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Chapter Four: 15 April 1844 -and- 22 April 1844
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15 April 1844
Because of his hangover the next day, Athos just barely makes it to the college on time to teach his classes.
He sees d'Artagnan, but the younger man acts as if they are merely polite acquaintances and not as if they have known each other for more than 200 years. Normally, they are thick as thieves, but not on this day and he is more than aware that their behavior has not gone unnoticed. Thankfully, his reputation for his crotchety and cantankerous disposition prevents anyone from approaching him about the unusual behavior.
That evening is when he most notices d'Artagnan's absence, making him regret his decision to remain quiet about Les Trois Mousquetaires. It was a rare night that his younger brother did not come over for the evening; at least once or twice a week, d'Artagnan ended up staying the night as well.
Aramis and Porthos seemed to be adapting to this time period better than him and d'Artagnan, and it had been a comfort to be able to share their distaste for many modern inventions and conventions. Thank God for their teaching positions. They were able to keep up their skills for what they seemed born to be – soldiers.
Though, since the Revolution, they had not been too keen on serving in a military that had such a hand in the murder of many of Aramis's descendants*. Aramis had kept track of his descendants, though he had never attempted to interfere in their lives until the Revolution. Having failed to save his family, Aramis had been devastated by their loss. Though others in his line survived, the loss of his direct descendants through his first son with Queen Anne had been difficult to accept. Since then, Aramis had refused to be a soldier or have anything to do with serving the current government, content to be a physician or a priest, depending on where his heart was leading him at the time.
Athos had attempted to get in touch with both Porthos and Aramis, but so far he'd not had any luck. Aramis was off doctoring a poorer section of the city that was dealing with some sort of minor outbreak. His friend would only be available once the danger had passed. Porthos proved he had not lost any of his skills for remaining out of sight of the 'enemy.' He was certain that Porthos was aware by now of the fact that he had three men, assuming Aramis knew of the story, who were quite angry with him.
At one locale, Athos thought that he had beaten Porthos to a possible hideout at a tavern only to find out that he'd missed his friend by a mere fifteen minutes and, surprisingly, d'Artagnan by ten minutes. He'd not been able to track down any more leads since then, and couldn't decide if he was more disappointed to have missed catching up with Porthos or d'Artagnan.
Remaining out of touch for so long suggested that Porthos was quite conscious of the fact that he'd wronged his closest friends and brothers. Athos hoped Porthos would show himself before much more time went by. In his mind, the longer the man stayed away, the more damage it was doing to their brotherhood.
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22 April 1844
After a week, Athos couldn't stand it anymore and headed towards d'Artagnan's small apartment. It wasn't in the nicest part of the city, but d'Artagnan had become more than used to not having much space to himself or even that many possessions to his name.
All those years ago when Labarge had razed d'Artagnan's farm to the ground*, it had left the Gascon with almost nothing in possessions or money, forcing him to get by in life with very little to his name. Living as a soldier for so many decades, in what was often cramped quarters, had made him realize that he didn't need much to have a good life.
Even when he'd been married, possessions did not matter much to him; only his love for his wife was what truly mattered. He'd had Constance and that had been more than enough for him. Everything they had possessed as a married couple Constance had either already owned or they'd bought when the need arose.
Once his wife had passed away, d'Artagnan had sold everything – almost everything. To this day, his brother still had the many letters they had written to each other while he'd been away at war. He also had a few pieces of Constance's jewelry to remember her by, with one piece currently acting as part of a fob for his pocket watch.
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Suddenly and uncharacteristically unsure of himself, Athos stood in front of d'Artagnan's door without knocking for what seemed an age. D'Artagnan had every right to be angry with him. Secrets, even those kept with the best intentions, always came back haunt the one keeping them, and in the long run, they tended to hurt rather than protect. He really had no excuse for what he'd done other than he'd done it in order to spare his brothers any unnecessary pain. He had been protecting them for so long, that he couldn't help but do anything necessary, even at the expense of his own happiness.
