Get your guns

Our time is up, c'mon

Cause now it's time to run

We gotta make it out tonight

Get Your Guns - Jamie Campbell Bower

November brought frost on every surface of Paris, and Iris' training was put on a hold. In the meantime, she kept herself occupied with more physical labour than she had ever done before.

She had improved immensely since their beginning. Finding it easier and easier to keep up with Marsac in a fight, she grew more confident and daring. The change had started to show - when Treville inquired her about it, she simply shrugged and explained how it must be what happened when growing older.

Aramis had also noticed a change in her. For some time he had been closely watching his two friends, trying to discover any signs of something more than friendship between the two of them. However, nothing seemed out of the ordinary, and as they all of a sudden stopped disappearing, he was more confused than ever.

When Treville sent Marsac and two other musketeers away to escort some important nobleman to his home in the country, Aramis took his chance to confront Iris. As the sun one afternoon appeared behind the clouds that had covered Paris like a grey blanket, he asked her to join him for a stroll.

"The sun is becoming a rare sighting - we should take advantage of it," he had argued.

So they had set off through the streets of Paris, every now and then exchanging light banter. Iris glanced at him as they had walked in silence for a few moments, and was surprised to see how serious he had become.

"A penny for your thoughts?" she inquired curiously.

"Can you afford it?" he countered with half a smile that didn't reach his eyes. Iris huffed.

"As a matter of fact, no, but thank you ever so much for reminding me."

They continued in silence, as Aramis again tried to find the courage to share what was on his mind. With any other matter, he would just have blurted it out there and then as he wasn't one to keep quiet. But, for the same reason as he didn't wish to discuss his own relationships, this was not something he wished to converse with her about.

Aramis was aware of his natural charm - sometimes using it to his own advantage. "It's my blessed curse," he would sigh to Marsac after catching the eye of a pretty woman. He was known to be somewhat of a ladies man, but never in his life had he shown any sort of disrespect to a woman. His relations were often based on a mutual attraction - after having felt what true love could be, just nine years prior, it didn't seem like nothing would ever compare.

Iris had been immune to his charms. In fact, she seemed to be immune to everyone who showed any interest towards her. Considering how secretive she was about her past, it only made sense how secretive she was with Marsac. Perhaps it was the age gap between the two of them, but Aramis had only ever seen Iris as a little sister. The mere thought of her being... intimate... with anyone made him uncomfortable and defensive. But seeing how Marsac was his best friend, and obviously cared deeply about her, he would be willing to accept it.

It was because of the brotherly feelings toward her he found it hard to broach the subject.

"This must be a record - I've never seen you go this long without talking," she mused, bringing him out of his thoughts. Taking a deep breath, he went straight to it.

"Iris, I wanted to ask about how you and Marsac disappear every now and then."

The smile on her face faltered.

"Now you mention it; I've been wanting to tell you something for some time now."

"There's no need. I already know."

Iris tensed, and looked at him with worried eyes.

"How could you possibly know?" she demanded. He glanced at her, eyebrows risen.

"You haven't exactly been discreet about it."

She fidgeted nervously, looking almost embarrassed.

"I can only imagine what you must think of me," she began, watching the ground. "Surely you must think that what we do is mad-"

"Not at all!" he insisted. "I've seen how happy it's made you - both of you - and I support it."

Iris came to a stop. When he turned to look at her, he saw relief on her face.

"You have no idea how much it means to hear you say that Aramis."

Aramis moved towards her and placed his hands on her shoulders, looking directly into her eyes.

"As long as he treats you well."

She laughed and shook her head.

"Actually, I'm sure he's been holding back on me. Perhaps there has been a couple of cuts and bruises, but it's nothing I cant handle."

Aramis felt his face go slack, and he stared at her in shock.

"Cuts.. and bruises..."

"He constantly insists on being careful," she continued, oblivious to the reaction on his face. "Honestly, I think I'm ready for something a bit more challenging. Just the other day I managed to disarm him. ME."

She grinned, eagerly waiting for him to join her in her enthusiasm. When he continued to stare shocked at her, she let her head tilt to her side.

"Aramis?"

He opened his mouth to speak, and then shut it again with a frown.

"Did you say disarm?" he asked confused, not quite understanding what was happening. Iris also frowned.

"That is what you call it when one knocks the opponents weapon out of his hand, is it not?"

"It's... are you telling me you and Marsac have been duelling?"

"Of course. What did you think we were doing?" she slowly asked, confusion clouding her eyes.

Aramis felt his face turn red. 'Leave it to you to imagine the worst,' Marsac's words echoed in his head as it dawned on him. The secrecy. They hadn't been running off to be together. He had been teaching her how fight. Of course.

"I thought... well, I didn't expect this," he admitted, letting his hands slide off her shoulders. Iris continued to stare confused at him.

"But you said you knew. You supported it. What did you think was going on?"

Before he could say anything, her eyes opened wide and she looked appalled.

"You thought that we... that Marsac and I-"

"I see now that that is NOT the case," Aramis quickly noted. She shook her head in disbelief.

"I know we've only known each other for a few months, but I see Marsac and yourself as brothers."

"The feeling is mutual," he assured her. She was still shaking her head, as though trying to shake off the very idea.

"At least you didn't propose this insane thought when he was around - could you imagine his reaction?" she rolled her eyes and turned to walk away. Aramis stared at her as she disappeared around a corner and felt compassion for his friend. There was no doubt she didn't feel what he felt for her. But surely she would know of Marsac's feelings. It was clear as day, written on his face whenever she was near.

