They stand watching the scene, the "woman" already gone, and Athos, leaving behind his locket, is walking away from them. Porthos follows him with his eyes, knowing that his friend needs some time alone but not so much. He knows there's something off with all what happened there, he saw it in Athos' eyes when he saw that "woman". He recognized disbelief and pain but there are other emotions in him and Porthos needs to know what they are.
Aramis steps ahead, starting to follow Athos, but Porthos stops him. "I'll go. You and D'Artagnan take Madame Bonacieux home, her husband will be worried," he says, looking at the woman in D'Artagnan's arms.
Aramis tries to protest in vain. Porthos shakes his head, knowing that his brother's intentions are good but he'll make a mess of it. Aramis sighs and follows D'Artagnan to Bonacieux's house.
Satisfied, Porthos runs after Athos, catching him just outside the garrison.
"We need to talk," he says once he's next to Athos.
"Of course," he says, resigned.
They heading for Athos' lodgings and once inside Porthos starts to questioning him.
"Who was that monster? And why do you know her?"
Athos flinches, closing his eyes.
"So? Who was that monster?" Porthos approaches him.
"Don't call her like that," Athos whispers.
"What?" Porthos, visibly startled, asks.
"Don't call her like that," Athos says, this time louder.
"Why I can't call a bloody vampire a monster?" Porthos doesn't know why Athos is reluctant to address that type of Downworlder for what they are.
"She's what?" Now Athos is surprised.
"She's a vampire, Athos. Don't tell me you didn't notice." This conversation is getting complicated.
"No... no, I think I was too shocked to notice it," Athos whispers again.
"It's alright, you know that I see these things before you, maybe it's because of where I come from," Porthos puts a hand on Athos' shoulder, comforting him.
They fall silent. Porthos, now with both his hands on Athos' shoulders, while he's bowing his head and looking at his feet.
When the silence is too much Porthos sighs, directing Athos to the bed, sitting him on the narrow cot. He takes his place next to his brother and then he waits.
He counts to ten and then he sighs again and starts.
"So, you knew her?" He tries not to say something that could upset him.
"She was my wife." He knows he needs to tell somebody sooner or later or he'll go crazy, and Porthos is the right person.
"What are you talking about?" Porthos doesn't expect that.
"She was my wife," he repeats, not knowing what to say next.
"And she was a vampire back then?" Porthos doesn't know how to proceed.
"No, she was a mundane," he murmurs. It's worse than Porthos thought.
"Alright... And what happened to change her from a mundane to a vampire?" He doesn't know why Athos was married to a mundane.
"I killed her," Athos now is folding on himself.
Porthos knows he needs to choose his next words carefully.
"I think you did it because you had to, right?"
Athos nods, scrunching up his nose. "It's my duty to uphold the law."
This doesn't explain anything. Porthos tries again.
"What did she do for you to uphold the law?" he uses the same words on purpose.
"She killed my brother," he exhales.
Still the information isn't clear. Porthos needs answers and he needs them now.
"Athos, I know this could be painful, but I need to know how she came from murdering your brother to became a vampire. And please, I need everything if I am going to be able to help you," he says at last.
"I don't know how she became a vampire, but I know that she killed my brother and then I had to do something," he says, playing with his hands. "It was my duty... my duty..." Athos whispers over and over.
Porthos puts a hand on his back, rubbing it. It's enough for now. He won't upset his brother further.
"It's alright, Athos, don't worry. I'm here if you want to talk, I'm not going anywhere," he says slowly. Athos slides against him and he stays like that for a while, with Porthos' arm around him.
When he's calm enough he stands up, a little smile on his face and, striding to the table, he pours a glass of wine for him and one for Porthos. The big musketeer accepts it without second thoughts and he see that Athos is drinking his second glass. He lets him do it, knowing that his brother needs all the strength the wine can give him to face the rest of the day at least.
They drink in companionable silence until a knock on the door startled them. A musketeer informs them that the Captain wants see both in five minutes. They heads for the office expecting a lecture about something they did, but instead the Captain seems relaxed when they enter the room.
"Oh good, you're here. I need the both of you to investigate a contraband of yin fen. Some werewolf were found under the effects of that damned powder and I want you to find who brought it into Paris and who is selling it. Do I make myself clear?" Treville doesn't even let them stand completely in front of him.
"Yes, Captain," they respond together.
He nods. "Dismissed," he waves that the conversation is over and that they can leave. Athos already has a hand on the handle when the Captain speaks again.
"Ah, Athos, I'm leaving for a few days, so you'll be in command," he explains.
