And after a year, we have reached the final chapter! Thank for those who have waited patiently for me to post again after six months, and for anyone new; I hope you have enjoyed!
Very glad to have shared this with you, and I have really enjoyed your feedback. Thank you.
Twas The Night...
Chapter Seven– The Brightest Dawn
"He's not anywhere in the Garrison!" Porthos declared, as he rushed to meet Aramis and D'Artagnan in the middle of empty yard of the Musketeer Garrison, as the clock chimed closer to Mid-Day that Christmas.
"Damn it." Aramis growled, running his fingers through his hair. "We've been searching all over Paris since Dawn. Athos is nowhere to be found! I'm beginning to fear for him."
"Surely it's just a hangover. He'll sleep it off somewhere and he'll come find us later." D'Artagnan said, frowning.
Aramis gave the younger Musketeer a hopeless side-long look; "You don't quite understand, my young friend. The last time Athos was like this…it was five years ago on Christmas Eve…and he nearly threw himself in the Seine River."
D'Artagnan swallowed hard, the implications hanging thickly in the air. "You don't think he'd…?" He didn't finish. He couldn't finish that. There was surely no way that Athos would take his own life, not after he'd come so far.
"Now you can understand why we're worried." Aramis replied, placing his hat back on his head. "Damn it, I should have stayed with him, regardless of what he wanted."
"Look, I know we've been pretty pre-occupied with Athos." Porthos spoke up again, "But I couldn't help…where's the bloody table!?"
It was just then, that the Trio noticed that table in which they Four Inseparables usually resided beneath Treville's Office was actually missing also.
"Red Guards." Aramis said, dryly. "Must be getting us back for the year we stole one of their helmets and put it on the roasted pig for Christmas Dinner."
"The Red Guard have gone too far stealing that table!" The Giant Musketeer bellowed, angrily. "That is crossing a line that they can never step back from!"
"One problem at a time, Porthos, let's find Athos first!" Aramis insisted, patting him on the back. "And then we'll solve the mystery of the missing table."
"Merry Christmas."
All three of them looked around, finding Athos standing in the arch of the Musketeer Garrison. It was as if he had been summoned. And much to their disturbance…he was smiling.
"Where the hell have you been!?" Porthos bellowed, charging forward. If Athos had been afraid that the Mountain of Man was going to react badly, he was caught by surprise when Porthos instead grabbed him by the collar of his jerkin and hauled him in for a bear hug.
Given that Noelle confirmed that he did, in fact, have a couple of cracked ribs beneath a swell of bruising; it hurt. And Athos was unable to hold back the yelp of pain that escaped him.
"What is it? Where are you hurt? What happened?" Aramis' questions shot from his mouth one after the other, faster than a ball leaving it's musket. He quickly rushed over to the older Musketeer, his eyes – life now returned to them – scanning over his body.
"I'm fine!" Athos insisted, as he stepped back from Porthos, although gripping the Giant Musketeer's shoulder for support hardly encouraged them.
"Yeah, right, looks like it too." D'Artagnan said, gesturing to the way Athos held a hand over his ribs. Aramis reached to inspect the offending ribs, but Athos backed off and held his hand up pointedly.
"Please, enough, I truly am fine." He said, sincerely. "I have a few cracked ribs, but they have been tended too. Otherwise, I am completely unharmed."
"Cracked ribs? And just how did you get those?" Aramis demanded; his lips in a tight frown as he glared at his Brother.
"Aramis, please, scowling does not befit you." Athos said, smirking. "I ran into a number of Red Guard when I was leaving the tavern last night, but I am fine."
"Red Guard? I should've known!" Porthos growled, clearly placed in a foul mood; "First, they steal our table! Then, they give a Musketeer who does not have his wits about him a thrashin'! I'm gonna-…"
"The Red Guard have had nothing to do with disappearance of our table." The older Musketeer cut Porthos off, with a smile. "But before anymore is said, please allow me to speak!"
The other three, surprisingly, did as they were asked and said nothing.
"Firstly, I would just like to truly apologise completely." Athos said, the sincerity and sadness in his tone taking them by surprise. "My conduct last night was barbaric. Not only did I outright insult you, but I rejected you when you were only trying to offer comfort and friendship. I am utterly ashamed."
"Athos…" Aramis sighed, placing a hand kindly on his shoulder. "Please do not punish yourself for words you did not mean. We know you too well."
"Aye, mate, you were drunk. And we know Christmas has never been an easy time you." Porthos added, also trying to put the older man's mind to rest.
Athos kept his eyes focussed on the ground, clutching at his hat.
"Actually, you really don't know." He told them, quietly. "My dislike for the Season has had nothing much to do with my Brother's death. It is because my Mother died on Christmas Day, when I was ten years old."
The final truth about Athos' long-hidden past seemed to utterly break their hearts. Whilst finally relieved that Athos felt he could be this honest with them, the revelation of his Mother's loss at such a young age made them all very sad.
Yet, Aramis clutched his shoulder slightly tighter, Porthos put an arm around D'Artagnan's shoulder as he moved in closer to grasp Aramis' hand on Athos' shoulder. It was truly astounding moment of compassion, that Athos knew in that moment he'd never be alone again so long as he had them.
"We never knew." Aramis whispered, sadly.
"I never wanted too." Athos answered, simply. "Besides, I am not finished yet."
