"Babylon
Part 3
by Beryll
A cool hand against his neck was the first sensation that found its way into Alexander's mind when consciousness returned to his aching body. For a long moment he had no idea where he was, his thoughts moving sluggishly, the only clear thing the fact that he hurt all over.
But then memories resurfaced, pictures popping into his mind like stinking bubbles rising in a slowly rotting swamp. It had been a long morning indeed. Not an enlightening one, though. None of the many men who had used him had tried anything that hadn't been done to him before. In fact he had been through worse.
The thing that was sorely missing was the knowledge that he had earned good hard coins for the disgusting experience. And even more the knowledge that he could go home now to a long soak in the bathtub Cletus kept for occasions like this.
It seemed impossible to even gather the energy to open his eyes when he knew perfectly well that it would probably be his new master or some other noble waking him now, demanding his services. After all he was a slave now. And there was no rest for a slave.
Pain shot through his lower back as he was turned over. He was pretty sure that he had been bleeding when the Lord had been done with taking him. After that things had blurred into a meaningless procession of various cocks filling his holes. Nothing that wouldn't heal in a few days. If he was given a few days before he'd be used again.
Then a soft gasp from above him caught his attention. Whoever had turned him over was now able to see his face. He expected disgust at the mess of blood and dried semen covering him. Maybe a hard slap for not having cleaned up already.
What he certainly not expected was to hear his name. "Alexander..." whispered by a voice he recognized. Hephaistion.
No, he thought desolately. Not him. Let it not be him. Don't let him see me like this. Begging with whatever gods might hear he screwed his eyes shut more tightly, trying to block out reality.
But again no gods seemed to be listening.
"Sweet mother Isis, what has happened to you?" he heard Hephastion, accompanied by that cool hand gently caressing his cheek, brushing hair out of Alexander's face that had been stuck to dried filth. There was no disgust in Hephaistion's voice, only deepest pity.
But that didn't make it one bit easier to open his eyes. He had not wanted Hephaistion to ever learn that he was just a street whore. Now he was even less and it seemed there was no way of keeping the ugly facts secret from the Egyptian. Now that he thought about it - there was a good chance that the master Hephaistion served was the same who now owned him as well. So he would do well to tell Hephaistion the truth now and be done with it.
Slowly he opened his eyes, his lashes sticking to his cheeks with dried tears and less savory stuff. Above him Hephaistion's face loomed - slightly out of focus as Alexander's eyes slowly adjusted to the warm light of the afternoon sun shining through the high windows. Alexander realized that his head was resting in Hephaistion's lap now.
He had expected to see disgust in the Egyptian's bright blue eyes, that and maybe some pity. What he had definitely not expected was a strange mix of surprise, deepest sympathy and smoldering rage. Hephaistion's hand still lay against Alexander's cheek and continued caressing him, ignoring his soiled state.
"Who did this to you?" Hephaistion asked, his voice now showing a hint of aggression that was clearly not directed at Alexander.
With a wince Alexander realized a danger he had so far completely overlooked. That Hephaistion might try to protect him and therefore get in trouble himself. That mustn't happen. He wouldn't allow Hephaistion to ruin his life over a worthless whore.
Somehow he managed to gather the energy to sit up straighter and free himself from the Egyptian's gentle embrace. "It's... nothing..." he muttered, raking his fingers through his hair, tearing at the places were it was stuck together with dried semen. Disgusting. He felt disgusting and must look even more disgusting.
Hephaistion snorted, not amused at all. Of course he didn't believe that, Alexander thought. He could see clearly enough what had happened. He would have to come up with something else to get him out of the line of trouble.
"Really... I'm fine." he grumbled, trying to sound us brusque as he could. Hephaistion had left him alone the previous night, maybe it would work again if he tried hard enough to appear like a bastard.
For a moment it seemed to work as anger flared in the Egyptian's eyes. But then his eyes narrowed and a calculating look entered them. He reached out and when his fingertips again gently brushed Alexander's face and it took all his strength of will not to lean into the touch, not to snuggle back into Hephaistion's lap and seek solace from the ugly memories of the morning.
"Tell me who did this to you." Hephaistion asked again, this time almost pleading.
Too sweet, too caring for Alexander to keep up his tough mask. "Please..." he answered just as pleadingly, "you'll just get into trouble. I'm not worth that. I'm just a whore... a slave..."
Again Hephaistion didn't react at all in the way Alexander had anticipated. Instead of either trying to convince Alexander or at last showing the repulsion he must be feeling he blinked in genuine surprise and confusion.
