Title: Avoiding Love
Author: JenF
Chapters: 1 of 1
Disclaimer: I do not own the The Three Musketeers, D'Artagnan or Treville. If you recognise something, it's probably not mine. I'm just having fun.
Aramis winces inwardly as yet another despondent sigh slips past his drinking fellow's lips. He knows he should be making enquiring noises, offering a shoulder to cry on, but somehow, tonight, it's all beyond him.
The ambush had been swift, silent and deadly. Out of 14 of the King's best men – and they really had been the best – only eight had returned. Aramis had made his report to Treville; he had patched himself up as best he could and accepted the attentions of the men he called his family.
Porthos had been worry personified to the point where Aramis had had to get away from his dearest friend, if only for a short while.
The inn he chose was, on reflection, never going to afford him the solitude he craved so much tonight. As soon as he had a bottle of the landlord's finest red wine, he had spotted a familiar face at a table in the darkest corner of the inn – a table he had hoped to claim for himself.
And so here he is, sitting with d'Artagnan, wondering whether he should even attempt to lift the weight of the world off his young friend's shoulders or succumb to the call of the wine and accompanying oblivion.
In the end, the decision is made for him as d'Artagnan raises his head and gives Aramis a penetrating stare. But he says nothing for what feels like hours to Aramis, long enough for the older man to feel like a bug being studied before a pointless and painful dissection.
"How do you do it?" d'Artagnan eventually asks and Aramis, in his current state of mind, isn't sure what he's being asked. He tries a delaying tactic, reaching for his wine, only to find the goblet empty.
"Do what?" he asks, signalling to the barmaid for more wine. It occurs to him that d'Artagnan may not know of the ambush. He wasn't at the garrison when the stragglers returned, hurt in body and heart.
"Avoid love," d'Artagnan replies, dropping his head slightly and looking up at Aramis through that too long hair of his.
Aramis sighs. He hasn't known d'Artagnan long enough for the boy to be privy to his life story in its entirety yet. He leans back, toying with his empty goblet and regards d'Artagnan. His thoughts are disordered, his emotions unruly. He's given a few moments' reprieve by the arrival of more wine.
"I don't," he finally admits. "It's not something to be avoided, I simply haven't had it for a long while."
D'Artagnan looks up and Aramis takes his first good look at him. He takes in the redness around his eyes that Aramis knows from experience doesn't come from tiredness. He sees the despair hanging over d'Artagnan like a shroud. He sees the sadness in his posture and the unshed tears waiting for an outlet.
And suddenly, Aramis knows. D'Artagnan's heart has been broken, maybe for the first time. Aramis can still remember the first time it happened to him. He knows.
He refills both their goblets silently and raises his own to his lips.
"It never hurts any less," he tells d'Artagnan. "You just learn to hide it better." He reaches over and rests a hand on d'Artagnan's forearm. "You will get over it," he reassures his friend, all the while recognising the lie in his own words. "You'll be able to move on, one day."
D'Artagnan looks down at Aramis' hand and Aramis briefly wonders if he should move it, wonders if the contact is unwelcome. But he decides he's worrying unduly when d'Artagnan leaves his arm where it is and nods, slowly.
"What if I don't want to?" he asks and Aramis feels his own heart break a little for the lost boy before him.
"Then it will eat you up from the inside," he admits and prays that d'Artagnan is too self absorbed to recognise the experience in his own voice. "It will eat you up and spit you out. You will be useless to anyone." He stops and drains his wine. "Don't let that be you, d'Artagnan." He gives his companion's arm a reassuring squeeze and decides to let d'Artagnan into his head, just a little.
"I've been there, d'Artagnan," he tells him. "Learn from my mistakes. Move on."