Forget me not

Athos opened his eyes. Where had this dream come from? He thought he had forgotten her, at least in the merciful darkness of unconsciousness brought on by ridiculous amounts of wine he almost seemed to get away with, but no… her memory would not let him be.

Anne, as beautiful as she was dangerous. How come he could still smell her sweet perfume on his skin? How come he remembered every single kiss and how it felt to hold her soft curves against his naked skin?

With a frustrated groan Athos got from the bed, his head hurting from more than just the alcohol he had consumed so plentiful last night. He stumbled more than he walked over to the corner of his room. Without any mercy for himself he drowned his head in the bucket filled with the ice cold water he had poured into it. The sudden coolness though did not startle him from the thoughts of her. All too easily he could imagine making love to her as she stared into his eyes with the love they once shared.

Hatred seemed like such a cruel word, but right now he wanted to hate her. However the only one he blamed for his own misery was himself. He'd been blinded, taken in like the fool he was. How come he had not seen her for who she truly was?

His wife a murderer. He could not match the two together and yet he knew like no other man how she had used her calculated mind to kill Thomas. What had happened between them? He still did not understand the full extend of her deeds. Betrayal and love went hand in hand with Anne. She had turned what was good in life upside down over the brother everyone held more dear than they did him. Everything he knew was shattered within the blink of an eye by the person he had loved more than anyone else.

Athos dunked his head in the water again, eager to wipe her from his mind on today of all days. This was not right, not by any means… and yet it came to be. "Forget me not", her last three words followed him under water

As he held his head under the water he relived their wedding day. Her beautiful dress and presence outshone only by her radiant smile. She had been so happy, so absolutely his in so many ways. The little blue flowers she'd woven into her hair had fallen out when he carried her over the threshold of their home. They'd left a trail behind of tiny petals, but neither had cared. For days they were lost in the other as they made love and became one.

Gasping for air Athos resurfaced. He had to stop doing this to himself, but how? A year it had been now since he sentenced her to the noose. A year since Anne died…

Angry at himself he dressed for duty. Only a few pulls were enough to right his shirt, but his fingers felt far too clumsy to deal with the buttons of his thick leather coat. Even so he became determined to fasten it. He was a Musketeer now, dammit! So he would wear his uniform and be proud. His duty would keep him strong. Porthos and Aramis would not let him down. They were loyal friends and they knew when he needed a distraction. Muttering to himself he tightened the last button and grabbed his hat.

Duty was enough in the cold light of day. Swordfights and fierce horse rides kept Athos sharp and left his thoughts little room to stray. This was the life that had saved him from drowning…


But his nights remained far from merciful. Athos was doomed to relive his errors, to see his Anne stand on a kart with the noose around her neck and die a death he could not bear to witness. It hurt too much to hear her struggle for breath. Rough, desperate gasps that would surely end. His heart broke in the memory of that dreadful day. Even now he understood why he had rode off…

"You coward!" In his nightmare she shouted at him; all passionate anger and love. Her eyes stared at him accusingly and then she smiled. "Forget me not", her laugh was cruel and followed him with a startling shock into the world of the awake.

Athos sat up in his bed, his eyes wide in pain and for a moment certain that he would find her standing near. The smell of her faded though. Blinking in frustration at another sleepless night he grabbed his coat and practically ran out to the streets of Paris. He needed a drink!

He half stumbled into the nearest tavern. His money had barely rolled onto the counter when he gulped down the wine he'd bought. "Another", he grunted to the man who'd served him. The man offered him a bottle and smiled knowingly. Athos ignored him and paid what was needed to make him forget.

The buzz of the wine was pleasant, soon comforting him with a blanket of warmth. Yes, this was better… so much better. A drop spilled on the table and Athos stared at the deep red colour, soon lost in another memory.

His brother bleeding out on the floor. He could never forget the sight of that and the way he had somehow seen the truth in her eyes. The excuses tumbling from her lips tasted like sour wine then. He could still not swallow her lies. "I love you", she had shouted as he had ordered for her to be dragged away from him… but had she really? Or had it all been a play from a born thief to get a rich man to protect her?

Angrily Athos blinked back the pain and gulped in more wine. He wanted out of this. Why could he not forget her? "Forget me not", she had begged. Yet he had tried his hardest to move on. "Please", she had asked and he had not listened.

Justice had to be served. He was an honourable man, sworn to do the right thing in life. She on the other hand was anything but. Her considerations were all about her. Yes, he had done the right thing… she left him no other choice. In his mind he knew this was true, but his heart never quite agreed.

His thoughts numbed as he got drunk, lost in his need to forget… and yet still lost in the memory of her.


A hand shook him away from her, firm and still somehow caring. Athos blinked up into the face of one of his brothers. Aramis smiled down on him knowingly, even though he could not truly fathom how utterly broken Athos felt.

"We've come to take you home." The order spoken in a soft voice broke no argument. Aramis' eyes stared back at him by far more firmly at him than his no nonsense manners treated him short afterwards. Without hesitation Athos was pulled up onto his feet, muttering in his slurred complaint that he was not nearly drunken enough.

Porthos' dark hair moved into his line of sight. Of course, both his friends felt this stupid need of theirs to pull him away from his only chance to forget. Athos rolled his eyes for good measure to tell them off, but like the previous complaint he found this one equally as unanswered.

They dragged him off, the motion enough to shake him from his dooming thoughts on love. This was his burden to bear, his foolishly broken heart to carry. Porthos and Aramis did not have to know…

… but somehow they did. Even as Athos slept fitfully and muttered of broken vows in his sleep his friends stayed with him.

His dreams combined with the heavy weight of his memories of her pulled him back under, relentlessly and unforgiving. Yet oddly enough he felt safer being watched. Safer with his friends around to make sure no one could disturb him in his sorry effort to get a break. She could not touch him, not break his heart all over again… could she?

She was dead, would never tear him apart again. Not that there was much left of his heart to break. "Forget me not", were but three words of her anger. He had held on to them, but found it easier now to let her be where she belonged… in the past.

"You're awake", Aramis stated the obvious when finally he sat up in the cool morning, groaning at the way his head pounded in memory of his consumptions.

Athos smiled wryly, "It would seem so."

"Good." In that one word Aramis said so much. It was an offer of friendship, of someone looking out for him when he did not know how to cope alone.

"I…", Athos tried to explain, but his heart sunk to the pit of his stomach. No, he was not ready to put into words what he still mourned.

Aramis smiled and helped him get up. "Love is what it is. It need not be said that it can take and break what it wants. One day though someone else will catch your eye and it will be better, will be what you deserve."

Porthos grunted companionably, "You are a romantic fool."

"Maybe so…" Aramis shrugged. With a smile and far too elaborate bow he handed Athos his hat. "But at least the ladies love me."

Athos could not help but shake his head at the way Porthos huffed. To offer his friend some support he clapped the broad back. His head still begged for quiet, but silence was the last thing he wanted he now realised. No, what he needed was something else…

While they walked out of his room his two friends bantered the way they always did. Speaking of how they each could outdo the other when it came to muskets, swords and ladies. As ever Aramis had a way with words. Athos could not resist a half smile in spite of his headache. Yes, their camaraderie was what he needed. To suffer alone seemed just so pointless now.

The memory of her faded as they mounted their horses and rode out of town. This was the life he needed, the only existence that kept him away from missing the woman he still loved far too much deep down. Life on the right side of honour… and maybe he could learn to like himself again one day.

So when Aramis asked if he was going to be alright Athos gave his friend the only answer he had, "This is how it must be."