Author's Notes: First, I want to reiterate … always feel free to include your questions and speculations or even musings in your reviews. That's sometimes what triggers me to start work on the next chapter. I actually think that's why writers are so addicted to reviews. It isn't just because it's a validation, but because even a stray comment will knock something loose. I'll never hold a story hostage for reviews, but hearing your thoughts definitely is helpful. We finally get some answers here … and as ever, that brings more questions. In this chapter, Aramis and Anne begin an investigation of their own; the siblings begin to put the pieces together; while we hear from their father in a blast from the past. There is reference to the fate of book Athos in this chapter (by way of The Man in the Iron Mask), because I can't seem to help mixing book and other canon together, whether we're talking Three Musketeers or Lord of the Rings.

Reviewer Responses:

Debbie: You are quite correct … in fact, she already does. She actually has a conversation with Porthos in which she tells him that she regards all of the Inseparables as her little brothers. I've actually been mulling over a vampire!Dolokhov story (born out of a short interview I read with Tom Burke and my general take on the character. I need to actually read the book to be sure, though, and will take it with me to Italy in the event that I can't sleep during my flight. Again).

Chapter Nine

Knowledge is Power

His brothers thought he distrusted Audelais de la Fere … thought that he was wary of her. He could see it in Porthos' eyes, and in the pup's. They were wrong. What worried him, what had him so wary, was how she came to be here. Oh, he had listened as she told them what she knew and believed that she believed what she was saying, but what worried Aramis was what she didn't know, and he didn't understand why no one else was asking that particular question. Someone wanted her and her brothers here … someone wanted her to know that the suspicions regarding Athos were being stirred up once more, in order to lure them here. And that was what frightened him. He was wary of her friendship with Anne, yes, but that was due to his wariness with the woman in general (you could be grateful to them and be wary of them at the same time).

No … no, there was a puppet master pulling all their strings, and that was what truly concerned Aramis. There was a puppet master (or mistress) pulling their strings, using the love of two brothers and a sister for each other. Athos was understandably distracted by his reunion with first his older sister, and now, with his younger brother. Besides, this was all hitting far too close to home, so much so that Athos was forgetting … head over heart. But Aramis … Aramis wasn't distracted, and his birth family wasn't involved in this. As he watched the three siblings cling to each other, he sensed Treville stepping to his side, and his captain murmured, "You're worried about whoever set this into motion, too … aren't you?" Aramis nodded, his eyes never leaving the three-way embrace, and the way Athos leaned into his brother and sister.

"Yes. It's a classic diversion. We're playing checkers and someone else is playing chess. Ordinarily, I wouldn't mind, but this is my brother's heart at risk. Losing his brother and sister the first time hurt him badly. Vincent and Eugenie de la Fere were murdered because someone felt threatened by them. It's not that much of a stretch to think that their three children are also a threat to that same individual. And now, here they are, all together," Aramis answered softly. He paused and added, "It isn't that I trust Audelais de la Fere, or Josie Maddox, or whatever her name is. I don't know her, so I can't trust her. But someone is using her as a pawn, just as we are pawns, and none of us can see who is moving us into place, or for what reason. Athos is distracted by his family … normally, he's the one who is leading with his head, rather than his heart, but … So, this time, we'll have to do it for him." God knew Athos had done it enough time for him, especially when he realized he was falling in love with his own Anne, his Ana, and what that could entail for his future.

"We don't need to trust her, Aramis," Treville answered softly, and Aramis looked at his captain, who continued, "We only need to trust Athos, because there's one thing our dear puppet master failed to take into account." Aramis eyed his captain questioningly, and Treville leaned in closer, murmuring, "He or she never considered that we would come with Athos … and they certainly didn't take the friendship of Milady and the director into account. Whatever we might think of her, it's become increasingly clear that she still loves Athos … and she truly cares for his sister. You've seen how fierce she was when she was the Cardinal's primary headhunter. How much more fierce do you think she will be on behalf of someone she loves?"

That … was something Aramis hadn't considered. He looked first at the three siblings who continued to cling to each other. Audelais weeping as Athos kissed her forehead and hair, the middle child slipping his fingers around the back of his younger brother's neck; whilst Thomas de la Fere held both of his older siblings tightly. But he was wrong … it wasn't just Audelais who was weeping, but all three of them. Now, he could see tear tracks rolling down his brother's face as he kissed first his sister, and then his brother. Aramis swallowed hard. Athos was vulnerable right now, so vulnerable … it was Aramis' turn to be strong for his brother.

