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~ Your humble servant ;)
It was eerily silent in the palace now that the guests were all gone, the sudden emptiness once full of life was now quiet as a grave leaving a hollow, lonely feeling in its place.
In addition to this, most of the lamp lights had been snuffed out by the servants, finding it wiser to conserve the candle sticks for a future date when they were actually being used.
And so each hall was illuminated periodically by the fierce strikes of lightening encroaching on the palace walls, each strike louder, brighter and closer than the last as the storm raged on outside.
The seemingly peaceful moments in between each strike returned the palace to its dismal self, while the thick, inky blackness of night swallowed up the interior, corner by corner, creeping slowly into each new room and consuming it whole like a cat would prey on an unassuming bird.
Add to this the muffled moans and groans that echoed through these dormant black halls and one may assume the dead still haunted the premises.
Of course, when one is accompanied by the fiercest musketeers Paris had to offer within these lonesome walls, it makes sleeping at night a little more bearable, not that anyone could due to the circumstances, but it was a comforting thought at this ungodly hour.
This concept of 'lying down their lives to save the life of another' didn't exactly comfort Queen Anne however, as her labour progressed painfully over the hour with nothing but pillows and glasses of water to aid her descent into misery.
The presence of the storm was gradually taking its toll on everyone's mentality, the longer the absence of D'artagnan and the surgeon, the more tense, unhappy and worried everyone else became.
Daring another glimpse out into the hail, Aramis opened up the large front entrance and stuck his head out of the door, doing his best to keep his eyes open through the onslaught to perhaps catch a glimpse of their saviour.
Nothing but cold, empty blackness was waiting to greet his sight.
Aramis quickly pulled his head back in through the open door and closed it, turning to face his brothers and shaking his head to confirm what they already knew. D'artagnan was not coming back.
Whether this was because he had not found a surgeons' lodgings or he had become stranded in the storm, no one knew, but regardless of his situation, time was of the essence and they needed a surgeon, fast.
In the time that grew, the musketeers continued to do what little they could to ease the pain of the queen while they attempted to construct back up plans, should D'artagnan not arrive in time. Unfortunately, this endeavour was proving fruitless as each witty musketeer in turn, had all found some hole or fault in each others plan, getting them no where and fuelling their frustration.
"Perhaps one of us should go out there after him?" Porthos suggested again, feeling uneasy about leaving D'artagnan out alone to brave the elements.
Athos shook his head sadly, " I am sorry my friend, but we are limited in numbers here, we cannot afford to lose another valuable asset to this storm. If something goes wrong-"
"Something has already gone wrong, Athos!" Aramis corrected harshly, stalking off towards the queens chambers once more to check on her deteriorating health as was his new duty. The others waited by the door and watched him go, feeling sympathy for their brother who it seemed could take the waiting game no longer.
As he paced back and forth outside the chamber, Aramis accepted that he was coming to his wits end the longer time crept on.
Problem after problem stacking upon his shoulders until he felt he would shatter into little pieces as he could see no silver lining nor plausible solution to their nerve biting situation.
For once in his life, Aramis realized that he did not have to power within him to resolve an issue, and it scared the hell out of him.
That and the fact that the love of his life was currently in intolerable pain, his unborn child was in great danger and his dear friend, D'artagnan had gone missing in a storm, and it was all his fault.
They were all pretty good reasons to get upset from his point of view, so damn pleasantries and idle talk, Aramis wanted answers and for the love of all things mighty he would find a way to save his queen and his child.
Making up his mind, he burst into the queens chambers, surprising King Louis- whom looked worse for wear with stray locks hung about it all directions completing his dishevelled appearance.
The queen, his queen, Anne, was now lying on her side upon the mattress, a sheen of sweat covering her body and making her shiver slightly, her legs propped apart by a pillow and breathing shallowly into the sheets. One fist clenched into the bed sheets, the other squeezing tightly to her husbands hand, as she sought some relief from the never ending pain, the tears in her eyes begging someone, anyone to end this cruel torment.
Aramis heart went out to her, he could not bear to see her like this, and so he strode over to the bed, his mixed look of certainty, confidence and determination consoling the kings' distress and allowing him to approach the queen so he may help save his poor wife.
As a first order of business, Aramis stripped himself of his jacket and placed it across her trembling frame. She caught his eyes then, conveying so much emotion in a single glance that could never be translated to words.
Aramis nodded once and knelt along side the bed, taking her other hand, blatantly disregarding whatever the king may think of this gesture.
"I have some medical knowledge-" Aramis began, his voice strained as he watched her lying immobile in pain, his eyes becoming hot and his throat swelling painfully. "P-please, just tell me how to do this" he pleaded, holding her pale hand to frantically beating heart, her eyes meeting his.
"Please."
AGH The Feel Monsters have struck again with their onion peels L I'm the one writing this and yet I struck myself, odd isn't it how powerful writing and reading can be. Oh well, till next time!
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