"You'll never desert me," Aramis said. His words were spoken with conviction, causing his brothers to wonder if he was fully awake, or still seeing his dream.
"Aramis," Athos said, speaking softly so as not to startle him. "Of course we will never desert you. You are our brother."
Aramis, eyes still completely unfocused in his blindness, didn't reply at first. Then, he almost whispered, "I know," and if his brothers were listening before, they now became even more intent.
Aramis spoke again. "I saw you."
"Where, Aramis?" Porthos asked. "Where did you see us? Can you tell us, please?"
"Savoy," the single word causing a shudder to rack his whole body.
"The s..snow was covering m..e. I..hurt. I th..thought I..I was going to d..die," his stutter betraying the force of the emotions coursing through him.
They kept silence, allowing him to proceed at his own pace. Their hands reached to hold his.
"M..Marsac deserted me. I..I was alone w..with t..twenty dead M..Musketeers. N..No one came for a l..long time. I..I w..was giving up," stumbling over his words in his recounting.
B..but then, I h..heard my name. F..Far off. I..I thought I d..dreamed it. B..But it came again…nearer." His voice was a little stronger now, and his stutter now disappeared.
"You…" he halted as the force of his emotions overcame him.
"Yes, Aramis," came the gently spoken prompt from Athos. They were all intently engrossed in his sharing, needing to hear what he was seeing in his mind's eye.
"I saw you…bending over me. I wasn't alone any more. My brothers…came for me," he finally got out, squeezing their hands, tears streaming down his face. "I know what you look like now. I know m..my brothers."
With his memory's return, he instinctively knew which brothers had hold of each of his hands. Gently disengaging his from Athos' clasp, he felt over their heads, seeking his missing brother's hand to share the moment with him, too. D'Artagnan, realizing what he was doing, eagerly took it.
The emotion in the room felt ready to burst. Athos, Porthos and d'Artagnan's hearts were bursting with the joy they experienced at that moment. Their dearest wish had come true.
Aramis was silent for some time, and his brothers just waited patiently, giving him the time he needed to process his turbulent emotions.
"Why couldn't I remember before?" Aramis asked "How could I not know you when you mean so much to me?"
Athos replied, "That is something none of us may ever know, Aramis. Even doctors do not understand the mind at times. You can thank God for His gift," knowing how strong his brother's faith was, even though his own was not.
"And why," he continued, "didn't my sight…," halting when he felt Porthos' big hand cover his once more. "It'll come, mon ami. These things come when it's time. Just be glad right now you got your memory back, like we are."
None of them voiced the fear they were just realizing to him. If his sight didn't come back, he wouldn't be able to stay in the regiment, as a blind man couldn't function as a soldier. But at the same time, they were now highly hopeful again, since his memory had come back. So, since he lost both of them from the same tragic circumstances, wouldn't his ability to see return, as well?
Aramis' eyelids were beginning to droop again. When they saw this, Porthos pulled the blanket over him, Athos saying, "Rest, Aramis. We will talk more about this at our midday meal. Outside?"
Aramis' eagerly nodded, and they all smiled as in the next moment, those drooping eyelids shut.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Midday came, and as Aramis had indeed awakened in time, they headed out of the infirmary towards their table.
Aramis, hearing two voices near him, called out, "Thierry, Georges, has your aim improved yet?"
Startled, the men named then realized Aramis had recognized their voices. Excited now they called out to a group near the gates, "Hey, Aramis knows us!"
Aramis was suddenly surrounded by all of them, being clapped on the back and told how happy they were to know his memory had returned.
Even though it had, the blindness caused him to tense up when he was hemmed in, albeit joyfully and eagerly so, and his brothers could feel it.
"Albert, Raoul, lead this pack back to their training, eh?" Porthos jokingly dispersed the men.
They continued on to their table, where Serge brought out big bowls of chicken stew, thick slices of fresh-baked bread and for Aramis only, an apple/cherry tart. He had heard the men rejoicing, and wanted something special for 'his favorite'. As before, Porthos growled in frustration, and Aramis just grinned, before eating the whole tart enthusiastically.
