So it's the evening before I have to write a quite important exam. I've cleaned up my room, did the laundry, and now I came up with this idea… you see I'm quite good at focusing at studying, not.
I didn't do any researches for this but only wrote with the information I already knew, so don't think too much about historical accuracy, 'cause there will be none.
Moreover this will be slightly AU, as Aramis didn't go to the monastery but will join them in the war!
WARNING:
This is a war story! There will be death of minor characters, just as quite graphic violence and wounds. Don't like it, don't read it.
Athos had waited till the end of d'Artagnans and Constance's festiveness which lasted till the sun rose again.
Before everyone retreated to their beds, he stood on the balcony, hands resting on the railing, just as Treville had done all the years before him. He shouted for the men to come closer and listen what he had to say.
It was his first day as the Captain and he already had to announce such unpleasant news. Athos sighed before he raised his voice, so even the man that stood at the other side of the courtyard were able to hear him.
"Spain had declared war! We will leave to the border in four days! Prepare yourself and your families, take only the most important things with you. I want to start loading waggons this afternoon. Till then you should rest. Dismissed."
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Only moments later Athos found himself behind the desk on which Treville had sat only a day ago, and wasn't surprised as the door opened without a knock as his brothers entered.
D'Artagnan and Porthos sat down on the two chairs in front of the desk, while Aramis leaned against the windowsill.
There was silence between the men for a few moments as each one thought about the news and it's consequences, before d'Artagnan broke it. "How is it? To fight in a battle?" He couldn't deny that he was excited to go to war, but was ashamed to feel like this at the same time. He knew that war wasn't good, wasn't something you should get excited about, but he was a soldier and fighting was what he was good at. But just as excited as he was he also was scared – something he would have never admitted to anyone. He was scared of what he would see there, of what would happen to him or his brothers, and even more scared of what would happen to Constance.
Aramis lips twitched lightly as he looked out of the window. "Loud, chaos."
"Bloody." Porthos added as his mind drifted off.
Aramis noticed d'Artagnan fumble with the rim of his shirt nervously, saw the curiosity in his eyes and had pity with the boy from Gascony. He had probably ever heard war stories from first hand and therefor hadn't a clue what it was really like. He remembered how excited he was as he was first sent into battle. Youthful insanity had made him think that he could become a hero somehow, that it would be a great adventure. Aramis didn't want d'Artagnan to think the same. Because it wasn't. War was cruel and messy, gruesome and terrible. They were soldiers and would always do their duty, even if it meant to go to war – but there was no reason to enjoy it.
"My first battle was in 1622. Le Siege de Montpellier." Aramis saw the Gascon nod as he remembered to have heard of it. Athos and Porthos both leaned back in their chairs, staring down onto the desk in front of them as they listened to story.
"It seemed as we were about to win as we took over the city after two weeks of the siege. But then, he Huguenots were able to recapture it the next day." Aramis took a deep breath as the images flooded his mind.
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It had been months into the siege until the French had been finally able to claim the city theirs. They had forced the Huguenots out of the walls of Montpellier, but only a day later there was a new attack onto the high stone formation that surrounded the French soldiers and citizens of the town.
Canons were fired, forcing the stone to crumble into pieces and splash into the water that was supposed to keep Montpellier save.
Aramis had been in the army for only a few months before he was ordered to the siege. He had been young and searched for adventures as any boy in his age would have done. But his illusion of heroism and action was destroyed this day.
Most soldiers had retreated from the city walls and had gathered on the market place, ready to fight the Huguenots when the came through the gate. But some were still up there. And Aramis with them. The marksmen were supposed to weaken the opponents forces as much as possible before they stormed the city. The General had also hoped that they may be able to taken out the canons.
"It's a shame." The soldier beside Aramis muttered after a canon ball had hit it's mark only a few metres away from them and destroyed an observation tower.
"What?!" Aramis had to scream to hear his own voice, as the thundering of canons continued and caused his ears to ring.
"Sending boys like you up here to die. They should have taken you young guys down there. It's hopeless after all." Aramis frowned, he hadn't thought a moment that he was left to die. Of course the marksmen had a quite dangerous position, but it was necessary, wasn't it? They could decide if this battle was won or lost, so why don't send men onto the walls?
"You're too new to question a General's decisions, I understand that." The soldier returned to his musket and took out a Huguenot who had came dangerously close to the gate. Aramis followed his example, satisfied with himself as he hit the mark.
"I'm Gerard by the way." "Ren- Aramis." The young soldier smiled weakly before he had to put his arms onto his head protectively as another canon ball flew over them.
"Are we really going to die?" Aramis suddenly asked. He knew battles were dangerous and that the life of a soldier was never long, but he hadn't spent a thought on dying until now. His faith had been strong enough to keep up his hope to survive this, not only the faith into god but also into his General.
Gerard smiled weakly and shrugged. "We're quite vulnerable up here."
Aramis couldn't argue with this. While the soldiers on the market place waited patiently for the Huguenots to attack, the marksmen were already in the middle of battle with death.
