A/N: I'd just like to apologise for the length of time it has taken to update. I've had internet-related issues, namely being completely without internet for over a week and then RL went and did a real number on me. Still, it is done now and I promise that I won't take so long to update the next chapter!
Chapter Two
"Forgive me, I didn't realise that the word 'hospital' was written above my husband's door!"
Constance Bonacieux rested her hands on her hips and looked sternly at the men in front of her. As if she didn't have enough to do without those four rogues at her door wanting help every five minutes. It was like having three more brothers to take care of - and she still hadn't quite figured out how to accurately categorise d'Artagnan's place in her heart. Or at least, she still wasn't quite brave enough to do so. Not aloud, anyway.
"I didn't know what else to do. She needs help and I know how good you are at helping people," d'Artagnan said, looking down at her with wide, puppy-dog eyes. Constance pouted slightly. It wasn't fair that he looked at her like that, he knew that it instantly made her forget how annoyed she was with him.
"You know how much of a fool I am, you mean!" she said, turning her back on him.
Constance now turned her attention to Sophie, who was barely conscious and held easily in Porthos' big, strong arms. There was no danger of him dropping her, Aramis would never have entrusted Sophie to anyone else. Porthos had carried heavier weights than Sophie during battle, but since the moment he picked her up, his entire demeanour changed, as though Aramis had entrusted him with the entire riches of France. As a result, and although she didn't know it at the time, Sophie could not have been in a safer place than in Porthos' arms. Constance couldn't help but notice how upset Aramis was and how fiercely Athos was staring at the floor.
"What happened to her?" she asked, her eyes full of concern.
"She was attacked by three men," Athos said. Constance's eyes widened.
"Then for heaven's sake, get the poor woman into bed! She's been through enough. Bring her in here, Porthos!" she called over her shoulder as she made her way into her own bedroom. "My husband is away on business, she'll stay here until she's better."
"She can't stay here for long. She has a message for Her Majesty," Athos said.
"I don't care if she's got a message for the Pope from God himself! She's staying here until she's better," Constance insisted. Athos looked a little surprised at Constance's outburst, but said nothing. "Who is she, anyway?"
"Her name is Sophie," Aramis said, his eyes glossy with tears and his voice cracking slightly with emotion. Constance stared at him, expectantly. "She's an old friend." Constance folded her arms and raised her left eyebrow.
"I'm sure she is," she said, dryly.
Porthos laid Sophie gently onto the bed and made sure her head was well supported with pillows before stretching her arms and legs out to make her comfortable. He took two steps back and squeezed Aramis' arm comfortingly. Aramis looked up at him and forced a rueful smile, which was the best he could muster. Constance sighed and shook her head.
"I promise she'll be all right. I'll take care of her," she said, stroking Aramis' arm. He nodded, unable to take his gaze away from Sophie. "She needs rest, that's the best medicine for her right now. I'll clean her up and get her into some more appropriate clothes," she said, running the fabric of Sophie's jacket between her thumb and first two fingers. "Does anyone know why she's dressed as a boy?"
"She didn't say," d'Artagnan said. "We assume it's something to do with the message she has for Her Majesty."
"So she's a spy?" Constance asked.
"We don't know," Aramis said, shrugging helplessly. "She... left our company as quickly as she entered it," he explained, casting a meaningful glance at Athos, who stared back at him unflinchingly.
"What did you do?" Constance said, turning to Athos. He looked back at her.
"The woman has message for the Queen. Her Majesty's life could very well depend upon it," he answered.
Constance was used to Athos' complete avoidance of subjects he had no intention of discussing, but this time was different. A woman had been attacked and needed help, and rather than show any degree of concern for her, Athos acted as though she was a complete inconvenience, no matter how much his behaviour visibly upset Aramis. His actions were wholly unlike him. He would do anything for his friends, but he would never purposely act in a way that would hurt any of them. The fact that he couldn't even bring himself to look at Sophie lying on the bed, her breathing shallow, bruising appearing on her face before their very eyes, dried blood caked around her mouth, puzzled Constance. Athos had seen people in worse states than this before, she knew that. He was a soldier. He had seen men die. Friends. Brothers. He was not squeamish in any way. It wasn't as though he had beaten Sophie himself, he would never treat a woman in that way. His reaction was altogether bewildering.