Treville, who had been on business at the palace since sunup, rode in and saw the smiles and laughter. Knowing how painful Aramis' situation had been for all of them, he he dismounted and headed over to their table, curious.
"Athos," Treville started to say, only to see Aramis turn around and exclaim, "Captain!"
For him to recognize his captain's voice after only uttering one word, Treville had the answer to his unspoken question answered. "Your memory came back!"
Aramis grinned and answered, "It did indeed, Captain!"
Porthos, enjoying the light mood and spirit, added, "Not that there was much in there to come back!"
Everyone roared at that one, and Aramis' heart was full to bursting at the return of the love and brotherhood of his friends surrounding him. And of his captain, who had mentored him since he had been barely into manhood yet.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxx
At a hunting lodge some distance from Paris, the nobleman from the tavern sat alone, drinking. Looking up at a painted portrait on the wall, he said aloud to the empty room, "Why did he have to take you away from me? I hope his life is as miserable now as mine has become every time he gazes at his friend."
Continuing to drown his sorrow, he began again, talking once again to the portrait, "My men will keep the garrison under surveillance. I never want to get a report of a smile on his face again. He deserves a hole in his heart that is filled only with sorrow, as mine has become. If he is ever content again, death will wipe it away forever."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
After their midday meal, Athos surprised Aramis by asking if he would like to take a walk in the city. Aramis hesitated, not sure since he couldn't see and concerned about being around so many people.
When he finally voiced his concern, they reassured him that they would be on either side of him, d'Artagnan telling him that he would walk ahead of them and 'clear the way'.
Aramis, remembering how much he used to take walks, had been slightly embarrassed to share his hesitation with them. How could he have such a fear when he was a soldier in the King's Musketeers? They understood, though, telling him it was only natural for him to feel that way.
He let them talk him into it then. Maybe it would be good for him to use his other senses to 'see' what his eyes could not.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
An hour later, they left the garrison through the gates, Athos with a hand clasping his elbow on his left, Porthos doing the same on his right. D'Artagnan walked several steps ahead of him, true to his word, politely but insistently clearing a way for them.
It took a little while, but Aramis finally began to relax and enjoy himself. His hearing picked up sounds he recognized. Children at play. Men thanking a customer for a sale at shop doors. A flower girl calling out her wares: 'a pretty bouquet for Madame? '
Porthos got an idea, and pointed to the vender carts they were approaching. They stopped at one, and Aramis recognized the apple vendor's voice.
"Mattieu! Do you have a juicy big one for me today?"
The vendor turned and recognized him. "Monsieur Aramis!"
Then, he noticed how Aramis didn't look him in the eye, and Athos and Porthos holding on to to his arms to guide him. Porthos saw the moment the vendor figured out what was wrong, and forestalled him, saying, "How about that one," pointing out a delicious-looking apple to the left in his cart, and at the same time shaking his head in warning to the vendor.
The vendor, understanding, put the apple into Aramis' hand, closing the marksman's fingers around it with a gentle touch, his eyes now saddened as he looked at his long-time favorite customer as they walked away.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
They enjoyed the rest of their outing, Aramis munching his apple while he listened to the sounds around him. Sometimes, he would stop and reach out to touch something he brushed against or heard, curiosity getting the better of him. A cart full of lengths of cloth that felt luxurious under his fingers. A dog that insistently kept barking near his leg.
His brothers were content to see him enjoying himself, while at the same time watchful that no pickpockets or former adversaries of theirs were in the vicinity. They did, though, from time to time glance over at their brother, fervently hoping that his sight was not lost to him forever. What would he do with life in that event? Leave the garrison? How would he get by?
But they were unaware of several sets of eyes that followed their every movement, as the men weren't residents of Paris and weren't known to them.
"The master will be pleased with the sad glances his friends had turned towards their former captive. It won't heal his own heart, but it will ease his pain a bit."