Their…conditions and the consequences had already done so much damage to his friend's well-being, his young friend simply hadn't needed a glaring reminder of all the bad times in the form of a roman-feuilleton. Would d'Artagnan accept his apology and forgive him?
Those terrible years they had all spent apart from each other are some of the worst of his life, and he had no desire to repeat any of them just because Porthos had so carelessly used their names and lives for fictional fodder.
He lifted his hand to knock on the door once more; it was probably the fifth or sixth time since he had arrived that he'd done so. Just as he was about to lower his arm again, the door was wrenched open from the inside. Before him stood d'Artagnan, his white shirt untucked, the sleeves rolled up, and his bare feet sticking out from the bottom of the trousers he'd seen d'Artagnan wearing earlier in the day at the college.
As he slowly lowered his hand, d'Artagnan's expression quickly went from utterly blank to exasperated.
"For God's sake, Athos, get in here," d'Artagnan said, stepping forward and grabbing his shoulder to propel him into the apartment.
In great contrast to how his friend had opened the door, d'Artagnan gently closed it. The lean Gascon slipped past him in the narrow hallway and then turned back slightly to gesture Athos forward, ending up in the too-small sitting room.
When he reached the fireplace, he turned and saw that d'Artagnan was standing in the middle of the room with his hands resting on his hips and his head held high. Everything he was going to say fled his mind, but it mattered not as d'Artagnan began to speak.
"I'm surprised you held out this long."
"You are angry – rightfully so. I also wanted to give you some space."
"Our students most definitely noticed. I've lost track of how many of them have asked me about it"—d'Artagnan turned towards a small cabinet sitting under the window, reaching for a crystal decanter, pouring some Armagnac into two glasses, and handing one to him—"To be honest, I think I was more annoyed by that than what you'd done by the time Friday came around."
Athos released a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding, finally able to take a sip of the Armagnac brandy that they both preferred.
He sat in one of the chairs before the fire, his legs feeling a little unsteady. If he was reading his brother right, he was well on his way to being forgiven.
"I understand why you did it; you always feel like you need to protect us but dissention in the ranks has never helped us, Athos. You know this. We've had to endure division before and I would prefer to be united in purpose."—d'Artagnan sat next to him in the room's only other chair—"We need to keep our little family together despite the world changing and growing older without us. As far as we know, we are immortal. I don't want to be alone in this, do you?"
Athos shook his head. "God, no, d'Artagnan."
He took another drink from his glass, draining it. Looking down into it, the firelight made the remnants of the liquid glow within the glass. "I don't ever want to…"
"Me neither, Athos. This why we need to be honest with each other no matter what. We four are all each other has for as long as God deems it so. I can't lose you three – not again."
"I just wanted there not to be conflict amongst us. I thought not knowing would spare you pain."—Athos sighed—"I was wrong and I apologize."
D'Artagnan leaned towards him and stretched out his hand. Athos gripped it and laid his other hand on top of both of theirs for a moment before letting go.
"I apologize as well. I should have given you a chance to explain, but well"—he smiled and shrugged—"you know me—"
"Head over heart, my friend, not the other way around."
"I'm getting better."
"Yes, you are, and it only took you 200 years."
"Hey!"
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To be continued.
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Historical Notes: Chapter Four:
-15 April 1844: Le Siècle published Revue des Théatres instead of the next installment of Les Trois Mousquetaires.
-Aramis's descendants: I am following the television show's conceit that Aramis is the father of Louis XIV, therefore Louis XVI who was King of France at the time of the Revolution (1789-1799), would be a descendant. Louis XVI was executed via guillotine in 1793.
-22 April 1844: Le Siècle published chapter 24 – Le Pavillon (The Pavilion).
- "Labarge had razed d'Artagnan's farm to the ground…": A reference to episode 1.08, The Challenge, of the television series.
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Thanks for reading!