And then, he looked at Anne, who watched the reunion with tears of her own. But … and this made Aramis' heart stutter … she was smiling through the tears, as if the three-way hug between Vincent and Eugenie's children was the most beautiful sight she'd ever seen. Once more, it occurred to Aramis just how vulnerable they all were. With that in mind, the sharpshooter of the group made his way to Anne, who shifted as he approached. She murmured, a bit archly, "Not a fan of family reunions?"

Aramis rolled his eyes and murmured, "Things are falling into place a little too easily, don't you think, Milady?" Her eyes narrowed, and Aramis continued, "Eight years this place has been deserted, and now, all three heirs are back in this house. Athos and his older sister arrive back at nearly the same time." The woman was shaking her head almost in irritation, but Aramis pressed forward determinedly, "Athos doesn't believe in coincidences and neither do I. Think! Audelais sent you here. And then, when you hit a brick wall, you called her north. But what triggered both arrivals here, all arrivals here? One thing … stirrings of the old accusations against Athos. Why? It's been eight years, why would someone try to stir that up after being silent all that time? Who feels threatened by Athos?"

"Richelieu, for one. He feels threatened by Athos and Treville. He's bought the loyalty of those around him … or leveraged them into being loyal. But Athos, and your captain? People are loyal to them because of them. There's something else. More and more, I'm feeling as if we're pawns … not just Richelieu's, but someone else's as well. I wanted to believe I was just being paranoid. I forgot the number one rule … just because you're paranoid doesn't mean someone's not out to get you," was the somewhat unlikely response.

Aramis nodded. He felt the same way. They were being herded together, and he didn't like that feeling one bit. He asked softly as Athos laughed at something his younger brother said (trying not to be jealous that Thomas de la Fere could still make his brother laugh, their brother laugh), "What do you suggest?" They were fumbling in the dark without Athos to take point, whereas Anne had been here before. She bit her lip thoughtfully, before turning a determined face in his direction. This promised to get … interesting.

"So far, we've been reacting to whatever the puppeteer wants us to do. I say it's time we start mixing things up, start doing things they wouldn't expect. You up to heading to the sitting room where Athos' parents died?" she asked and Aramis inclined his head. With one last glance to Athos (who was still clinging to Thomas and Audelais), and one to Treville (which translated roughly to take care of him and I will … you be careful, too), Aramis followed Anne to the scene of the crime … one of the crimes, at least.

MMMMMMMMM

The three de la Fere siblings continued to crowd around each other, though Audelais' tears were slowing. And Athos couldn't help but notice … Tommy looked neither surprised nor angry. He knew his sister was alive and perhaps even why she left, more than twenty years earlier. His younger brother said softly as he stroked their sister's hair back from her temples, wiping away her tears at the same time, "I learned the truth regarding you, about a week before Mother and Father died. I would have confronted them with it that night, but Justin convinced me to find proof. That was typical of him, though … always trying to look after me."

Athos actually felt his blood run cold at this revelation, and suddenly, things started to fall into place. Throughout Tommy's life, he had always been their mother's favorite and he responded to that … just as Audelais was their father's favorite, and she was particularly close to him as a result. But in the week before their parents were murdered, Tommy grew cold toward her. And while he wasn't exactly warmer to their father, there was a … an understanding between them. There were times when he felt like he was in danger of falling down a rabbit hole (and wasn't it interesting, how it was always Pinon Deux or Anne who had that effect on him). This time, though, he wasn't falling down that rabbit hole … he was careening.

And as he so often did, Porthos stepped in. He said, "My 'pologies for interruptin,' but we need introductions, and then we need to get to work." And he truly did sound sorry, but he was also right. There would be time for a more complete reunion later. Still touching both of his siblings, Athos half-turned toward Porthos and nodded. His brother Musketeers smiled then, saying, "I'm Porthos du Vallon. I've already met Audelais … and you must be Tommy."

