Title: A Curse of Music
Author: Qaddafi the Ripper
Book: Fire From Heaven
Rating: PG
Pairing: pre-Hephaistion/Alexander if you're really looking for it
Summary: Hephaistion meets Phoinix, who sees what he and Alexander mean to each other.
Disclaimer: Fire From Heaven belongs to Mary Renault

"There's someone I want you to meet," Alexander had said. Hephaistion wondered who he meant. He'd already seen the king and queen from afar, so Alexander surely couldn't mean one of them. He'd already met Alexander's older friends, Ptolemy and Philotas and Harpalos. Hephaistion couldn't think of whom else Alexander wanted him to meet, so he silently followed his new friend through the dark, echoing corridors of the palace at Pella. He wondered fleetingly if Alexander wanted him to meet Leonidas, but he didn't think so. And he hoped not too, since he'd heard how the old man was harsh to the prince and wasn't sure if he could be polite to him.

The room Alexander led him to surely couldn't belong to anyone important. It was a small room along an out-of-the-way hall. Alexander threw him a grin and then knocked on the door. "Who's there?" called the voice of an old man.

"It's me, Alexander," the prince said back. A moment later, the door opened to reveal an aged gentleman staring down at the two boys. Hephaistion was reminded of his own grandfather, who liked to sit in front of the fire at night and tell stories to his grandchildren of the old days. He'd go on and on for hours if you let him and sometimes it got boring or confusing. But some of his stories were really good, and Hephaistion asked to hear them time and again.

The man smiled. "Hello, young Achilles. What brings you here today?" He stepped aside at the same time, ushering the boys into his chamber. He had a nice, friendly smile, and Hephaistion decided that he liked him.

Alexander grabbed Hephaistion's arm. "Phoinix, I want you to meet my new friend, Hephaistion. He's Amyntor's son. Hephaistion, this is Lysimachos. He's the only adult who's ever cared about me."

Hephaistion smiled at Lysimachos. "It's an honor to meet you, sir," he said.

Lysimachos gazed back at him in thought. "You're the first friend Alexander has ever introduced to me." He stared at Hephaistion a while longer, then broke into a grin. "It's an honor to meet you too, Patroklos."

Hephaistion felt he could have died from joy.

***

Hephaistion paused at the top of the stairs, trying to remember which way to go. He'd already made a wrong turn once, but he was fairly sure he was close. He walked down the left hallway and looked out a window. The view was the same as from Phoinix's room, so he had to be close. He returned to the stairs and went down the corridor a second time, counting doors. Yes, he thought this room might be Phoinix's. He paused and then knocked.

"Who's there?" Hephaistion relaxed; that was definitely Phoinix.

"Hephaistion, sir," he replied, a touch nervously. He'd never seen the old man without Alexander. But Phoinix opened the door for him and invited him in, a kind look on his face. Hephaistion sat when invited to but stared down and fidgeted nervously, suddenly questioning the wisdom of his visit.

Phoinix noticed his hesitance, and gave him time to compose his thoughts. When Hephaistion was still quiet, he asked, "What is it? It's something with Alexander, isn't it?" Hephaistion nodded mutely. "You can talk to me about it. I know you're his friend and so am I. If it's private, don't worry. I can keep a secret."

Hephaistion raised his eyes and looked Phoinix in the face. Alexander had always trusted him, and he could trust him too. "It is about Alexander," he admitted.

"Yes, what happened to him?" Phoinix urged him gently.

"Nothing happened to him, sir, not precisely." Hephaistion paused. "Yesterday, we heard some people playing instruments. One man was playing a pipe, one man was playing a lyre, one man was playing a kithara, and two men were playing flutes. I thought they were really good, so I pointed them out to Alexander. He just stared at them and didn't say anything, but he looked angry, but at the same time kind of sad." Hephaistion paused after his brief tale. "I heard that Alexander liked music, but he didn't seem to like it at all."

He meant to ask Phoinix if he knew what it all meant, but it was clear from looking at him that Phoinix did know. Hephaistion waited to be enlightened. "Alexander does like music, but he doesn't like the kithara," Phoinix explained with a sad sigh. "He was fairly good, when he was younger. Not magnificent, but he played well enough. He had a very nice singing voice too, though he did sound a bit like a girl. Well, one night Philip had some important guests over for dinner, and Alexander performed for them. Afterwards, Philip said he sounded like a woman or a eunuch. It was right after that when Alexander took his first man. He hasn't played the kithara or sang since."

Hephaistion sat silent. He liked Philip; his father had always spoken well of the king, and Hephaistion had thought him a good man. Alexander had problems with him, but Hephaistion supposed that was only natural if one's king was also one's father. He'd never thought Philip might be the kind of man who'd say something like that to his own son.

He burned with the shame that Alexander must have felt. Alexander had told him he'd taken his first man at such an early age because he'd had to prove his own manhood. He'd wondered at that, and wondered why it seemed so important to the young prince.

"You're angry for his sake." Hephaistion blinked and looked at Phoinix. He'd quite forgotten the old man was still here. "That's good," he added approvingly. "Alexander needs more people to get angry for him. Queen Olympias does, but I worry over the things that make her angry. You know that I call him Achilles, yes?"

"Yes," Hephaistion said slowly, confused over the abrupt change of subject.

"It was a game I played with him when he was little. I called him Achilles, and he called me Phoinix. It seemed like a game at first, but I started thinking it wasn't. From the time I met him, I thought he could be as great as Achilles --maybe ever greater. Achilles needed Phoinix to help him become great, and so I could help Alexander learn to become the great man he was destined to be. But more than Phoinix, Achilles needed Patroklos." Phoinix gazed intently at Hephaistion, who suddenly felt very odd. "Alexander said he didn't need a Patroklos, and that he'd never find one. But I think he has found one, and wouldn't give him up for anything."

Stunned, Hephaistion stammered, "You... you mean me?"

"Of course I do," Phoinix replied calmly.

"But--"

"Hush. You are young still, both of you, but I think you'll grow closer as you get older. Stay with him, Hephaistion. He needs you now, and he'll continue to need you in the future."

Hephaistion turned away from the old man and looked at the floor. He felt as though he'd just been given the greatest treasure in the world, and he shook in fear that he might break it. Could he really be Alexander's Patroklos? He knew he wanted to. Pushing such large and fearsome thoughts from his mind, he returned to the subject that had originally brought him here. "But the music, should I talk to him about it?"

"No, I don't think so." Phoinix shook his head. "Let him keep it to himself a bit longer. He enjoys listening to music, at least, even if he can't play or sing himself. Maybe, one day, if he ever feels like he's surpassed his father, you can ask him. But until then, just be there for him."

Hephaistion stood up, knowing a dismissal when he heard one. "Thank you for helping me, sir," he said. "And I will be a good friend to Alexander, I promise."

Phoinix smiled. "I know you will. If you ever need to talk with me again, you are more than welcome, Patroklos."

Hephaistion left Lysimachos's room with a smile on his face and a firmness to his step, ready to take on and defeat anything that plagued Alexander.

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