Date: Mon, 25 Aug 2014 09:45:02 -0700
From: J M <ecclectic_soul@hotmail.com>
Subject: Alexander: The Beginning

A  L  E  X  A  N  D  E  R

THE BEGINNING



"If you want to be beautiful and good, throw away the rag you have on your
head and come to us. But you won't be able to, for you are ruled by
Hephaestion's thighs..."

-  Diogenes of Sinope


   I circled the training yard of the palaestra slowly, feeling the packed
sand warm and soft beneath my feet. Scraping pain had been biting the right
side of my lip where my face was shoved into the ground, but the adrenaline
coursing through my veins dulled it to a sparing ache. The gods were in
high spirits this day, unfolding a cloudless cerulean sky in honor of the
ensuing Olympic Games. Only the polite bustling of servants could be heard
from the sprawling halls of the gymnasium; the city's trumpets had beckoned
all of its citizens to bid farewell to our chosen competitors. An all-day
celebration would follow in the agora with drinking, dancing, and mock
games where men and women could win prizes. My father would surely scold me
later for not joining the other notable houses to witness the Olympic
procession, but I knew leaving the wrestling arena would not be
permitted. I pushed loose sepia curls off my glistening forehead and locked
my eyes on the young man who had persuaded me to dismiss duty.
   At seventeen years of age, the son of King Philip II matched me in both
height and build. He was dressed in a pleated chiton accented with woven
red snakes along its hemline-concealing surprise at how expertly his mother
insinuated her influence, I crouched lower and lightened my stance. His tan
arms and legs rippled with muscles trained in a decade's worth of combat
exercises, and his blonde hair shined in the noonday sun. But more
intimidating than his physical bearing was the mesmerizing depth of his
eyes. They were of two colors, one chestnut brown and the other as deeply
blue as the Aegean Sea. In some, this strange trait would seem a curse of
the gods but in the determined gaze of young Alexander, the two colors
seemed to melt together into a gleaming world of fertile land and sweeping
sea...as if the vastness of the earth had found refuge within his sight.
   Caught for but a moment in the landscape of Alexander's eyes, I barely
had time to react when the Macedonian heir suddenly feinted forward-left
before striking his right foot out behind me. Off-balance and about to
fall, I tried to roll away to the left to avoid a pinning grapple, but
Alexander's tan arms nimbly intercepted my escape. We wrestled along the
sandy earth, each of us trying to gain a top hold over the other. Finally
managing to grasp my wrists, the prince pushed the weight of his body up
onto his hands. Unable to roll my body, I struggled in vain to free my arms
or twist my legs so as to escape. It was of no use; his warm hands were
like weighted shackles. Thin veils of dust drifted in the sunlit silence as
I finally submitted, laughing softly. I felt oddly at ease despite the
loss, closing my eyes and letting my body relax into the sand.
   "You win, my Prince." I kept my eyes closed, trying to hide a smile-I
knew well how much he despised formality.
   Alexander growled under his breath. "What have I told you about calling
me that?"
   "Calling you what, my Prince?" I sputtered, unable to contain my
laughter.
   Finally opening my eyes, I saw him smiling down at me with an odd look
on his face. It was playful, but there was something else...something
different that I had never seen. Before I could ask him about it, he looked