Tommy grinned, answering, "That would be me. It's a pleasure to meet you … I'm betting you're the one who looks after my idiotic, self-sacrificing older brother." Athos glowered at his brother, but Porthos roared with laughter as Captain Treville, d'Artagnan, and Constance joined them. Aramis and Anne, he noticed, were nowhere to be seen. He had a sneaking suspicion of where they were, and while he didn't like them being split up, he also understood that they were doing the job they came here to do.

"We all share that particular duty … even though it isn't really a duty. Athos looks after us … we return the favor as much as possible," d'Artagnan answered Tommy's question, smirking a bit, "and your self-sacrificing older brother sometimes requires a lot of looking after. I'm wondering if your sister requires the same, and who does it for her." Audelais giggled at that, and Tommy smirked right back, evidently recognizing a kindred spirit of sorts in d'Artagnan. God help him, those two joining forces would be the little brothers from hell! His eyes met Constance's and she rolled her eyes, evidently coming to the same conclusion he did.

"Of course she does … where do you think Athos learned to be a self-sacrificing idiot? It certainly wasn't from our parents!" Tommy retorted and d'Artagnan snickered at that. That … was actually fair, and Athos bit back a laugh at their sister's indignant expression. He merely raised his eyebrows at her … and which of them was the one who agreed to leave home in order to protect her two younger brothers when she hadn't even reached the age of majority? So far as he was concerned, that outweighed any of his own 'self-sacrificing idiot' stunts (and, he had to admit, there were plenty of those).

"Good job they both have all of us then," Porthos answered and from the corner of his eye, Athos saw his sister blush and duck her head. He also saw the Look that was exchanged between Porthos and Tommy, and groaned inwardly. Athos realized as a young boy that just because he was younger than his sister didn't mean that he couldn't be protective of her. It seemed that it slipped his mind that of course, if he was protective of Audelais, Tommy would also be protective of him. Really, this case was doing a number on his brain.

And that was the problem, wasn't it? This wasn't a case, not for him, and he hadn't been approaching it as a case or a mission. This was his family … his childhood … his older sister and his younger brother, and all the baggage that entailed. Athos closed his eyes briefly and when he opened them, he caught Porthos' eye and mouthed, 'I'm sorry.' The other man scowled at him and bent down to whisper, "Don't be such an idiot … this is why we came along! There was no way we'd let you go alone."

"Tommy … do you know who killed Mère and Papa?" Audelais asked earnestly, looking up at their baby brother. Athos blinked at his sister, who sighed, sounding more than a touch impatient, "Athos, think about it. From everything I've learned about that night, Tommy was one of the few people left from the dinner party who remained in the house. He was also the only one who was conscious … yes, I figured out that Mère drugged you. That just leaves Tommy." She turned back to their brother, saying, "That's why you left, after Athos and Anne's marriage disintegrated. It wasn't just because Athos was gone, but because of your own guilt. You knew what happened, but for some reason, couldn't tell anyone."

Oh. Oh, he should have seen that himself. Why hadn't he seen that for himself? Tommy stared at Audelais, his expression remarkably similar to the five year old boy who could never figure out how his sister knew that he'd been trying to get into the cookie jar. And then their sister smiled, small hand reaching up to cup Tommy's cheek as she added, "You forget, Tommy … Athos may have learned about being a self-sacrificing idiot from me, but you learned a few things from me as well. And in your position, I would have run."

Tommy put his hand over hers, answering hoarsely, "No, you wouldn't have. You're stronger than me, Aude, you always have been. I left to become stronger, but I also left to figure out who wanted Mère and Père dead. I knew who the agent was, but I didn't know who she was working for. I had to know that, before I could do anything else. I've gotten closer, but … when I heard that you and Athos were home, I knew that we could figure it out together. You know how Père was. It wouldn't surprise me if he decided to set up a scavenger hunt, giving each of us a piece of the puzzle … I have vague memories of holding onto Aude's pant leg when Mère was away."

"You know, that's exactly what he would do. It would appeal not just to his desire to teach us to work together, but also to the side of him that liked redundancy. The question is, where would he put the first clue?" Audelais questioned. It was interesting … her question wasn't, who killed their parents, but where was the first clue. Then again, maybe, like Athos, she wasn't as interested in who was holding the gun (although, Athos had a feeling that Tommy already told them who was … they knew it was a woman and there was only one other woman who would affect his little brother that way), but who was holding the money, so to speak.