"I..." he began, only to stop himself. His fingers gently traced Alexander's jaw, soothing a bruise. "You are worth any trouble to me," he then continued softly, "you saved me from those thugs. Don't you think I should do the same for you?"
Of course he was right in a way, Alexander thought. Only there was nothing he could do to help. So he just closed his eyes in defeat, his mind still muddled with dull pain and unable to come up with anything that would deter Hephaistion.
He was surprised when Hephaistion didn't push him any further but instead got up from the floor where he had been kneeling opposite Alexander.
Only now did Alexander notice that instead of the simple linen tunic he had been wearing the night before his only piece of clothing now was a white skirt in typical Egyptian style. There was fine embroidery on the hem, combined with the softly falling fabric it had a look of luxurious simplicity that would have been lost on most Persians but even in Alexander's sorry state he was able to appreciate how good Hephaistion looked in it, his lean body showing only firm muscles and not an ounce of fat.
For a moment he was caught with the sight, not really noticing what Hephaistion was up to, but when the Egyptian stepped out of the room and shouted a name he realized that he was going to involve someone else in the matter.
It took him to tries to make it to his feet and he wasn't very stable but he somehow managed to stumble over to the arched doorway, ignoring the pain shooting through his guts. "Hephaistion... don't..." he got out before a young man, wearing a skirt similar to Hephaistion's came running down the corridor outside. Alexander vaguely remembered him as being in the entourage of the Lord who had brought him here.
What really startled him was when the young man dropped to his knees in front of Hephaistion, touching the floor with his forehead. "Yes, my prince?" his slightly muffled voice asked politely.
Alexander stared at Hephaistion with his mouth gapping open but the Egyptian ignored him studiously. "I'm sure there is a good reason why I found this boy here in my antechamber." Hephaistion addressed the kneeling servant. "Who left him there?"
"Lord Cassander got him on the market, my prince." the servant explained with a hint of nervousness.
"Is that so?" Now the boiling rage Alexander had seen in Hephaistion's eyes when he had first looked at him was evident in the Egyptian's voice.
The servant seemed to notice as well as Alexander could see him tremble. Prince... Alexander's mind tried to process the title but something inside of him just refused to believe that the boy he had saved from some street thugs was not just a servant but a noble. A powerful noble who made a servant tremble with nothing more than a trace of anger in his voice. But Hephaistion's stance now was one Alexander was familiar with, the stance of someone used to power. And under any other circumstance he would have done the same as the servant did right now: kneel and tremble.
His mind reeling and his body still extremely un-amused by his mistreatment Alexander had to take hold on the archway not to fall. Prince...
His stumble caught Hephaistion's attention and suddenly the Egyptian's arm was wrapped around him, keeping him stable, ignoring the fact that he was smearing his precious skirt with the filth still covering Alexander's body. All anger had left Hephaistion's face when Alexander looked at him, replaced by worry and care.
"Xander? Are you seriously hurt?" Hephaistion asked, the endearment slamming home the fact that he might be a prince but that this didn't change the fact that Alexander had saved him, that they had spent a wonderful night together, that they had kissed, that Hephaistion cared for him - and obviously didn't care at all who or what Alexander was.
The servant seemed to realize the same as he softly coughed to catch his master's attention and then asked: "Should I get a healer, my prince?"
"I... I'll be okay," Alexander choked out, "I've been through worse." Still he held on to Hephaistion for support, suddenly not caring anymore who he was or who Hephaistion was. Something told him that right now he was in the safest place he had been in a long time. And he was bright enough not to give it up.
Hephaistion eyed him suspiciously but then seemed satisfied with Alexander's answer. "No." he told the servant. "But do get Cassander." he commanded, a malicious note entering his voice that would have made Alexander shudder had he not known that it wasn't directed at him.
The servant quickly jumped to his feed and bowed again. "Yes, my prince." Then he hurried away, leaving Alexander alone with Hephaistion.
"Prince...?" Alexander repeated, looking at the Egyptian questioningly. There where signs of his nobility, now that Alexander was looking for them. His skin was too clean, too smooth, he held his head too high and his body showed not signs of hard work, his hands not smooth but now that Alexander paid attention he realized it were calluses of swordsmanship, not of craftsmanship he had felt on them.
Hephaistion had the grace to blush slightly at Alexander's question. "Well... yes..." he said, "not an important one, though, just a minor cousin to great Pharaoh."
Alexander slowly shook his head, trying to clear it from the still lingering mist of exhaustion as much to try to comprehend that this boy would most certainly not get into trouble for trying to protect him. That in fact this prince was quite able to protect him. That just maybe - if the care and genuine affection he saw in Hephaistion's eyes wasn't just his wishful thinking - there was a chance that his whoring days could be over.