away quickly and cleared his throat. Releasing my wrists and standing up,
he held out a hand for me. I grabbed it and stood up, dusting off my chiton
while shaking my head.
   "I promise that is the last time I let you beat me."
   "Careful when you make a promise, Hephaestion." Alexander put his arm
over my shoulder, grinning with a look that promised only mischief. "The
gods frown on those who fail to deliver."
   I shoved him away, both of us laughing loudly. A sharp, chiding voice
suddenly echoed across the training yard, halting the moment.
   "Alexander!"
   We both turned, watching as a familiar face floated out of the
darkness. It was impossible to forget those eyes, like jade daggers in
bouts of anger. They belonged to Olympias, Alexander's mother and the
king's fourth wife. However, all who encountered her knew better than to
assign her power to a number. She was classically beautiful, her features
imperial yet delicate. Her olive skin glittered in the sun, the ground
crystals of exotic lotions catching the light as she brushed auburn tresses
behind her shoulder. Striding across the rectangular arena, she sighed with
familiar exasperation.
   "Alexander, what are you doing here? You know the royal family is
expected at the procession." Olympias always seemed to whisper, even when
she was shouting. This rasping quality to her voice only served to fan the
local gossip that she could speak to snakes, a rumor I was sure she helped
spread. Turning to me, she smiled politely. "Hello, Hephaestion. No doubt
my son goaded you into abandoning the festivities as well?"
   I opened my mouth but stopped myself from responding when Alexander shot
me a warning look. Smiling sheepishly, I remained silent.
   "As I suspected," Olympias affirmed with a forgiving shrug.
   "Mother, no one will notice my absence." Alexander started stretching,
pretending to ignore the subject. Olympias glared at him in irritation.
   "Nonsense! A son of Zeus draws the eyes of lesser men even in the midst
of celebration. Hasn't Aristotle taught you the importance of political
necessity yet?" She shook her head impatiently as if to imply that such
subjects were elementary. "Regardless, you must learn when to be absent and
when to be present."
   "Father is already too drunk to remember any of the contestant's names
let alone my presence, and the crowds are too enamored with the spectacle
to give thought to my attendance." When Alexander looked up at the sky, I
could tell he desired an escape from what he knew he had to do. His voice
was lighter now, softened by a new smile. "And Aristotle told us to
appreciate each moment as if it was our last. I liked this one..."
   Glancing at him, I felt an odd shiver dance up my back. The intimate
tone of his voice struck a nameless chord within me, and suddenly I felt as
if a private encounter had been interrupted. Heat grew in my neck and
blossomed on my cheeks as my eyes darted away from him and found
Olympias. Her emerald gaze shifted from Alexander to me and then back
again. A peculiar expression painted her features, as if she was wrestling
with an amusing insight.
   Lightly clearing her throat, Olympias turned back toward the
portico. "Yes, and I believe your esteemed teacher also said that running
away from what troubles you is a form of cowardice...and you were born of
far greater mettle." She began walking toward the central hallway. "Now
come along, both of you! Let all men recall the grandeur of youth as they
look upon Achilles and Patroclus reborn!"