"When we take out the canons – could we win then?" Gerard laughed before he nod slightly, amusement glistered in his eyes as he took in the young soldier beside him.
"If we can take them out, we may have a chance. But how do you think to do it? They're too far away." Aramis frowned as he looked over to the canons. They didn't seem that far away. Not so far that he couldn't hit them. "It's not that hard." He wondered as he took aim.
He focused on one of the two man that loaded the canons, before he thought better of it. He readjusted his aim and fired. The noise of the explosion was heard even in Montpellier, even though all the soldiers could see was a cloud of smoke.
"Have you shot their black powder?" Gerard asked in awe as he watched the fog disappear. Aramis only smiled, even though he didn't get what was so special on it. It wasn't that far, he thought.
Unfortunately, the success was short.
There were more than one stock of powder, obviously. And desperate to shoot everything they had, before more go destroyed, the Huguenots shot the canons against the walls now merciless.
One of the balls hit only mere metres away from Aramis, causing the wall to crumble and the ground to break. Gerard gripped on the ground only in time before the ground beneath him gave in and left him dangling over the abysm.
Aramis threw aside his musket and grabbed both of the wrists of his comrade, which forced him to lay down on his stomach. The weight of Girard became almost too much a both of them slipped further. A grunt left the young soldier's lips as the effort caused his muscles to tremble. "I've got you." He muttered between panted breaths. He felt that he couldn't hold the man any longer. He had to get him up now or never. So Aramis gathered all the strength that was left and forced himself upwards. With another pull he landed on his back and Gerard on him.
"Thank you, boy." The older soldier panted as he clapped him on the shoulder.
Shouts erupted on the market place beneath them just in the same moment, as the enemies stormed the gates.
"Better get down there." Gerard muttered and ran down the stairs.
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"It doesn't sound that bad. You won, I guess?" D'Artagnan asked carefully, as he still wasn't sure where Aramis was going with this story.
The marksman sent him a sad smile as he shook his head. "We've lost 200 of our men on this day, 600 more a few weeks later."
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A few weeks later the French tried again to reclaim Montpellier, but the Huguenots were well practiced and prepared.
As the army came closer to the ruins of the wall that once stood there high and proud, the first canons were fired from inside the city. Aramis watched in horror as the firsts rows of their regiment were blown away. The screams echoed over the field for endless seeming minutes, and as the General forced them to move on, he had to watch out to not step onto the bodies and libs that were distributed all over. He gagged as he stumbled over an arm and could have sworn that he had seen the fingers still twitch.
"GO ON! GO ON!" The General's voice shouted and forced the troops on.
More canons flew, but hit not more than a few men, as they were almost too close to the walls to be hit by them.
They thought they had made it, until an explosion to Aramis' right made them all stop. A group of soldiers had been quite close the gates before the wave of shock hurled them through the air. There was no time to comprehend what had happened before more explosions followed. Mines.
To his left and right, behind and in front of him, bullets hit the small stocks of black powder and caused enormous explosions.
"This is hell!" Gerard screamed over to him as he searched a save way through the limbs and bodies. "We will only be save inside the wall!" He explained and made Aramis and a few more soldiers follow him. More bullets whizzed through the air, some hit their target. More explosions followed. Aramis screamed, but the sound was caught in his lungs as the pressure of the air was too hard on his chest. He flew through the air and was unconscious before he met earth with a thud.
He awoke moments later, in pain and confused. But the screams of pain brought him back to reality fast. He heard his name and turned his head into the direction of the voice. It was Gerard.
The man that had become a friend of him in the past weeks and had looked out for him, lay metres away from him screaming in pain. Pleading for Aramis. But what was he pleading for? Aramis ears buzzed as the blood pulsated in them as he crawled towards the man. He hadn't reached his friend yet as he discovered the source of Gerard's pain. His left leg was almost separated from his body. Almost. A thin part of the bone still connected the thigh with his hip. Aramis gagged as he smelt the scent of burned flesh and took in the sight of the wound.
"Aramis." Gerard gasped and clamped his hand into the young soldier's shirt with more force, than he had thought was possible. "Redeem me." He breathed, the lines of pain clearly visible on his face. Aramis gulped and took the hand of his friend. "We can still save you. It's just… just the leg. The medics will surely be able to-" "No. Don't force me… to live as a cripple." Gerard closed his eyes as the pain overwhelmed him.
Aramis didn't know how the man had done it, but a moment later Gerard had pressed his musket into his hands. "Do it, please." Aramis' eyes flew back to the ripped off limb before he watched Gerard carefully. The man opened his eyes shortly, long enough to look at the young soldier with a mix of pleading and apology. "God will grant you forgiveness." Gerard breathed and closed his eyes again.
Aramis didn't hear the screams anymore, but only the fast beating of his heart as he aimed the weapon onto his friend. "I'm sorry." He whispered, his hand shaking, before he finally pulled the trigger.