"Cassander did this to you, didn't he?" Hephaistion asked, his eyes again taking on that unholy light of fury.
Only now did Alexander remember that he was still naked and covered with the residue of the entertainment of the morning. That he was still leaning on Hephaistion and soiling him as well. Quickly he looked away, shame again rising inside him that this boy he would so have liked to call his friend had seen what he was.
"Yes." he admitted slowly, unable to face Hephaistion.
The prince's reaction was a snarl of primal rage. "He will regret it." Then he reached out and took Alexander's chin, turning his face back to look at him. "Xander..." Again the endearment managed to force Alexander out of his dark thoughts and he looked up to find Hephaistion looking at him with warmth.
"I am sorry I wasn't able to save you like you saved me. But I am glad nonetheless to see you here." Again he blushed slightly, looking so much like the boy on the roof that Alexander again felt that feathery excitement run through his aching body.
And then Hephaistion asked a question Alexander hadn't even realized he had been hoping for. "When I have dealt with Cassander, will you stay? With me?"
His heart shouted the answer but somehow he managed to keep a hint of decorum, casting his eyes down meekly. "If you want me to..."
Hephaistion opened his mouth to answer, that familiar merry sparkle back in his eyes when he was cut short as the Lord Cassander entered the room again. His mere presence made Alexander shudder and wish he could just fold in on himself and disappear. Just looking at him he could again taste the noble on his tongue, feel him buried deep enough that Alexander thought his cock split his guts. The urge to drop to his knees was overwhelming but Hephaistion kept a form arm around his hips, keeping him upright. So he could just study his own feet to escape the confrontation.
"My prince." Lord Cassander greeted Hephaistion, his voice now oily and submissive, not sneering and dripping malice.
"My dear Cassander." Hephaistion answered, his voice having taken on both the sneering and the malice that had been missing with Cassander. "I have to say I was rather surprised to find the gift you left for me."
Alexander wasn't sure what Hephaistion was referring to but when he glanced up he realized that both Lord Cassander and Hephaistion were now looking at him, Cassander clearly shocked.
"My prince?" he asked, sounding none to sure what his prince was hinting at either but rather sure that it wouldn't be pleasant.
"To leave a broken and soiled toy... I wonder what you could possibly be trying to tell me with a gift like that..." Hephaistion continued and even Alexander was able to deduce that the way Hephaistion was phrasing it, it meant an incredible insult to him.
"I..." Lord Cassander stammered, sounding accordingly shocked. "My prince, it certainly wasn't my intention..."
"Cassander!" he was cut short, the anger in Hephaistion's voice now obvious. "I would expect you to at least show the guts to stand by your insult to my person! You add cowardice to insolence!"
Even Alexander with his rudimentary political knowledge realized that Hephaistion had managed to maneuver the Lord into a highly uncomfortable position with his well placed words. Especially as Alexander now noticed that they were not alone anymore. Guards had come in. Not those of Lord Cassander but tall grim Nubians who obviously served the prince. And his senses told Alexander that there were more people lurking close enough to observe every word spoken. Lord Cassander was in definite trouble.
Hephaistion's next words caught the noble off guard as much as Alexander. "You have also made the mistake of picking the worst possible victim as your gift." Hephaistion hissed, his voice brimming with rage barely held in check. "This boy you have so carelessly raped and brutalized happens to be dear to my heart. He is my friend. For this offense you will pay."
Both Lord Cassander and Alexander stared at Hephaistion open mouthed. If there was one thing Alexander would never have expected it would have been to hear a prince call him - a street whore - his friend. Especially not publicly.
But Hephaistion was not done with showing why one should never mess with someone higher up in the food chain. "Guards, take Cassander outside and have him beheaded!" Hephaistion ordered coldly.
The noble Lord was halfway down the corridor, being dragged by the huge Nubians before his mind came alive again and he started to beg for his life. Hephaistion turned away from the sight, still supporting Alexander who could hardly believe what he had just witnessed.
His attention was riveted from the Lord who had raped him to the prince next to him, when Hephaistion addressed him, his voice soft and caring again. "I hope this will repay some of the debt I owe you, Xander." he said, smiling at the startled Alexander. "I hope this will repay some more of it." he then added, drawing Alexander closer and again kissed him, gently, lightly and utterly lovely.
And then Hephaistion was leading him deeper into his suite of rooms, telling him about a warm bath, new clothes, food and all the precious gifts every street whore of Babylon had ever dreamt about and all Alexander could think was that obviously the tales of the old men at the bazaar did have a kernel of truth to them.
If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to: Beryll