"This poor woman," she said, pointing at Sophie, "is not leaving this house until she is fit and well. If you are so concerned about the message, then I suggest that you deliver it yourself." Athos looked at her, his lips pinched into something resembling a scowl.
"We can't just walk into the palace and demand to see the Queen!" d'Artagnan protested. Aramis frowned at the floor, deep in thought for a few moments, before looking up at Porthos.
"There must be a way," he said, hopefully.
"Can you think of anything?" Porthos asked. Aramis paused for a moment, took the cross that the Queen had given to him and kissed it jubilantly.
"She did say it would keep me safe, didn't she?"
"Was this before or after The Stare?" Porthos asked. Aramis grinned and winked at Porthos but didn't answer.
"Let me get this straight," d'Artagnan said, holding one hand up and pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger of his other hand. "You're going to charm your way in to see Her Majesty?" Aramis clamped his hand on d'Artagnan's arm.
"Each man must play to his own strengths. Can I help it if mine is charm?" he asked with a smile.
"It certainly isn't modesty," Constance muttered, just loud enough for them to hear. Porthos let out a loud and hearty laugh at her retort while Aramis held up his hands in defeat, smiling wryly. His facial expression dropped as he walked over to Constance and took hold of each of her hands gently.
"Promise me you won't let any harm come to Sophie?" he asked, seriously. Constance looked back into his eyes and could see the distress in his expression. She nodded.
"I'll stay with her every minute," she promised. Athos cleared his throat before joining in the conversation.
"I'll stay," he decided. Aramis turned and looked at him in vague disbelief. "If someone is intent for her to not make it to the Queen, then there is a chance we may have been followed. It would be unwise for us to leave Madame Bonacieux and the mademoiselle alone," he said. Aramis frowned at him doubtfully and Athos lowered his head slightly as he looked directly into Aramis' eyes. "She will be safe," he promised, his voice dropping to a low murmur as he gently placed his hand on Aramis' arm. Aramis paused and nodded. He turned to Constance and tipped his hat, then without any further ceremony, he left with d'Artagnan and Porthos.
Athos sat at the kitchen table, staring solidly at a knot in the wood, while Constance prepared a bowl of water and a damp cloth.
"I can take care of myself, you know," she said, breaking the tense silence.
"Was that ever in doubt?" Athos asked, not moving his head but looking up at her.
"You don't have to stay."
There was a pause while Athos carefully considered his response. "Yes I do."
His tone was low and even, yet something in his manner told Constance not to argue with him. She set the bowl of water down on the table and reached a hand across to touch Athos' hand.
"It isn't your fault," she said, her voice soft and kind. Athos didn't answer but lowered his head to indicate the end of the conversation.
Without pushing for further dialogue, which she knew would have been pointless to even attempt, Constance went into the bedroom and began to tend to Sophie's wounds. When the lukewarm water came into contact with Sophie's wrists, she murmured faintly and, as Constance patted the cloth on her forehead, she opened her eyes.
"Hello, there. You certainly had us worried," Constance told her, smiling kindly. Sophie frowned and swallowed.
"Where am I?" she asked, her voice hoarse.
"My name is Constance. Aramis and his friends brought you here to my husband's house where you'll be safe."
"Where is he?"
"He's gone to the palace to deliver your message."
"Message?"
"Apparently you had a message for the Queen."
"Yes. I do. I should go," Sophie decided, forcing herself to sit up. Constance put her hand on Sophie's shoulder.
"No. You should rest," she answered, kindly but firmly. "You need food, sleep and some proper clothes. Although if you hadn't had such tight binding around you, I'm afraid you would have been in an even worse state than you are now," she added. Sophie looked down and saw that her jacket and shirt had been removed so that Constance could clean her wounds, but that the binding around her chest was still intact.
"Thank you."
"You're very welcome," Constance said, smiling at Sophie. She quietly continued cleaning Sophie's wounds as Sophie started to fall asleep again. "I think you worried Athos," she said, in a low voice. Sophie's eyes snapped open.
