The Best Soldiers
Tag to the episode 'The Good Soldier'
By Deana
Disclaimer: I don't own Aramis, (darn!) or any of the other Musketeers.
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Aramis turned away from the Musketeer graveyard that contained the bodies of their fallen brothers...which now included Marsac; the twenty-first victim of the Savoy massacre. As Aramis walked away, he fully realized that he was truly the only survivor of that hellish nightmare.
The falling rain went unnoticed by him, despite the fact that he wasn't wearing his hat. Aramis briefly wondered where he'd left it, before abruptly realizing that he'd stopped walking. Sighing deeply, he raised his head and blinked at the sight of Athos, Porthos, and D'Artagnan standing about twenty feet away, watching him. Apparently, they'd kept their distance as Aramis had stood at his old friend's grave; not to give him privacy, but feeling as if they might be unwelcome there after what had happened.
Aramis started walking again, and exhaustion suddenly overtook him as the adrenaline that had kept him going seemed to abruptly desert him.
Porthos' arm suddenly appeared around his shoulders, before Aramis even had time to notice that he'd reached them. He blinked again and focused on each of their faces. To anyone who didn't know Athos well, he would've seemed as impassive as ever, but Aramis could see the remorse in his eyes, remorse at having doubted him.
Porthos looked very guilty. He was Aramis' best friend, and felt that he had let Aramis down by not helping him find out the truth of who had betrayed them to the Duke of Savoy.
D'Artagnan looked mortified. He'd only been with them for six months, but had quickly become an important member of their little family. Out of everyone, he'd been caught in the middle the most; not knowing them all as well as they knew each other. Though he hadn't flat-out refused to believe Marsac the way that Athos had, the situation had clearly been a struggle for him, as he hadn't been sure of whom to believe. "We're sorry, Aramis," he suddenly said.
Aramis wasn't sure how to respond to that. His first instinct was to say, 'it's all right', as he naturally forgave his friends, but part of him still felt hurt. Instead, what came out was, "I killed Marsac." If his friends had helped them find out the truth, would Marsac still be alive now?
Porthos' grip around him tightened, and a hat suddenly appeared on his head, to prevent him from getting wetter than he already was. Another hand touched his other arm, and he opened his eyes, not having realized that he'd closed them.
It was Athos. "You should sleep," he said.
Aramis knew that he was right, but if he was foolish enough to try, he knew that his dreams would be filled with blood and death. He wordlessly shook his head.
"A drink, then?" said Athos. Alcohol was supposed to make a person's troubles temporarily disappear...though no matter how hard Athos tried, it never seemed to work for him.
Aramis shrugged. His mind was in so much turmoil that he was completely at his friends' mercy.
"Come," said Athos, tugging on Aramis' arm.
Aramis automatically started to walk, and they headed towards the closest tavern.
Everyone stayed silent, and Porthos never removed his arm from around his friend's shoulders. Aramis realized that he may have lost Marsac—had really lost him five years ago—but the three men who surrounded him were better friends than Marsac could've ever been...and none of them would ever leave him wounded and alone in the cold, snowy forest.
THE END
