Title: Among Barbarians
Author: Qaddafi the Ripper
Summary: The first meeting of Sisygambis and Alexander. Sisygambis POV.

The word has reached me that my son is dead. The women and eunuchs surrounding me raise their voices in the traditional cries of mourning. I sit there, still and silent. I think I am beyond grief. He was still young, to have died already. There was so much he had not yet accomplished. And his queen and children that he has left behind, what of them? We are all of us captured by that Greek barbarian. Will he kill us since we are his enemy's kin? Or will he use us as chattel?

My lips thin. I will allow no such thing. Somehow, I will find a way to save my family. It is the least I can do for my dear, brave, dead son.

I have barely begun to plan when one of the barbarian soldiers ducks his head into our tent and asks something. I stiffen, appalled; that a man who is not husband or kin should dare to enter a royal harem! One of my eunuchs, a clever little thing that learned the barbarian tongue, answers the soldier. The foreigner laughs, says something back, then ducks back out of the tent.

I turn to the eunuch. "What did he say?" I demand.

The eunuch swallows and looks uncertain. It must be interesting. "He says, Your Majesty, that the Great King lives." I sit up in shock but the eunuch continues. "The Great King did not fall in battle. He... he fled before his enemies, abandoning us here."

I sit back slowly, feeling dazed and suddenly overwhelmed by grief. My son has become a coward.

* * * * *

We have been left in peace thus far. There are Hellene guards outside our tent (I can't tell Macedonians from other Greeks), but none have disturbed us. The women here flutter about, whispering horror stories of what may become of us. I pay them no mind. My son may have given up his honor, but I have not. I will protect these women and children any way I can.

* * * * *

The barbarian king is coming here. The children are crying, and some of the women are too. Some hide, some try to look brave, some put on their best clothes and jewels, thinking to catch a new king. I wait patiently, wondering what sort of man he will be, this Alexander that has destroyed my son.

The eunuchs trembled at the entrance to the tent and then a small group of barbarians enter. I have never seen Greek men up close before. They are fair of skin and wear strange clothes. They have weapons with them and look as though they have never known fear. I set forward to greet them, the eunuch who is to be my interpreter beside me.

I gave at the tallest and grandest of them all. He has a calm, thoughtful look about him and I am reassured that perhaps he won't be as awful as I had thought. I fall to my knees in front him, pressing my face to the floor as before a Great King, performing the Proskynesis for him. "Mighty conqueror," I say, "I beg you to spare our lives."

The eunuch beside me makes a strangled sound. Why does he not bow too? I raise my head from the floor. The barbarian king looks uncomfortable and my interpreter looks like he knows he will soon die. "My queen," he gasps to me, frantic. "That is not the Macedonian king."

I feel myself grow faint. How is it that I could make such a mistake? To so offend a king, this will surely mean my death. And perhaps the death of this man too, for daring to receive what belongs to the king alone. My interpreter makes a subtle gesture and my gaze falls on another man beside the first.

This one is shorter, with bright hair that looks made of gold. His eyes flash with power and I know without another doubt that this one must be the unconquerable Alexander I have heard about. I wonder what apology I might make to him for my horror error. But before I can speak again, he laughs easily and says something.

Wide-eyed, my interpreter turns to me and conveys his words. "He says, 'Do not worry, mother. He too is Alexander.'"

Alexander leans down and holds out his hand to me. I hesitate in wonder, then take his hand and let him pull me to my feet. I am taller than he is. He leads me to a chair and seats me grandly, as if I were his own mother. I can't help but smile at him. He says something else, and my interpreter translates again. "You and the other women will be safe here, mother. I do not make war against women and children. None of my men will harm you."

He is confident as he says this, and I finally begin to relax. "That is very generous of you, my lord," I say. "But we are family to the Great King Darius; are you sure it is wise to leave by your side?"

"It is Darius I fight, not you," he says firmly. "I will treat you as my own kin."

He is so very genuine. Already I feel comfortable with him. "Even his queen? She is considered the most beautiful woman alive." And wise too, for hiding herself when he came visiting.

"If she is indeed that beautiful, then I shall not even view her, lest I should break my vow." He smiles broadly, looking very young.

"Thank you. You are a great man."

"It is easy to be great with so mighty a lady." He gives me a slight bow. "Is there anything you or your ladies need?"

I shake my head. "No, we are in need of nothing here. And knowing we are in no danger is a great comfort."

"Then I will leave you to your comfort for today." He turns to leave, the other men with him already tramping out of the tent. He pauses and looks at me one more time. "May I come and visit you again?" he asks, looking younger still.

I smile as he effortlessly touches my mother's heart. "Of course you may, my son."

He grins his broadest smile yet, nods his head, and leaves, his friend that I had mistaken for him following. As soon as he is gone, the other women and eunuchs raise their voices, gasping aloud at the wonder of his generosity. I don't listen to them, already looking forward to his next visit. I may have lost one son to cowardice and foolishness, but I have found another who is even better. Perhaps these men of Greece aren't so barbaric after all.

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