Going Back
Chapter 8
The morning dawned bright and sunny as D'Artagnan and Athos mounted their horses before setting out.
Aramis looked darkly on the scene as D'Artagnan winced as he attempted to mount his ride.
"You really shouldn't be riding so much yet. It's only going to aggravated your injuries, and make the recovery process longer for your ribs," he said admonishingly.
D'Artagnan sighed as he looked down at his brother. "Aramis, I'm fine – just a little sore."
"Besides, I'm gonna have to look after you and make sure you don't collapse somewhere seeing how you're recovering from a bullet wound," said Porthos, coming to stand next to Aramis.
Aramis' eyes flashed. "My fever has practically abated. I should be fine by tomorrow."
"Even still," said Athos from his horse. "The two of you and Joseph seemed to have things in common. He is more likely to trust you than me."
"Because bastardy loves company?" Aramis spat bitterly.
Athos' eyes widened, "Because you were both soldiers," he said dully, his voice marked by suppressed emotion.
Aramis realized immediately that what he had said had injured his brother and regretted his outburst instantly.
"Athos," he said reaching for his horse's bridle so he couldn't ride away. "I'm sorry mon ami, I didn't mean to say that. I reacted harshly because I'm feeling useless; this injury is practically healed! I shouldn't take my frustrations and my own baggage out on you though," he said, his dark brown eyes full of repentance as he stroked the horse's nose.
"It's alright," he said, catching the marksman's eye. "I understand. I'm counting on you to see if you can get more information out of him that might lead to an arrest. You are rumoured to be quite charming."
"Irresistible, rumour has it," Porthos piped in with a grin.
Aramis smirked and shook his head. "Typically that's with the fairer sex, but I appreciate the platitudes."
Athos smirked at the man before issuing a final warning. "Be careful. We're not quite sure how Joseph may be connected or what his end goal might be."
Aramis nodded. "Ride safe," he said as he released the harness and watched his brothers leave.
"You hurt him, you know," Pothos said delicately as D'Artagnan and Athos rode out of earshot.
"I know," whispered Aramis as he stared at the ground ashamedly.
"Y'know he puts up those stone walls around his heart, but that comment got through."
Aramis sighed deeply and then looked into the dark eyes of his dearest friend. Porthos could read the sorrow in his brother's eyes; his need to protect the reckless marksman flared instantly.
"I really didn't mean to say it. This whole situation has been weighing on me more than I care to admit to even without the injury. I didn't think about Athos' own anguish over this situation when I spoke. It slipped out before I realized it."
The pair took a seat on a bench that was sheltered by a large oak.
"Care to tell me what's eatin' ya?" Porthos said placing a large comforting hand on the marksman's shoulder.
Aramis sighed; Porthos could almost feel the weight of the stress settling itself onto Aramis' shoulders.
"It's nothing really, or it should be by now," he said. "It's this whole idea of nobility and bastardy. I can't seem to let it go," he said with a shrug.
"Of all the affectionate nicknames my father and his family hurled at me when I was younger, bastard always hit the hardest. I was ten, Porthos, and my mother had just died. I don't need to tell you how desperate and alone I was," he said, giving his brother a small sad smile. "All I wanted was a friend, some comfort, some love…some kind of family! And what I got was resentment, scorn and insult. I was a bastard – a disgrace. Something made from embarrassment. I was less than nothing. I was something to hate, something to be ashamed of. Six years I lived there, enduring their scorn and torment and other tortures at the hands of my father so he could mould me into something he could finally be proud of." Aramis paused, his eyes dark with old pain. "I couldn't stay there, Porthos. Even death on the battlefield was better than having to live with their disgust and disgrace day-in, day-out. No inheritance is worth that."
"I know brother and no one's blamin' you for leavin', but you still shouldn't take it out on Athos. He's got enough trouble tryin' to keep it together right now," said Porthos with a reaffirming squeeze.
