don't you see, Alexander? If that boy continued to lose, and lose, his confidence would be nothing, and he would surely fall in battle. Show him that he can best his opponent, and then, then you are training a soldier."

"Don't go."

"I vowed never to leave you, but I also vowed to always do what you asked of me," he reminded him. He gave him a soft, saddened smile. "I am unable to lie to you, I don't want to go, but I don't want to be your burden either."

"Get off the horse."

"I can't."

"Here," Alexander said, taking his own pendant from around his neck, ripping the cord as he pulled it off in haste. It was a Macedonian seal, which showed that he was king. There was not another like it, and as Hephaestion traveled home he would easily be able to go through any of his territories, without problems. However, this was not truly why he gave it to him. He too was Alexander. He then walked away.

"Alexander," Hephaestion called out. "Alexander take it back."

"It belongs to you," he tossed over his shoulder, casually entering his own tent as Hephaestion followed on horseback. He threw himself onto his fur covered pallet and waited until Hephaestion entered. Hephaestion set the pendant on the nearest desk, and again tried to depart.

"Hephaestion," Alexander said, sitting up, placing his hands on his knees. "Sit down, just for a moment." When he did he continued. "I have made a terrible mistake, as a king, a friend, a lover. You see, I had a general that every leader dreams of. He organized things I could not even plan myself, kept morale up, taught his soldiers, kept them from harm, arrange treaties and peace talks, he kept everything in line. But, he went beyond that, because he believed in me. He believed in not only my campaign, when others never would, but in me –in me. He loved me, Hephaestion. But, I am my own demise. I let him go, I ordered him to go. I didn't mean it, you see, I fell in love with him, more than anyone has ever loved. I only meant to protect him. Instead, I smothered him. What would you advise me to do, friend? From now on, I am not a king before you."

"And you refuse to let him go?"

"Without him I am nothing."

"Then perhaps you should ask him to stay," Hephaestion replied, a single tear sliding down his cheek. Alexander leaned forward, brushing the teardrop away. He then gently pressed his lips to his forehead, moving slowly to the corners of his eyes, his cheeks, the tip of his nose, his chin, and then he brushed against his lips, barely touching him at all.

"Stay," he asked.

"Forever," Hephaestion whispered before he pressed his lips to Alexander. And with a kiss, the fate of an empire was sealed.

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A/N: And, the end. Aww, kind of short, but sweet. I'm working on an epic right now. The first chapter is going to be this entire theme, but it will then move on to actual conflicts where we see Hephaestion's work as a general, Alexander's as a king, and how they work together, etc.

As always, thank you so much to all of my readers, and all of my reviewers.

Baliansword

1-10-2008