Lessons - Chapter 7
Anonymous asked: "Milathos where kid!d'Artagnan is being asked by Athos if he gives his permission to let Athos propose to Milady"
Further even in the future than the last couple of prompts – this takes place about two and a half years after the first story. It took a while to address this because I had to get enough settled into my head to frame it properly, but at this point I'm not going to try to write in chronological order anymore – I have enough of a timeline and an idea of events to be flexible, which is good.
This prompt was decidedly adorable and a lot of fun – thanks for leaving it, anon!
It takes over a year, and reaching the point where he's spending more nights at their home than his own flat, before Olivier begins to seriously consider where this relationship is going. And once he realises that he wants all of this – wants Anne in his life in a way he's never wanted to promise anyone before, but also this family of hers, Charles' easy acceptance and affection, Richelieu's occasional sharp glances tempered by the way he makes space for Olivier. They're a tremendous part of Anne's life and he'd love them for that alone, but they've welcomed him and that means immeasurably more.
To take that next step makes sense, and yet he hesitates. Part of it is the fear that she won't want anything so permanent – after all, she's been perfectly content to raise Charles as a single mother for the better part of nine years. But he's also wary of disrupting the balance of the household (and the balance between them), and most wary of Charles. He may be precocious but he's only ten, and Olivier wants to make sure the boy knows he's not trying to replace even the memory of his father.
Eventually, he realises – awkward as it will doubtless be – that he needs to talk to Charles first.
He gets his chance unexpectedly, when he shows up early for a Saturday outing to find Anne on the phone with the office. She grimaces when he shoots her a curious look, mouths 'I don't know' to his query of how long, and so he just heads out to the yard. Charles is picking the last of the winter pears, standing on tiptoe to reach, and he whirls with a brilliant smile when Olivier pulls one of the branches lower to make it easier on him.
"I'm glad it's just us right now, because I have an important question for you," he says when they've finished and the pears are safely stowed in a basket. Charles looks at him, large dark eyes suddenly serious, but he just waits expectantly and so Olivier continues. "Your mother and I have been seeing each other for a year and a half now, and I care about her a very great deal. I want to ask her to marry me." Too blunt, probably, but all of his experience with children has nevertheless left him woefully unprepared for discussions like this. "But first I wanted to ask you whether it was alright with you if I did."
No response at first, just a solemn ten-year-old looking at him – studying, considering, weighing – with an expression far older than his years. After what feels like an eternity, Charles frowns. "Why are you asking me?"
Olivier sits, putting them at eye level. "Because I know that you're the most important person in Anne's life. If I asked her to choose between us it would be horrid and unfair, and that's what asking her would be if you weren't alright with the idea of her marrying again."
He nods slowly, evidently digesting that. Charles may be impulsive most of the time, but as he's grown older he's started learning that major discussions require thought. Right now, though, Olivier's missing the impetuous boy; the lack of an answer is surprisingly nerve-wracking.
"Do you love her?" he finally asks.
He knows the answer – has even said it before, and yet to give it voice here in the daylight carries a finality absent when he's whispered it against Anne's hair in the darkness of the bedroom. But he knows, and it clearly matters to Charles, and so he says, past the sudden tightness in his throat, "I do. Very much." More than he'd imagined possible when they first met, that day in the schoolyard. More, he thinks, than he's loved anyone in his life.
That frown doesn't change, though, even as Charles settles into the other chair. "Can I think about it?"
As much as he hates to do so, Olivier nods. There's a reason he asked, after all, and if Charles needs time to sort through this then he'll find the patience. Anne – and everything else – is worth it. "As long as you need."
The waiting is still agony. When Charles finally – finally! – sticks his head around Olivier's classroom door the following Friday, as he's packing up, Olivier is half-convinced that he's going to say no. But the boy just pulls the door closed behind him, marches up until he's standing in front of Olivier's desk, and looks him square in the eye. "Okay."
"Okay?"
"Okay," Charles repeats. "Because you make Maman happy. I like seeing her happy. And because you're already almost part of our family, so it's alright."
And then the serious expression melts into a brilliant smile, and Olivier groans, reaching out to ruffle the boy's hair. "You had me worried there."
There's an unrepentant gleam in Charles' eyes, but by the time he puts his hair to rights and Olivier closes his bag, he mostly just looks happy. "I hope Maman says yes."
"Me too, kid," Olivier says as they head out, slinging a companionable arm around the boy's shoulders. "Me too …"
Endnotes: As always, this 'verse can be found on my Tumblr (myalchod) under the tag "d'artagnan you little punk". XD My askbox there is always open for prompts and questions.