* * * * *

	Following the Olympic procession, the festivities continued on into
the evening with merriment and music echoing from every corner of the
city. Standing at one of the palace balconies outside the Royal Courtyard,
I had watched as the agora came to life. Men and women of all ages swarmed
its ten-block radius, pouring into the outlying streets in drunken
revelry. From high on the palace promontory, their torches and ornamental
lanterns were like dancing fireflies. Peering past the city at the wide
expanse of Lake Loudiaka to the south, glimmers of light swimming across
its surface, I quietly pondered the wonders beyond the edge of the world.
	"What do you see out there?" The familiar tenor of Alexander's
voice drifted from the archway behind me. I glanced back to see him leaning
against the wall, a kylix full of sweet wine held in his right hand. The
fruity, warm fragrance that wafted from his cup could have only come from
the sunlit island of Lesbos, clear across the Aegean Sea. Alexander wore a
maroon chiton with woven gold along the hemline and a polished lion's head
pin glinting at his shoulder. The spices of his bath mingled with the scent
of his wine in a soothing mixture. Even relaxed and barefoot as he was now,
he still appeared the very picture of royal bearing. Why do the lights of
the world always seem dim in his wake? I turned back to the city below,
suddenly overcome with that feeling I could not place.
	"I see..." My voice caught in my throat, tangled by nameless
emotions. I felt strangely naked again, exposed to a buried truth that I
had long ago chosen to ignore. Alexander was my best friend since
childhood. It had always been the two of us against the world, pretending
to conquer faraway lands with our wooden swords and racing through the
hallways to escape our chores.
	"I see..." There were thoughts that had crossed my mind, messages
whispered into my ear from Apollo-about the way his thumb would seem to rub
me when his hand rested on my lower back, or what he might be thinking when
he aimed that special crooked grin at me after a good laugh.
	"You see what?" His voice was right at my ear now, whispered breath
tickling my skin. I had trouble focusing on anything as I turned around and
looked at him. His eyes were molten pools of twilight, the diffused blush
of the darkening sky reflected in their depths. Seeing him so close, his
smile soft and inviting, I realized what I saw. The words escaped me before
I could think to stop them.
	"I see you."
	Alexander's smile faded, his mouth slowly opening. I looked away,
feeling vulnerable and a little embarrassed as I closed my eyes and waited
for him to leave. I had revealed the most intimate part of myself,
admitting to both Alexander and myself that the boyhood companions waving
swords in mock battle were no more. With that one revelation, the very
nature of our friendship could never be as it was. Surely the gods were
laughing from atop Mt. Olympus, pitying my hopelessness. A part of me even
pitied myself as I tried to swallow the growing lump in my throat, cursing
my lack of control. What would I do? Where would I go? How did th-
      Everything stopped. My hopes and fears, my sense of time, the passing
of breath from my lungs...all of it froze as the fingers of his hand
trailed up the side of my neck and into the soft curls of my hair.
	"Hephaestion..." Alexander's voice was low and raspy. My breathing
returned, as quick and stuttering as my racing heartbeat. I grabbed the
front of his chiton and closed my eyes.
	"Alexander, we can't-" Before I could say another word, his full
lips trapped my own. My eyes shot open in shock, but as his warm lips began
to massage my own, my eyelids fluttered shut again. I could taste the sweet
bite of his wine as he turned his head and pushed into my mouth, his tongue
forcing its way between my lips. The spiced heat of his body was
intoxicating, closing around me as his other hand clutched my lower back
and pulled me into him. My cock was hard and pulsing beneath my chiton. My
hands slid over the toned waves of his muscles and into his golden locks as
he took his hand from beneath my lower back and pulled up his chiton. He
unlocked our kiss, biting at my lower lip as he grasped my hand and put it
on his dripping cock.
	"Stroke me." His breath was hot against my mouth as I took its
long, throbbing girth in my hand and began rubbing along the shaft, using
the clear liquid dripping out of it to slicken my grip. Alexander groaned
low in his throat, his eyes rolling back as the fingers that were along the
back of my neck tightened in my hair. He hurriedly lifted up my garment and
grabbed hold of my cock, letting a trail of spit ooze out of his mouth and
onto the head of my cock before twisting his hand up and down its engorged
shaft. I moaned loudly, my legs nearly buckling as he pumped his hand along
the length of my tingling cock. I could feel my breath quickening as the
sensation spread throughout my body, entrapping me in wave upon wave of
ecstasy.
	Then a low moan started cresting in the back of my throat, unbidden
and getting louder with each twisting stroke of Alexander's strong hand
against my leaking cock. I nearly fell to the floor but before I could,
Alexander caught my mouth in his own and held it there as the pumping of
his hand increased in speed, tight and wet with his spit. Finally, it was
as if the world lapsed in form and meaning as we unleashed our seed at the
same moment. We groaned helplessly into each other's mouths, trying to hold
one another up as white fluid exploded from our cocks onto our arms and
legs. It was danger. It was the unyielding crash of Poseidon's hands upon
the torrid rocks of foreign shores. It was conquest and greed and the
bloody abandonment of war thrown together to create a passion that carved
worlds from nothing. It was lands yet undiscovered, treasures yet
untouched, and the forging of a bond that would catch history itself in its
thrall. It was the beginning.


I hope you guys enjoy my first installment of this new story. I've been
very busy with other things, so if anyone has noted my absence and been
frustrated by it, I apologize. Anyway, I've renewed my commitment to
writing so I hope you all enjoy the stories I'll be developing over the
remainder of the year. As always, minors read at your own risk. Thank you
and I look forward to any feedback you might have. Cheers!