After an encounter with a young lady Aramis is painfully reminded of what he is yearning for in life. Porthos has a heart-to-heart talk with his best friend.

This story is my first attempt at writing something more detailed than my usual drabble-ish dialogues. It takes place after the war. I'd like to thank my betas Barb69 and fredbassett for their help. Hugs to both of you! And Happy Easter to all of you!

Matter of the Heart

Part one

The late evening sun dipped into the garrison courtyard, sending its last warming rays onto the man who had taken a seat at the large table near the staircase.

This particular hour when the day slowly passed into the evening, with the garrison shutting down its bustling activities and his comrades bidding their farewells with a friendly banter, was Aramis' favorite time.

Normally the marksman would have preferred the company of his friends, but today their absence was useful. Absentmindedly he picked a piece of bread from the loaf Serge had put in front of him some time ago. Athos and d'Artagnan had not yet returned from their palace duties and Porthos had gone to the Rue de Braque to fetch a pair of his boots that the cobbler had resoled. So Aramis was by himself and his mind drifted back to the events of the day. The little girl …

A few hours before:

While patrolling the streets of the Marais quarter, Aramis and Porthos came along a brawl that obviously had started in one of the surrounding taverns. They tried to separate the drunken and furious opponents, dealing out blow after blow to end the fight. Some of the surrounding passersby dodged and moved on quickly. Out of the corner of his eye Aramis suddenly noticed a woman carrying a toddler on her hip. One of the drunken brawlers stumbled into her, causing the young mother to lose her balance. In a split second Aramis was by her side, just in time to catch the little girl slipping from her mother's grip. The young woman went down nonetheless, pain written on her face. Porthos, realizing the situation immediately, rushed to her aid, picked her up and carried her away from the melee.

The little girl in Aramis' arms started to cry the second she saw her mother being scooped up by the big musketeer. "Hey there, little one," Aramis tried to soothe her. "Mummy's all right. My friend Porthos isn't going to hurt her. Come on, we'll catch up with them, hm?" Something in his voice seemed to calm the toddler. She stopped crying and looked at Aramis wide-eyed. The marksman smiled at her, taking in the sight of her curly blonde hair and two big blue orbs staring at him. The girl's eyes wandered upwards and a tiny hand grabbed at his hat. Something seemed to fascinate her. "Ah," Aramis instantly knew what the girl was aiming for. "You like the feather, don't you? Let's get you to your mummy and then you can play with it."

The young mother, now sitting on the rim of a nearby fountain, opened her arms as Aramis approached her. "Julie, ma chérie, are you all right?" she asked, concern evident in her voice. Little Julie, however, paid no attention to her mother, as she was still mesmerized by the feather on Aramis' hat.

The brawl in the background seemed to have come to an end and most of the participants had stumbled away by now. As there was no more work for them, Porthos returned his gaze to the tableau in front of him.

Aramis knelt down and now placed Julie in front of her mother. "She isn't hurt, Madame. But I'm afraid she will start crying again unless I give her that feather," he explained with a smile. "What about you? Are you hurt?" Aramis switched into medic mode.

"I think I sprained my ankle. Julie, no, let go of the hat! Pardon, Monsieur."

Porthos, who had watched the scene with amusement, burst out into a hearty laugh. "Now I see why you wear this fancy feather, Aramis. It helps you seducing women of every age."

Aramis did not even glance at his friend, as he was already occupied with the examination of the young woman's foot. "Nothing seems broken. I think you're lucky, it's only sprained, as you presumed."

Julie, still aiming for Aramis' hat with the shimmering feather, wriggled in her mother's grip.

"I haven't forgotten about you, Mademoiselle," Aramis addressed the toddler. He took his hat off, plucked out the feather and handed it over to the excited little girl. He was rewarded with a broad grin revealing two tiny white front teeth.

"Thank you, Monsieur. I think you've made her day." Julie's mother smiled at the marksman.

"I gladly give it away," Aramis replied. "My comrades always tease me about my vanity."

"Madame, can you walk?" Porthos addressed the young woman. "We can escort you home."

"That won't be necessary, thank you. I live over there, in the green house. I think I can walk if I take it slowly. Come, Julie, let's say goodbye to these friendly Musketeers."

Porthos crouched in front of the little girl and whispered, "And take good care of this feather, Julie, it was Aramis' pride and joy."

Julie grinned at Porthos, then took her mother's hand. While walking away she turned around once again and waved at Aramis with her new treasure.

The sight stirred something in the marksman. He suddenly felt a strange desire and a great loss at the same time.

Porthos, who had no doubt noticed the shift in his mood, put an arm around his shoulder. "Let's go home, my knight in shining armor. For today, you have done your good deed."

Aramis smiled sadly at his friend and let himself be led away.

TBC