For the first time since he'd seen his sister stepping tentatively into Treville's room back at the hotel, Athos' mind began working properly. His siblings were right … before Aude's disappearance, the scavenger hunt was exactly the sort of thing his father would have done to encourage cooperation between his three children. Yes, he had his favorite, and their mother had hers, but their father had loved all three of them. So where …? Athos closed his eyes, focusing on that golden thread.

"If he wanted the three of you to cooperate, and he sensed that something was coming, something that would render him unable to protect his children … he would put that clue with something that had meaning for all three of you," Treville pointed out. Exactly right. Their captain went on, "Is there a portrait or a photo of the three of you together? Something that had meaning for all of you, a favorite activity or place that he would have focused on?" Athos tried to think back, trying to remember something that all three of them shared. But it ended up being Constance who started to unravel things.

She asked, "Captain, do you think it would have to be a large photo of the three of them? As in, portrait sized?" Treville raised his brows inquiringly, and Constance explained, "There's a picture of the three kids sitting on that credenza against the wall, under the painting of the original Athos." As one, the siblings plus the Musketeers turned to face the painting of Olivier d'Athos de la Fere, their forefather and Athos' namesake. It sent chills down his spine, when he thought about it, how his own life mirrored the first Athos so much. Although, to the best of his knowledge, he had no children. Would that Athos have survived his son's death, if he had known that Raoul left behind a child of his own? Would he have made that little boy, his grandson, the center of his life? Athos felt sure that he would have.

"Well, then," Audelais said firmly, wiping away the last of her tears, "let's find out!" With those words, Constance gingerly picked up the framed picture of the three of them … Tommy couldn't have been more than a year old, as Audelais looked to be around twelve as she cradled her baby brother in her arms, Athos at her shoulder. Constance handed the picture to his older sister, who turned it over and slide the back off. She murmured, "An envelope, and that's Papa's handwriting. Five dollars says it's a letter." Athos arched his brows, but virtuously refrained from asking if she meant five Canadian dollars or five American dollars. Instead, he nodded for her to open the envelope … and with it, a door to the past opened.

MMMMMMM

De la Fere Manor

Outskirts of Pinon Deux, New Brunswick

Late May, 2005

Vincent Raoul de la Fere sat at his desk, brooding over the most recent confrontation with his wife … and the revelations that resulted from that same confrontation. So much made sense now, but he couldn't concern himself with that right now. He had to protect his children … both present and absent. He ran his finger over his lower lip, trying to think of the best way to do that. His instincts warned him that before too much longer, his wife's old enemy and even older friend would be acting against them for his wife's crimes, with extreme prejudice. And knowing her, she would choose to punish the entire family for the sins of one. Vincent was certain that he couldn't save himself or Eugenie, but he would do his damnedest to save his children. There is no knowledge that isn't power, he remembered his father telling him when he was a boy.

Well, Papa, he thought, we're about to test that theory … and for the sake of your grandchildren, I hope you're right. Taking a deep breath, he picked up the pen that his daughter had given to him for his birthday one year … her last gift to him … and began to write, already knowing exactly where he would put this letter. There was only one place: in the frame that held the picture of his beloved children, resting on the credenza just under the portrait of their famous ancestor. Eugenie hadn't wanted it there, he remembered, but it was one time when he held firm. It would remain where it was, under their ancestor's portrait where he could watch over them from the afterlife. Vincent was certain that his long-dead ancestor would be beyond proud of Vincent's middle child … he truly was a worthy namesake to Olivier d'Athos de la Fere.

'My most beloved children,' he wrote, 'I've long hated the pretentious 'if you're reading this, I'm dead' letters, and yet, here I am writing one. There are so many things I want to tell you, so many things you need to know. But I'm going to be a self-indulgent old bastard and tell you what I want you to know first. I addressed you as my most beloved children, and you are. You are. I've never told any of you that nearly enough, but you are the greatest gifts any man could receive. That is why I've chosen to walk this particular path. I have no issue with your mother paying for what she's done to other people, but no one will harm my children.'