"I know. Athos has had enough issues with his family. Now he's just found out the Grandfather he worshipped may have had an illegitimate son that his father may have denied. I could never imagine wanting my father's acceptance enough to potentially kill for it, but our mystery man is desperate for something that Athos has spent years trying to break away from. It seems he's desperate enough to try to kill for it. By law, as a bastard, while there is a living heir to the estate, he has no right to the land or its property; what Athos is struggling to determine, with his over-active guilt complex, is the difference between what is the law and what is right."
Porthos growled. "So far I haven't seen much right. If he's been attackin' the coaches and tried to kill you and D'Artagnan, it's pretty clear to me what side of the law he belongs on."
"If he hadn't shot me, would you be so certain? When you have nothing, you have nothing to lose, he told me. If there was something, some sort of acknowledgement of your birth right which could be validated in court – something that would prove that all this land could potentially be yours, would you not doing everything you could to find it?" Aramis asked.
"I sure as anythin' I wouldn't be shootin' at Musketeers," Porthos said stubbornly.
"Neither would I," said Aramis sighing, "but we can't know the depth of this man's desperation, whoever he was."
Porthos nodded. "I think it's time that we try to track down our friend Joseph to see if he's got somethin' he wants to share…see if your charms work on him as well."
Aramis sighed, "Your lack of faith wounds me," he said rising, and with a bark of laughter Porthos joined him as they made their way towards the house in search of Joseph.
oOo
D'Artagnan and Athos rode in silence for the first part of the trip before D'Artagnan's curiosity got the better of him.
"Why are we speaking to the merchant?"
"He is our only other potential witness or suspect. He may be able to give some answers on the subject," said Athos. "He is the only one who said they had seen anything untoward.
"He said he saw a light coming from the manor," said D'Artagnan recalling what was said. Athos nodded his head and grew silent once again.
D'Artagnan cast a wary glance over at his mentor, who brooded silently as his horse plodded along.
"You shouldn't take what Aramis said personally," D'Artagnan said. "He didn't mean anything by it."
Athos continued to ride, a small frown on his lips. D'Artagnan wasn't sure if his comment would be acknowledged, then Athos spoke.
"Aramis wears his heart on his sleeve. He doesn't hide his feelings from those he loves. His words were not directed at me, but at a way of thinking that has been tragically woven into who he is. He and I have spoken of this since we started this mission and many times before that. It's a question of equals and rights - of legitimacy. Even the name is dismissive. For a man like Aramis, who above all praises love, the term is a complete dismissal and corruption of love. In his heart, the term illegitimate sullies the miracle of love and birth. It is hurtful and a curse – one that eventually drove Aramis away from a family – one that he desperately craved. His family used it as a weapon against him. Paired with the physical abuse he was subjected to by his father, it's no wonder that Aramis fled, disavowing any ownership to that name and his potential title. I'm glad he did. They didn't deserve him," Athos said. D'Artagnan smiled, silently agreeing with Athos. If his family couldn't recognize the wonder, vibrancy, compassion and power that was Aramis, Athos was right in saying they didn't deserve him.
Athos sighed and continued. "To be honest, I don't blame him for lashing out at me. This whole situation hits a little too close to home for both of us. I have no doubt that my family would have marginalized and treated an illegitimate son just as poorly as Aramis' family treated him. But that's about where the comparisons end. Aramis would never have turned to anger and violence. I wonder if the man would be so desperate for this place if he understood the curses and the devastation that it brought to me. To think that someone is so desperate to claim this cursed property that I have desperately tried severing from my life, that he is willing to commit crimes to claim it, is absurd."
"Do you really think it's Joseph?" D'Artagnan asked.
Again Athos sighed as the village came into view.
"What we do know is that we're searching for a man named Felix. The coaches were attacked but not robbed and no one was injured, so this was about shaming the nobility, more so than gain. We know that this Felix believes that he is entitled to my family's land. We know he is searching for something within the manor and now the lodge that can validate this. We know he has no regard for authority, and we know that only one other has had any knowledge about someone living in the manor. I am looking to get an alibi, an excuse or a confession from this man, but right now, Joseph is our more probable suspect."
oOo
A/N: Well I guess I felt a slight pause was needed so Athos and Aramis could vent a bit...work out some of their feelings to their loving brothers...Hopefully we're back to some action in the next chapter! Thanks for sticking with this!
