Disclaimer & Spoilers: See Chapter One.
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Timeline: Prequel; Takes place several years before the events in Stitches (Chapter Six).
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"What happens if, too early, we lose a parent – that party on whom we rely for everything? What did these…"
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Chapter Seven: Answered Prayers
"When he'd been younger, he recalled asking his mother for a sibling, the woman smiling indulgently at him as she explained that it was God's choice, and it would happen if He willed it."
~~~~~ Chapter 7 of "Family" by Celticgal1041.
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As she sat polishing the silver candlesticks that had been a wedding present from her parents, Françoise heard a sigh emanating from the other room. She couldn't help but smile at the sound, knowing that it would not be the last time she would hear it in the coming days.
Her son was only a few months past five years old, and she and Alexandre had started to give him simple chores to do, such as feeding the chickens and collecting their eggs. However, her little one had not been satisfied with what he had been given to do. His desire to be of use and help the father he idolized was growing day by day, and he seemed all too eager for his carefree childhood days to end and be replaced with the hardships of working a farm.
Alexandre had indulged their boy's whims somewhat, but there was little else their son could do when he was still so small that wouldn't endanger his life beyond what his parents were comfortable with. Françoise knew that other families put their children to work at the same young age, but those families had multiple children, whereas she and her husband had only been blessed with one child thus far. Neither she nor Alexandre could bear the thought of their one and only child killed in a senseless farming accident, something that was all too common throughout the province.
Another sigh floats upon the air towards her. This sigh sounded different; it indicated her son's boredom so clearly that she fears that he would do something rash to alleviate it. Françoise remembered the day just last week when her little one had attempted to feed the pigs without permission or help. Losing his balance, he had toppled over the fence and into the muddy pen. A couple of her husband's workers had seen Charles fall and had rescued him before too much damage could be done besides some bruising from the fall itself and when a couple of the larger, heavier pigs had stepped on him. It was enough to scare several years off of her life, and because the boy hated being stuck indoors with a passion, Alexandre had confined their son to the house as part of his punishment.
Françoise quickly finished with polishing the silver and set the candlesticks back upon the mantel of the fireplace. She had a list of household chores the length of her arm and tried to intersperse some of the easier, almost relaxing, ones throughout her day.
Using the simplest phrasing possible, she called her son over in French and explained that the two of them would be going outside to collect the washing. If he strayed from her side for any reason, then his punishment would be doubled. Charles haltingly asked a couple of clarification questions, still unused to the new language that he had been learning for the past several months, but nodded his acceptance quickly, looking happy at the idea of being outside for a few minutes.
Alexandre wanted his son to be raised a gentleman in deference to her noble roots, and Françoise had begun teaching Charles the French language as part of that education, knowing that speaking only Gascon would ultimately prove a costly hindrance for him in later life. Soon she would start teaching him how to read and write, but for now, she thought getting a handle on speaking the language was more important.
While gathering the laundry and folding it neatly into the large basket she had brought outside with her, Françoise asked her son questions in French, reminding him to answer en français more than once. It was difficult sometimes to not laugh at the strange combination of the two languages spoken when Charles forgot the right word or phrase. She gently corrected him and helped him add to his growing vocabulary.
About half way through their task, Charles surprises her with a question she did not expect. This question was asked more in Gascon than French, but she definitely got the gist of what he was trying to say.
Her little one asked if he could have a sibling.
At first, Françoise did not know how to answer. The one and only time she had conceived a child had ended with a difficult birthing and longer than average recovery. The midwife had told her that she might have problems conceiving another child, and so far, the Madame's prediction seemed to be proving true. No matter what was tried, Françoise could not get pregnant.
When she thought about it too much, she was saddened that her dream of a house full of children had not come to fruition. Equally, she felt shame that she could not produce more children, but that blow had been softened by the fact that she'd had a son to carry on the d'Artagnan name. At least in that, she had not been a failure.
At this point, she did not think God would ever bless her with another child, and tried not to think about how so many children rarely made it to the age of majority. Her son already got into so many scrapes and it seemed he was not afraid of anything. She couldn't bear the thought of ever losing him to death and prayed every night for his safety, health, and happiness.
But how does a mother explain any of that to a child who was still so young?
So that there would be no misunderstandings, she eventually tells him her answer in Gascon. Whether or not he got a sibling was entirely up to God. It would happen if and when He willed it to be so.
That night, when she directed him in saying his prayers in French, Françoise heard Charles sneak in a sentence partly in Gascon about his desire for a sibling but especially for a brother. She had smiled at his attempts and made sure to teach him the words in French.
That night, she found that her own prayers had changed. They had gone from asking for another child to humbly requesting that her son's prayers for a brother would be answered.
Françoise dies before she can see that God had answered her prayers – but not in the way she had originally hoped. She never knows that her son's prayers are also eventually answered, and likewise not in a way that Charles had expected or had even dared to hope for.
She doesn't get to see her beloved son become like an older brother to two boys from a nearby farm. The three boys shared a deep friendship, a strong bond of brotherhood which lasted until her son's friends, Alric and Mattias, were murdered by bandits. Their deaths had devastated Charles, who had decided then to give up on the idea of brothers, accepting that having them just wasn't meant to be.
Her only son would have to wait what would seem like an eternity before he was set on a path which was torn between justice and revenge.
A path that would lead him towards his true brothers.
However, as Charles set out on a mission to retrieve the criminal Bonnaire, neither he nor the three Musketeers he traveled with had yet to realize that fact.
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The end.
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A/N: Just in case it's not widely known… The real-life d'Artagnan's mother was named Françoise.
Next time: Chapter Eight: Obvious Care
Thanks for reading!