Man in the Iron Mask: I Don't Feel Safe Without It
As Aramis led a disgruntled Porthos back into their country cottage, Athos noticed a figure in the window above. Squinting, his heart skipped a beat as he recognized the Iron Mask looking back at him - whether it was fear that panged his heart, or longing, he was not sure. The bearer of the Mask, Philippe, stumbled in the view of the window, looking down at Athos with an expression hidden by a cage of iron.
Padding across the lawn, leaving the broken down splinters left from the collapse of the barn, Athos made his way back into the cottage. Why was Philippe wearing the mask? Burdened with the Mask for six years, abandoned in a prison, Athos was surprised that Philippe hadn't destroyed the Mask. A lesser man would have done anything in his power to destroy something that plagued him for so long - something that held him prisoner not unlike the cell he lived in. But then again, Philippe was not like ordinary men. Athos could not remember the last time he met a soul as pure as Philippe - at least, not since Raoul.
Shaking the thoughts of his late son out of his mind, Athos entered the cottage, ignoring the bickering between Aramis and Porthos as they finally settled down with their wine. He crossed the kitchen to the corridor that lead to Philippe's quarters, hearing the familiar crackle of the fire burning in the young man's fire pit. As he stood in the threshold of the pitiful room, Athos gazed at Philippe, who sat in a wooden chair, Mask in hand. He seemed to gaze at the Mask as if it were an old friend, a longing look in his eyes that Athos found difficult to swallow.
Philippe noticed his appearance and managed to tear his eyes from the Mask, locking eyes with Athos. The older man stepped closer, crossing the room almost cautiously. Philippe looked uncertain, as if he expected Athos to question him, but the older man remained silent. Instead, he reveled in the appearance of the boy before him. Although he hated Philippe's brother, the man who was a carbon copy of his twin in every way - physically, he found a strange closeness to the former prisoner. With a pang, he remembered the tear filled eyes, and the confusion that choked Philippe when he asked why he had been locked away for so long. Athos' heart trembled for the boy, who broke eye contact as the older man took the seat across from him.
Philippe looked back down at the Mask, still clutched firmly in his hands. His voice trembled slightly, so faint that Athos almost missed it as he spoke, "I've worn this mask so long, I don't feel safe without it."
Athos swallowed his pity, "I will sit with you. I can't sleep either." His gaze fell on the Mask, a symbol of such torment. He tried to see it in the way Philippe saw it. Although this Mask kept him a prisoner in his own body, it was a source of protection for the boy. They sat in silence for several moments, the only sound coming from the crack of the fireplace as the wood splintered and burned.
"You are strong, Philippe." Athos found himself saying, his voice barely more than a whisper.
"I don't know about that." Philippe muttered, locking gazes with Athos once more. "Those six years in the prison felt like six lifetimes. For seasons I begged for God to take my life - so that I may finally be free of my torment. Over those years, the Mask became a part of me. Without it…. I don't feel safe. How can I be strong?"
Athos leaned over and placed his hand comfortingly on Philippe's knee. "You are strong. A weaker man would have perished over those years, sought revenge on those who wronged him. But no, you are still pure at heart."
Philippe looked down at the floor, and Athos saw how his lip trembled that he did not wholly believe the older man's words. Lifting his hand from Philippe's knee, Athos cupped the young boy's chin, and lifted his face until their eyes locked once more. Athos found himself lost in Philippe's blue eyes, unable to finish the heartfelt speech he had been prepared to give. Philippe seemed entranced as well, staring at Athos with wide eyes.
Without thinking, Athos leaned closer to the boy, closing the gap between them. He could feel Philippe's breath on his lips as he leaned so close that their noses touched. Still holding Philippe's chin, he tilted the boy's head towards him, and closed the gap between their lips. Athos let his eyes flutter shut, feeling Philippe's pale lips move against his own. He felt Philippe move slightly, and fingers wrapped around the wrist that held the boy's chin. The younger man pushed against Athos' lips, pushing him back farther in his chair, as if Philippe was hungry for the physical contact he'd missed in all those years.
In the back of his mind, Athos knew the persecution that would come from this act. He knew that if anyone were to walk into the room at that moment, that their lives would be over. Well, anyone but Aramis, probably. Athos knew that his oldest friend had suspected Athos' hidden feelings over the years - and he would not judge him. Aramis was a priest, it was his job to judge, but not when it came to his friends. They liked to joke about his holier-than-thou judgement, but Athos knew that Aramis would stick by him until the last breath.
Athos grunted as Philippe placed his other hand on the older man's cheek, deepening the kiss until Athos thought he would fain. From oxygen deprivation or euphoria - he wasn't sure. Reluctantly, he pulled away from Philippe, and let his eyes open to take in the sight before him. Philippe's eyes were half lidded and his lips were swollen, but the look he gave Athos told him more than an encyclopedia could.
"Philippe…" Athos began, but was cut off as Philippe shook his head slightly, locking eye contact with the older man.
"I know." Philippe responded. "We can't do this - not here."
Athos narrowed his eyes, feeling as though he had been punctured in the heart. "We can't do this at all." He rubbed his thumb against Athos' cheekbone, thoroughly stopping the older man from speaking any more. Athos' eyes were glazed, and he looked at Philippe in a way that the younger boy had never been looked at before.
"Yes we can." Philippe assured him. "I would do anything to have you. My heart wants you, and how could that be wrong?"
Athos couldn't help but smile at Philippe, putting his hands on the boy's shoulders. He knew that he had never loved another human in the way he loved the boy before him, and his heart leapt for joy as he saw the same sparkle in Philippe's eyes. He knew that Philippe loved him as well, and they could be together in secret.
"Athos." Philippe whispered, leaning closer to their foreheads touched and his breath once more graced Athos' lips.
"Yes?"
"I won't need the Mask to feel safe anymore. Not if I have you."