"Athos?" she repeated, her cheeks flushing slightly at the mention of his name. She didn't know why Athos' reaction or opinion mattered to her. After all, he had been nothing but rude to her, from the way he looked at her to the way he spoke to her. Yet when he had looked at her, something in his eyes had burned deep into her soul, which had caught her completely off-guard, momentarily taking her breath away and making her heart beat a little faster. She couldn't help but hope she would see him again, and perhaps those eyes would gaze deeply into her soul once more.
"He isn't as... Athos... as he seems," Constance finally answered. She had used his name as an adjective for years. There was never really anything more appropriate to describe his surly, arrogant, cold and cynical outer shell. The man underneath had a gentle heart and a fierce loyalty, she knew that. That side of him wasn't hidden too deeply, but it was a side that strangers rarely saw of him.
"He is with Aramis?" she asked. Constance shook her head.
"No. He's in the kitchen. He offered to stay behind in case we needed protection."
"I don't need protection."
"Neither do I. He knows that. But I know that if Athos is here, nothing bad will happen. You need to know that too, because you need to concentrate on getting better, not worrying about those people finding you again," Constance said. Sophie nodded and closed her eyes again before drifting back to sleep. Constance smiled softly to herself as she left the room.
Athos sat at the table, still staring solidly at the knot in the wood. He should not have been so brusque with Sophie. If he had been more pleasant, if he had tried to be less protective of Aramis, perhaps she would have stayed with them a little longer. Maybe only another five minutes, but long enough to avoid those men altogether. Long enough so that she would have made it safely to the Queen with her message. As a result of his behaviour, Aramis was worried sick, his three friends had had to go to the palace themselves to try and get an impromptu audience with the Queen - and Sophie was lying in Constance's bed, lucky to be alive.
Constance had said that it wasn't his fault, but how could he believe her? How could that be true? She wasn't there, she didn't know, she didn't understand how he had acted. It was inexcusable, it was rude, it was not the way he had been brought up to treat people. He had accused her of being a thief and a liar and had entirely forgotten that he was a gentleman in his haste to presume the worst of her.
She had been loved by Aramis, and clearly Aramis still felt a great deal of affection towards her. Aramis had a reputation for being a great lover of women, and that this was often misconstrued for him viewing women as little more than bedfellows and serving-wenches. However, Athos knew that in truth, Aramis was a genial, compassionate, kind-hearted soul who simply understood and enjoyed the company of women. As the woman who held such a singular place in Aramis' heart, Sophie must have been the one who had helped to shape his views on the entire sex. By comparison, Athos' views on women had been largely shaped by his own wife, Anne. He closed his eyes and forced himself to stop thinking of her almost as soon as he had started. It was too early in the day and he was too sober to deal with her memory.
There was something about Sophie that he had admired. The fire in her eyes, her stubbornness. The way her chin tilted in defiance when she spoke. There was something else, too. He could not quite define what it was. There was an easy gentleness about her, she had her own unique charm. Her eyes sparkled with life and she seemed to care little about what other people thought of her. The way his stomach churned as he saw her battered and broken body on the cobbled street as though she was a discarded toy.
He recognised the feelings that were coming up into his heart and he shook his head vigorously, as if that action would literally shake his thoughts out of his ears. He could ill afford feelings of that nature. The Queen's life was potentially in danger. Sophie herself still had a job to do to protect the Queen, as did he. The last thing he needed was to complicate matters by allowing his heart to rule his head. He had learned from experience how badly emotions tended to get in the way of duty.
"I've never known anyone find our kitchen table so fascinating," Constance said, breaking the heavy silence as she walked into the room. Athos looked up at her.
"How is Sophie?" he asked. It had been the first time he had called Sophie by her name since they had rescued her and, to his abject dismay, he found that he liked the way her name felt on his tongue.
"She's asleep now. But she'll be fine. She just needs rest."
Athos nodded and looked back down at the table.
"I acted out of turn," he said. Constance pursed her lips for a few moments, unsure of what to say.
"I wonder how Aramis and the others are faring?" she asked, deciding that the best course of action would be to follow Athos' example and change the subject. The right side of Athos' mouth twitched into a smirk.
"Doubtless, they will be getting into far more trouble than they need to," he said, his eyes twinkling as he imagined their escapades. Constance couldn't help but chuckle at her own imagination of the scene.
Of course, neither of them had any way of knowing that Athos' prediction could not possibly have been more accurate.
