The palace looked exactly the same, as beautifully furnished as ever. As they slowly headed up the stairs to the throne room, everyone was quiet. To each musketeer, it felt as if they'd never left; they couldn't believe that it had been four whole years.
Treville noticed the others throwing glances at Aramis as they walked, and he couldn't blame them...Aramis looked asleep on his feet. Porthos had a hand around his friend's good arm—or better arm, at least—in gentle support, and Treville hoped that the king wouldn't keep them there for long.
Finally, they arrived and the guards standing at the doors opened them. For the first time in four years, the four musketeers walked inside the throne room, and there sat King Louis and Queen Anne.
Aramis couldn't help himself; he caught his breath at the sight of the queen; she was as beautiful as he remembered, and she was smiling...at him.
Porthos tightened the hold on Aramis' arm, pulling it against himself purposely to jar the healing gunshot wound and pull Aramis out of his daze.
Aramis flinched, and broke his gaze on the queen.
"The great musketeers have finally returned!" King Louis exclaimed, standing from his throne and heading over to them. He'd grown a mustache and beard and the sight was unexpected; he looked like a mature ruler now, a far cry from four years ago.
The first thing that Athos and Porthos thought of was that now it would hopefully be harder to tell that the dauphin was Aramis' son, not the king's, because one could say that they resembled each other with the dark hair, mustache, and beard.
The king noticed their surprise at his appearance, and he grinned. "Ah, you have yet to see the new me!" He licked his fingers and twirled the ends of his mustache, like Aramis sometimes did. "Well? What do you think?"
The musketeers were speechless.
Louis chuckled, before coming closer. "All humor aside, I wanted to personally thank you for your roles in winning France's war with Spain. You are true heroes, and we salute you." With that, he started to clap his hands.
Queen Anne stood from her throne and walked over, clapping as she walked.
Porthos still had his hand on Aramis' arm, and he squeezed it to remind Aramis not to stare at her.
"It wasn't just us, Your Majesty," said Athos. "Many musketeers and soldiers fought, and many gave their lives for their country."
King Louis sighed. "I know, and they will not be forgotten; their sacrifice was not in vain." He turned towards the queen. "My dear?"
Queen Anne smiled. "I am happy that all four of you have returned safely," she said, remembering how they had saved her life—more than once—before the war, and how they had stood by her against Rochefort. "A reception is planned for a week from today, where you will be recognized for your valor."
Each musketeer gave her slight bows and said 'thank you'.
"But before then, I think you're all in need of much rest," she said, looking straight at Aramis.
"And that bring us to the next part," said King Louis. "The musketeer garrison has been repaired and remodeled. Your loyalty to my queen during the incident with Rochefort deserves my eternal gratitude."
Aramis felt his face grow paler at the king's words. The last thing Aramis wanted to hear out of Louis' mouth was anything having to do with that situation…what if he still harbored suspicion?
"And speaking of that, Aramis," said Louis. "I have something to show you." With that, he turned and quickly headed towards the door in the corner of the room behind the thrones.
Aramis blinked, almost unsure of what he'd just heard.
Everyone looked at him, wondering what the king was talking about.
Aramis looked at Queen Anne, and was surprised at the apprehensive expression on her face. Before he had a chance to wonder why, the king came back out the door…holding a small boy.
Aramis' breath caught in his throat again and he forgot to inhale.
The king hurried over and stood before them, grinning. "He sure has grown, hasn't he?" he said.
Everyone nodded and mumbled affirmative responses, trying not to look at Aramis and make it obvious.
The young prince had a toy in his hands and paid them no heed.
"Look," said Louis, jostling him. "These are our favorite musketeers, the bravest in the land. Would you like to say something to them?"
The dauphin looked up then, and smiled shyly. "Hello," he said.
Porthos, hand still holding Aramis' arm, squeezed it in support as they all replied 'hello' back.
"You know that beauty mark that you're so proud of?" Louis said to him. "They'd like to see it."
The dauphin grinned and dropped the toy as if it meant nothing to him, before pulling up his left sleeve and displaying a birthmark on his arm.
King Louis maneuvered his hands without putting the dauphin down to pull up his own left sleeve, displaying the same mark. He then put the boy down and they watched as he picked up his toy and walked a few feet away, sitting down on the floor to play. "You needn't fear me, Aramis," Louis said quietly, so the dauphin wouldn't hear. "The matter is closed, and I apologize again, for what Rochefort put you through."
Porthos had to squeeze Aramis' arm again to get him to answer.
"As I said then, I am your humble servant," Aramis told him, his voice sounding steadier than he felt.
The king smiled. "I know, you've proven it many times over." He looked at the others. "You all have. Now, do as the queen commanded, and go take some much-needed rest."
The four musketeers bowed and turned to leave. As they did, Aramis caught a glimpse of the queen's face, and the stricken expression that she was trying to hide.
Heads held high, they walked out of the room, and the instant the doors closed behind them, Aramis' knees buckled.
Athos and Porthos appeared to expect it, for they both hooked an arm under each of Aramis' almost before he dropped. Even though they knew they were hurting his still-healing wounds, they held on tightly and hefted him upright to walk as normally as he could, not wanting to draw attention to themselves.
Suddenly, they were outside, and Aramis found himself sitting on a bench as the others sat beside him or knelt in front of him.
"Aramis," Athos said, tightly gripping his good wrist. "Aramis, look at me."
Aramis stared at the ground with a dazed expression. "All that…with Rochefort…it was all for nothing…" he whispered. "All of it was for nothing…"
Porthos sighed from where he sat beside his closest friend, arm around his shoulders.
"He's not my son?" Aramis asked, looking at Athos.
"Apparently not," Athos answered. "And I am glad, for your sake."
Aramis closed his eyes.
A hand touched his shoulder. "I'm so sorry," said Treville, whom Aramis hadn't even realized had come with them. "I had no idea that Louis was going to do that. I'm sure that he expected you to be relieved."
Aramis shook his head. "But…but the timing…and she…she said that he was my son…"
"She must've really thought that he was," d'Artagnan said.
Aramis heaved a sigh.
"I know it hurts, Aramis," said Porthos. "But you're better off this way."
Athos looked around to make sure that no one was watching. "We should get back to the garrison, away from prying eyes. Come." With that, he gently pulled Aramis to his feet, being more mindful for his still-healing wounds.
Everyone watched to make sure that Aramis was steady enough to walk, and they slowly headed for their horses.
Aramis was quiet, not even watching where he was going and relying on his friends' direction. He felt completely numb, and didn't even notice that they'd reached the horses until he suddenly found himself sitting atop his own thanks to Porthos.
No one spoke as they rode away, not wanting to bombard Aramis when he was still too stunned to think clearly. They were stunned themselves, and wondered how Aramis was going to deal with the unexpected news. One thing was obvious; life after the war was going to take some getting used to…
TBC