Either she just doesn't see it, or she is in denial, he thought and made his way back to the garrison. This whole conversation had gone an entirely different place than he had imagined. So help me God, let that be the last time I ever become involved in her love life, he prayed.

That night, Iris had been helping Serge make stock of the garrisons provisions for the winter, when trouble arrived. Both of them looked up at the sound of yelling in the courtyard, and exchanging a look they ran out to see what was happening.

Treville, who had also heard the commotion, thundered down the stairs and ran towards a stranger who held on tightly to another man. The stranger was holding the other man, whom Iris recognised as a musketeer called Blaise, keeping him on his feet. She realised with a gasp that his leather jerkin was soaked with blood.

"... they got into a heated discussion, and before anyone could stop it, one of them fired his pistol," the stranger explained. Treville gave a nod of understanding and turned to Iris who had joined them.

"Iris, go to Aramis. Send him to the infirmary."

"Aramis? What can he-"

"Just hurry!"

She didn't need to hear it again, so she set off down the hall towards Aramis' room. It didn't make sense - Blaise was hurt, they needed to get a surgeon. What good would it do to fetch Aramis?

Knocking on his door, she didn't wait for a reply before opening. He was leaning forward, eyes closed in prayer. In his hands he was holding on tightly to a crucifix. He looked up at the disruption and eyed her curiously.

"I'm sorry, but - it's Blaise. He's been shot."

His eyes turned darker and he released the crucifix from his hands and flew towards his cupboard.

"Do you have a problem with blood?" he asked her, as he rummaged around, throwing stuff onto his floor. The usual order he held was disrupted.

"I suppose not," she said confused, watching as he leapt up, now holding onto a piece of leather, tightly rolled around something.

"Good. I may need your help," he declared and gently pushing her out of his room, he shot the door and took off down the hall. Iris followed him.

When they reached the infirmary, the stranger had left. Treville was standing over Blaise, who had been left on one of the cots. He was sickly pale, and shivering slightly.

Aramis went to his side, and glanced down at the musketeer.

"Didn't you once tell me pistols and wine doesn't do well together?" Aramis mused, as he unfolded the leather roll he had brought from his room. In the flickering light from the fire that lit up the infirmary, Iris saw several instruments, neatly lined.

"Bastard had it coming," Blaise groaned.

"I'm sure he did," Aramis nodded and rolled up his sleeves. Blaise flinched when Aramis gently touched his shoulder, and turned to Iris.

"The ball is still in his shoulder - it will be pretty grim," he announced, looking expectantly at her. Iris walked over to stand on the other side of the cot.

"Don't you worry about me – I can handle it."

"This is all very sweet, but that damn thing is hurting like hell," Blaise muttered between them. Aramis gave him an assuring smile.

"Then you're going to love this," he said as he reached for a bottle that stood on a table behind him. Pouring some of the dark liquid on the wound, Iris watched Blaise flinch in pain. After getting a bowl of water for cleaning the wound as Aramis asked, Iris placed a soothing hand on Blaise's forehead to keep him calm. Aramis was looking intently into the little hole, trying to locate the ball.

"I didn't know you were trained in medication," Iris mumbled after a while. Blaise, who had been given plenty of wine to sedate him, was half asleep on the table. Not breaking his concentration, Aramis shrugged.

"In theory, I'm not. Some time ago I picked up a few tricks, and after helping out in a situation like this I became the unofficial medic of the musketeers."

After removing the ball, and cleaning the blood from Blaise's shoulder, Aramis stitched him up and dressed the wound. Making sure he had regained some colour in his face, they left him to get some rest, promising to return to check on him later.

"You took that better than I would have imagined," he noted as he washed the blood of his hands.

"I'm tougher than I look."

"Right. Part of your training, I believe."

Iris sighed and looked at him apologetically.

"I wasn't sure if you would approve, so I asked Marsac to keep quiet about it."

"Why wouldn't I approve?"

He turned to look at her with a frown. She crossed her arms and glanced around the deserted courtyard.

"It's not exactly the sort of thing women commonly do."

"You're not exactly a common woman."

They stood in silence as he dried his hands, and then he chuckled.

"What?"

"You disarmed Marsac?"

"I did. Sadly, I may just forget everything I learned before we can start again."

"If what you need is a place to practise, I might have an idea."

When Marsac returned from his mission, he was surprised to be greeted by Aramis and Iris who immediately brought him to their new place of training. Aramis knew of an abandoned house in a run-down part of Paris, that would give them shelter from the cold.

It was a two story house, that might have been beautiful once, but certainly didn't show it now. The windows were boarded up and plants covered every wall. To avoid attracting attention, he took them to the back of the house, where a single window, that had been smashed, could give them entrance.

"You want us to climb up there?" Marsac said, gesturing up to the window.

"Are you afraid of heights?" Iris questioned.

"I'm afraid of crushing my skull when I fall."

Aramis tugged at the plants that thickly covered the wall and gave them an assuring smile.

"It's perfectly safe."

Inside, the house was just as damaged as it seemed outside. The walls had cracked and the ceiling above them was falling apart several places.

"How do you know of this place?" Iris asked as she walked around the room. Aramis gave a shrug.

"It's good if you ever need to... get away."

Both of them looked curiously at him, so he quickly continued to speak.

"It's covered and quiet. As good a place as any to take up training again."

A/N

Next chapter brings a bit of action - thanks to everyone who gives this a read, it's much appreciated.

Also, should I stop updating it's because my computer is in a bad place right now. I'm working on getting a new one, so I can continue writing.