He fixed them with the most open look of sincerity and genuineness that it surprised them still; "Secondly, I also want you to know…you are my Brothers, my Family. I don't know what I'd do without you. Not only have saved my life, but you have given me reason to live it. And no more shall I drink to drown sorrows…not when, because of you, I have so much joy in my life."
Aramis looked sincerely touched, D'Artagnan grinned happily, and Porthos looked all teared up. Apparently unable to contain it anymore, the Giant Musketeer shouted; "Ah C'mere you!"
They all gathered for a giant hug, laughing as a feeling of home settled each of them. Because each of them had been in the same place when they come to the Musketeers, they had been without family or friends, without hope or joy; and they had found each other.
"Now thirdly," Athos began, smirking as they all broke away. "I imagine you must be wondering where everyone is."
Aramis, Porthos and D'Artagnan just blinked at him.
"Come again?" D'Artagnan said, stupidly.
It was just then, that the three of them realised that the table wasn't the only thing missing…as was the entire Musketeer Garrison. There was not a soul in sight. Not Treville, not the Old Blacksmith, not even Jaques the Stable Boy.
"Had you not noticed?" Athos asked, as he watched their shared astonished, and slightly embarrassed, glances.
"Well, it had not been at the forefront of our minds." Porthos said, rubbing his neck awkwardly.
Athos couldn't help it then. He just burst out laughing. It took the other three completely by surprise. They had never heard Athos laugh with such abandonment before. Certainly, they had always had the power to summon a quirk of his lips or a deep chuckle; but head-thrown-back-tears-in-your-eyes-kind of laughter they had never heard.
"My, I have missed you." Athos said, shaking his head exasperatedly.
"Hadn't realised we'd gone anywhere." Aramis said, smirking. Athos simply smiled still, they'd never know just how deeply his dream of losing them had impacted his heart. He secretly swore to himself, he'd never take them for granted ever again.
"C'mon," He said, placing his hat back on his head. "Follow me."
Aramis, Porthos and D'Artagnan exchanged bemused looks, but followed Athos from the Garrison anyway. They'd nag him and whine at him the entire way, but Athos gave nothing away. They were in for a true surprise.
As they neared the Market Place, they could hear laughter and chatter and song echoing from nearby. And when they turned the corner into the Market Place; Aramis, Porthos and D'Artagnan froze in their tracks.
For that was where they found the rest of their Garrison. And their table. And a number of other tables, which had been placed end-to-end, to make one big table. Every Musketeer could be found gathered around it, alongside many others; their individual families, their friends, people who had abandoned their homes to join in, market-place holders, bar-keepers, up to and including hungry looking street kids. It had seemed everyone had brought along their own Christmas dinners, and simply shared it out along the big table. So no one would hungry.
"Porthos!" a voice cried from nearby, making them all look around. Noelle came running over, waving and grinning happily. When she reached them, she threw her arms around Porthos in a giant hug.
"What do you think?" Noelle asked, stepping back and linking her arm with Athos'.
"I…like it, I guess." Porthos said, looking between the two of them as they shared grins, a little confused, a little uncertainly and a little pleased.
"What is this?" Aramis said, slowly taking off his hat at the sight, in awe.
"It was Athos' idea. If everyone would put together their dinners, then no one would go hungry and they'd be enough to feed the hungriest." She said, giving him a brilliant smile. "He even paid for more food, for those who did could contribute, so that there was more than enough to go around."
"It's wonderful." D'Artagnan said, grinning as he looked around.
"It's what my Mother used to do." Athos told them, smiling. "Every Christmas, she would persuade my Father to open up the House for everyone, and everyone would bring their Christmas dinners and they're would be more than enough to go around. I thought it about time for me to honour that memory."
"And honour it, you have." Captain Treville declared his arrival, smiling broadly. "Now, are you Gentlemen going to join in the festivities or are you just going to watch?"
And so they did. They laughed and shared food with their fellow Musketeers, with their fellow Human Being, and with each other. Constance was there, admittedly with Bonacieux, but he was so drunk that he didn't notice nor care when D'Artagnan stole her for a dance. Flea was also there, with a number from the Court of Miracles, and she would kiss Porthos to make him blush. A tipsy Treville and Aramis led a group of Musketeers in a round of 'God Rest Ye Merry Gentleman.' And Athos laughed harder than he had in a long time, as he talked animatedly with Noelle the entire afternoon. After everyone had finished eating, there was more than enough to give to the homeless to last them for a few days.
The festivities continued after dark, with lanterns being lit and carols being sung. Carols were sung, Musician played, Folks danced in circles once the tables were pushed aside. Even Athos was hauled up for a twirl with Noelle.
It was, by far, the finest Christmas that Paris had seen in many a year.
It was after midnight, when the crowds began to disperse.
And Athos took it upon himself to walk Noelle home.
And she kissed him silently in her doorway.
And Athos had to endure the rain of questions from Aramis, Porthos and D'Artagnan when he returned back to the Garrison with a stupid grin on his face. But he wouldn't have changed any of it for the World, because they would stay up the rest of the night, sharing a bottle of wine as they talked of their dreams and of their adventures and of their futures.
And Athos poured another glass for Porthos, he smiled again. Because for the first time, in a long time, he could see a future. But what was it that his Mother, Comtesse Charlotte De La Fere, had told him as a boy;
The darkest nights were always followed by the brightest dawns.
The End.
Thank very much for reading. Merry Christmas. And have a very happy New Year.
