AN: This chapter involves some gratuitous hugging because I've been writing too many angsty fics and I needed some happiness. Porthos hug included because it felt unfair to let Athos and Aramis have all the fun.
Aramis caught Porthos's eye across the table, sensing his unspoken concern. As one they turned to glance at D'Artagnan. The newest Musketeer sat silently at the table, drinking steadily. When they'd first arrived to celebrate his commission, the boy had laughed and smiled and been in full spirits. But as the evening wore on, the lad withdrew. He was now doing his best Athos impression, drinking and staring about him sullenly. Athos himself was absent, having accompanied Treville to the garrison and promising to join them later.
Aramis wished he were here now. D'Artagnan looked as if he could use some assistance, and Aramis sensed that Athos knew best what was troubling the boy. His heart had been broken, that was clear from his comment. Never put your trust in love.
Aramis hadn't been scorned in years, and even when ladies turned him down, he'd always had Porthos by his side to salve his wounded pride. He was unsure how to proceed, but someone had to do something, and Porthos certainly wouldn't initiate a conversation about love.
He smiled brightly at the serving girl as she refilled their tankards and leaned in. "So, young D'Artagnan, you are one of us at last. And yet here you sit, looking as if the world's worst misfortune had befallen you." The boy started and plastered a smile on his face hurriedly, but Aramis was not fooled. "Tell me, lad, whatever has stolen your cheer on this joyous occasion?"
"It's nothing," D'Artagnan said shortly.
"Nothing would not leave you drinking like a man lost in a desert," Porthos pointed out helpfully, and Aramis glared at him. They were supposed to be doing this gently, dammit.
"You needn't concern yourselves," D'Artagnan insisted.
Aramis sighed theatrically. "Come now, my friend. You are young. You should be enjoying yourself, tonight of all nights! And yet you drink and tell us never to trust in love." He shook his head sadly. "That's something I expected to hear from Athos, never from you, D'Artagnan. You shine too brightly to sink to that level. What has happened?"
"Can't a man drink in peace without people jumping down his throat?" D'Artagnan growled. "Leave me be. For once, I'd like to forget. So let me drink!"
Aramis shared a concerned glance with Porthos. This was worse than they'd thought. This was no petty issue of dashed hopes masquerading as a broken heart. This was real heartbreak, pure and simple, and Aramis again wished Athos were here. Porthos, sensing the conversation entering dangerous territory, made a run for the bar. Aramis glared at his cowardly back, musing to himself.
Who had broken the lad's heart? The only woman he interacted with, as far as Aramis knew, was Madame Bonacieux, but surely she was far too good a woman to crush his spirits so brutally. He had to find out.
"D'Artagnan?" he began cautiously. "Has something happened to Madame Bonac-" D'Artagnan snarled before he could get her name out, and he stopped, thinking hard. It was her then, and it was intentional. Somehow, for some unfathomable reason, she had ruined the boy.
"Love is complicated, my friend," he said softly, trying to offer what solace he could. "But do not let one bad experience ruin your faith. You will love again."
"I don't love her!" D'Artagnan cried suddenly. "I don't want to love her." There was anguish in his voice, and his eyes shone in the firelight. "And I don't want to talk about it." The final words were a whisper. Aramis knew he must respect the lad's privacy, but he couldn't leave it like that. The boy needed comforting, so he rose and swept the boy into a warm hug in one swift movement.
D'Artagnan tensed for a moment. Aramis wondered vaguely if he was about to get punched, but then the lad allowed the embrace, one hand fisting lightly in Aramis's jacket, and Aramis smiled to himself. D'Artagnan was too young and too hopeful to be broken by this. He would be all right in the end. His friends would see to that.
When Porthos came back, Athos was with him. D'Artagnan smiled at them both, and Aramis was relieved to see it was a true smile, even if it was tinged with sadness. Athos flashed him a grateful eyebrow raise, surmising correctly what had occurred.
Aramis knew D'Artagnan's pain was still close, but the boy seemed to have escaped its clutches for the evening at any rate. He smiled easier and cracked a few jokes as the night wore on. He even made Athos chuckle with a particularly apt comment about LaBarge's lineage, which according to D'Artagnan contained such illustrious ancestors as a boar and a bulldog. Aramis laughed along with the others. D'Artagnan would be okay.
It was Porthos who called for the good port to be brought. Pulling D'Artagnan to his feet, he proposed a toast to the newest Musketeer. The boy had smiled and laughed and drained his glass, and then Porthos had grabbed him in a fierce bear hug that Aramis knew from experience could crack bones. His feet actually left the ground. D'Artagnan looked dazed but pleased when Porthos released him, winking at Aramis over the lad's back. Athos clapped him on the shoulder and Aramis offered him a salute, and they drank and laughed together until the innkeeper threw them out.
If there's any scene you'd like to see me cover, let me know! And please review :)