A/N: After the latest episode I just felt that I had to write something. It's short, and nothing spectacular really, but it just came to me and I rolled with it. Hope you enjoy.
Disclaimer: I don't own The Musketeers or its characters.
When they return from their rescue mission and Captain Treville puts it in his hands, all he does is stare at it. Adrenaline is still flooding through his veins and he feels confused, though the confusion is not directed towards the item itself. He knows it well, would recognize it anywhere. No, the problem is that it is not where it should be.
On Porthos' shoulder.
His fingers run deftly over the pauldron's surface. The brown leather is jagged with sword marks from years of battle, each carrying a different story and all of which he could recite in his sleep. He is stunned into silence, and hardly hears d'Artagnan's disbelieving outburst and Athos quiet exchange with Treville over the blood rushing in his ears.
He… left? Without saying anything to any of them? Without saying anything to him?
Something in his chest clenches, and it's suddenly difficult to breathe. He blinks, trying to disperse of the shadows lurking at the edge of his vision, and forces air through his nose and into his lungs.
"Where is he now?" Athos asks, but it sounds distant, muffled.
"At Belgard's", Treville says and even through the fog in his mind, Aramis can hear the bitterness lacing his voice. "The man has gotten into his head."
"Then we will have to make him see sense", d'Artagnan states, with the fierce confidence of youth.
"In the morning", the Captain says. "Tonight we rest and make sure the girls are comfortable." His voice turns dark, "God knows they have suffered enough for a lifetime."
There is rustling as they all prepare to leave, but Aramis is unable to move, his eyes still fixed on the pauldron in his hands.
"Aramis."
He nearly flinches, and tears his eyes from the object in his hands to meet Athos' cool, steady gaze. Try as he might, something of his inner turmoil must show on his face, for Athos' expression softens slightly and he crosses the distance between them.
"We will get him back", the older musketeer says firmly. He places a hand on Aramis' shoulder and gives it a gentle squeeze, and Aramis forces a smile, because he doesn't know what else to do. He can feel panic poking around in his chest but he pushes it aside, clinging to Athos' words with the desperation of a man drowning.
They will get him back.
That is the only acceptable option.
When they make it outside after the fight at Belgard's, Aramis wastes no time getting to his horse. He hears Porthos behind him, voice light and teasing as he tells Athos that his estate is the biggest and he sees, without having to look, Athos' answering smirk as well as hears d'Artagnan's small huff of laughter. But he can't make himself join the banter. Not yet.
After he finds what he is looking for, he turns and walks back to them.
"The Captain thought you might be needing this", he says. He holds out the pauldron and Porthos takes it and smiles, holding it like it's the most treasured thing in the world. Aramis watches him and feels his chest ache again, but this time for entirely different reasons.
"All for one?" he says, not sure whether it's a statement or a question. He can hear the pleading in his voice but is incapable to do anything about it. If Porthos were to turn them down now… it's too much to even consider.
But when Porthos looks up at him and smiles, those last lingering feelings of dread vanish and Aramis clenches his hands to keep them from shaking in relief.
"Yeah…" he answers, dark eyes warm and honest and more relaxed than they have been in the last couple of days, "I know."
And Aramis can't ask for more.
A/N: I may as well take the opportunity to properly thank you all who read my previous Musketeer fic. The response I got truly warmed my heart and filled me with courage to continue writing. So thank you all for that, it means more to me than I can ever convey with words.
Feel free to leave a review!
/Linguam