Two weeks later, Luke and Celeste storm into the kitchen with faces like thunder. They slam a letter down in front of Aramis.

"It's unbelievable Papa!" Celeste all but shouts, throwing her hands up in the air. Aramis looks at her, trying not to laugh, and avoids looking at Porthos, who is also trying really hard not to laugh. "Exams are in two weeks- and they are expecting us to go to some stupid career convention?"

"They are only mocks, Celeste," Aramis tries to reason with her, but he just gets death glares from the two teens. He promptly shuts up.

"What's worse is that they are asking us to provide people for the damn thing! Shouldn't the school be doing that if they want to run the bloody event?" Luke questions, and Porthos doesn't think he's ever seen someone peel an orange so aggressively.

"Well, I wouldn't mind helping out-" Aramis starts but the two of them cut him off.

"Aramis," they deadpan, perfectly in sync, and Porthos has to stick his tongue in his cheek to stop laughing.

"What? Journalism is a cool industry -"

"They have journalists already. You are not a journalist- you just draw the political cartoons with shitty jokes."

"Language!" Porthos says, covering Nannette's ears, and telling off Luke.

"My jokes are hilarious."

"They are dad jokes," Celeste says, unimpressed. She shows it by crossing her arms.

"They get published so they must be good," Aramis mimics her by crossing his arms. Leon snorts beside him.

"Touché," Celeste says, and Luke is staring at Porthos.

"Porthos what do you do?" the boy asks, and Porthos flushes. He doesn't have a job at the moment.

"Unremarkably unemployed," he says, hoping to get them off his case. But then Celeste gasps.

"But you were a soldier!" She says, and Luke smiles. "I'm pretty sure they don't have a soldier."

"Celeste-" Aramis warns. Aramis made it clear to them that he wouldn't go and talk to other people about being a soldier, but he will answer their own questions truthfully. He doesn't get too many questions any more. He looks at Porthos, whose expression has turned grim.

"Let's go for a walk," he says to Celeste and Luke- he doesn't want any chance of the younger ones hearing- they are too young for that. He doesn't sound like he's allowing any room for argument, but he still looks to Aramis, who nods that it's okay.

The three of them head out together, Celeste on his left and Luke on his right. They all have their hands stuffed in their pockets- the mildness of October has made way for a bitterly cold November.

"I'm sure Aramis has asked you not to ask him to speak about his time in the army in front of others?" Porthos asks, and the two children nod. Luke just about comes up to his shoulder- he's a little smaller than Aramis still, and Celeste is about a head and a half smaller than Luke. She looks tiny next to Porthos.

"Did you ever ask him why?" Porthos asks, and they both shake their heads.

"A lot of soldiers aren't proud of what they've done to protect their country," he says, and he notices how the two of them are looking intently at him while he stares ahead. "They may not regret it, but hurting other people is not something to be proud of. Not even when you disagree whole-heartedly with their morals, because you've got to remember the fall out. The people- the sisters, mothers, brothers, fathers, children- who get left behind." Celeste is pointedly looking at her toes. Luke is still staring at him as they turn the corner. "Even if you think those people will be better off without the person you just," he swallows, "hurt," he decides is the best word to pick, "they may have loved them, and you took them away." Celeste purses her lips and Luke blinks at him. They walk in silence for a bit.

"So you see why I don't want to tell young kids that they should join the army," Porthos says, and the two children nod.

"It's not so great," Luke says.

"It's a lot to deal with," Celeste adds, "especially at a young age."

"Eighteen is barely old enough to contemplate life and death in its entirety for a lot of people," Porthos says, "so the choice of taking a life…" he trails off as someone walks past the three of them.

"Yeah," Celeste says quietly, and that's seems to be the end of conversation. They make it back to the house, and while Celeste rings on the doorbell, Luke asks him a question that Porthos hasn't thought about the answer to in a very long time.

"What would you like to do?"

Porthos thinks hard, and as Aramis opens the door, he looks down at Luke.

"I'd like to play the piano, I think," Porthos says, and Aramis beams.