"Yes, Captain." Athos nods and follow Porthos outside the door.
Aramis thinks it is a little bit odd that Captain Treville has left Athos in charge of the garrison just now. It makes sense that the Musketeers are needed to carry a letter from King Louis to the Bishop of Marseille, normal mundane tasks that are a cover for the work they really do as Children of Raziel. But, at any other time, Treville would remain at the garrison and entrust Athos and Porthos with the letter. Aramis supposes that it makes sense for the commander to go out in the field with D'Artagnan to see how he does on one of his first missions. There is also the frostiness between D'Artagnan and Athos that still lingers after the boy seemed to mistakenly blame Athos for what he had to explain about what had to happen to his father. Maybe this was a cooling off period before things got harder. Maybe Treville's decision wasn't odd at all.
"We'll camp here for tonight," Treville announces, pulling Aramis from his thoughts and reining in his horse as they reach a clear, fast stream. "We'll water the horses, rest for the night, and ride again at dawn."
D'Artagnan leaps gracefully off his horse, hardly seeming to even need to stretch his legs. "I can get them water and find a patch of grass for them to graze, Captain."
Aramis does not miss the smirk on his captain's face at the boy's eagerness as he dismounts, and he does the same, handing the reins to the boy. "Don't put her between the other two," he warns, "she fights if she's surrounded while drinking."
"He is not lying," Treville says when D'Artagnan gives him a look clearly meant to ask if this was some sort of trick by an older musketeer. "That horse is fine surrounded by others in battle but put her between two at the watering place and it's like she's possessed."
D'Artagnan still looks a little disbelieving but he leads the three horses away, Aramis' on the outside.
"He's awfully eager to please after riding in to us like his boots were on fire and it was our fault," Aramis comments as he walks around to collect kindling for a fire.
"Can you really blame him?" Treville says, gathering stones for a firepit. "The boy didn't know what he was until the attack on his home and his father being forced to tell him to kill him. If Athos hadn't been nearby, as much an unknown as the demon who infected his father, D'Artagnan might not be here now."
"Well, I hope he calms down some. You know Athos doesn't like perky, energetic people who vaguely seem to be questioning his honor."
"It isn't a question of honor, Aramis, it's a question of duty." Treville crouches beside him as they work together to build the fire. "The sooner D'Artagnan realizes, as you and Athos and Porthos have, that it is his duty to fight beside us to protect the mundane world from demons and Downworlders, the better off he will be. He is a smart boy, he will realize it soon."
His captain has a point and Aramis is smart enough to admit it. "Are you still thinking of sending him to the Institute in Geneva?"
"No." Treville leans back to let Aramis start the fire. "I am thinking that Athos needs a parabatai."
Startled, Aramis lets his sash be too close to the flame and it catches fire. Treville steps on it to put it out. "Athos needs… D'Artagnan as a parabatai? You cannot be serious."
Treville gives him a tired look and shakes his head. "I am absolutely serious. Do you not agree that D'Artagnan needs someone to guide him in this new world?"
"I do agree with that," he says slowly, "but… why Athos?"
"Athos is the best Shadowhunter in France," Treville says with a shrug. "Athos is lost without something to do. Being lost makes him a danger to himself. You and Porthos have become near to Athos' equals so he has nothing to focus on."
"Other than demon fighting."
"That is too sporadic, too high and too low, to be enough for him. He will not risk D'Artagnan's life by doing stupid things with his own. He has already proven that with D'Artagnan."
Aramis sees the sense in that, because without constant work Athos often does seem intent on a path of self-destruction. Captain Treville's plan becomes suddenly clear to him. "So it's a win on all fronts; Athos gets a purpose and job while D'Artagnan gets trained by Athos."
"Now do you have any objections?" Treville asks as he lights the fire without starting himself on fire.
"Only a cautious worry about the fact that mere days ago D'Artagnan sort of wanted to kill Athos."
The older man shakes his head. "And nothing has happened since. It will be fine."
The conversation ends there because D'Artagnan has finished tending to the horses and returns with a pouch full of fresh berries that he found beside the stream. Aramis catches three fish in record time and they eat a simple meal before settling down for the night. It does not escape Aramis' notice that the captain did not mention the idea of parabatai to D'Artagnan. The conversation centers on the two younger men listening to Captain Treville tell stories of his younger days as a Nephilim warrior.
Aramis' last thought before he falls asleep is that the trio; he, Athos, and Porthos, will be very much better as a quartet. Maybe Treville knows what he was doing. He hasn't led them wrong yet, after all.