Vincent paused, summoning the image of each of his children when they were first born. They weren't small any more … Tommy was seventeen, Athos twenty-two, and Audelais was twenty-seven and now a mother herself. Oh, yes … he knew exactly where his daughter was, where she'd been for the last several years. He also knew that she was safe, and almost literally under Mariana's nose. He knew that she was married to an ambitious young assistant district attorney named 'Robert Maddox,' and that he had a two year old granddaughter named Tristan. He'd even seen pictures of his beautiful daughter and precious granddaughter.

Thinking again of the granddaughter he'd never have the chance to meet, he began writing once more, 'Thomas … Tommy … our last born, the baby and the most spoiled. But how could I help spoiling you? How could any of us help but spoil you? And yet, in spite of all, you've maintained your sweet spirit. In my mind's eye, I can still see you at four, crawling into your sister's lap after some foolish boy broke her heart, and comforting her as only a small child can offer comfort. I've often wished I could have taken a picture of that, but by the time I found a camera, the moment would have been over. I took a picture and kept it in my heart.'

He smiled in spite of himself. The very young didn't always have very good taste when it came to potential mates, and his daughter was no different in that respect at fifteen and sixteen. The boy in question wasn't even close to being good enough for her. Not because he was from the wrong side of the tracks, but because he treated Vincent's girl like she was dirt to be scraped off the bottom of his boot. Add to that, he was only a year older than Audelais, but now looked closer to fifty, thanks to years of drug and alcohol abuse.

And because he liked the symmetry of speaking from beyond the grave to his book-end children first, he started the next paragraph with, 'And Audelais. My firstborn, my only daughter, and in some ways, the true mother of her two younger brothers. I've never made a secret that you were my favourite, and I think that was true from the moment you were born, when you blinked open your eyes and looked at me. In that moment, I knew I would do anything for you.'

Looking back now, he wondered if that was where things started to go bad with Eugenie. He had fallen in love with his daughter as soon as she was placed in his arms … not in the same way he loved Eugenie at the time, or the way his Audelais loved her Rob, but from the moment Audelais was placed in his arms, his love for his daughter was fierce and he knew, knew with his very soul, that he would tear to pieces anyone who dared to harm his little girl. He'd been doing that very thing for the last eleven years. He'd been tearing to pieces both himself and his wife.

And unfortunately, his sons were caught in the crossfire. Audelais was his favorite, Tommy was Eugenie's. Athos had been Aude's favorite brother, and … and Vincent had failed his oldest son badly. It was truly ironic … he'd named his son after his illustrious ancestor, and out of all three of his children, there were times when Vincent thought he failed his middle child the worst. With that in mind, he wrote, 'And Athos. I chose well when I named you, my beautiful boy. Oh, I can almost see your expression now, little one. But it's true. All three of my children are beautiful, and you, my sweet son, you did a magnificent job of stepping into your sister's shoes. I love you, Athos … so very much. I love all three of you. And that's the real reason I'm writing this letter. When she was a girl, your mother's best friend was a young lady named 'Mariana Delmedigo,' a young Italian whose father worked with your maternal grandfather. There was an element of competition to your mother's friendship with Mariana, perhaps because they were so similar. They routinely tried to outdo the other, sometimes even stealing each other's boyfriends. They always forgave each other, though … until your mother committed a betrayal that completely destroyed Mariana. This betrayal occurred before I met your mother … indeed, before I met the man who would become Mariana's husband, Henri Roy. The man who was to become my best friend when I moved to Canada with your mother.

'As I'm sure you realize, this made things quite interesting. In those early years, Henri and Mariana adored each other, and their children. Mariana was polite to your mother and warm to me. I truly think things would have been different if your mother hadn't started flirting with Henri whilst she was pregnant with Audelais. To his credit, he didn't reciprocate, but Mariana didn't appreciate it. They argued, the old friends and the argument caused your mother to go into premature labor. It was many days before we were sure that both mother and daughter would be all right. Mariana was badly shaken and became almost preternaturally protective of Audelais as a result in the days, months, and years that followed.'

Here, Vincent had to take a break, blinking tears out of his eyes. He'd lied to his daughter on the night he drove her to the bus station. There was never a question in his mind that Audelais was his child … she bore a striking resemblance to his mother when she was a young girl. Mariana had known that. However, that didn't stop her from threatening Athos and Tommy. Eugenie had betrayed her one time too many … and now, to repay her former best friend for everything she'd taken from her, Mariana would take her daughter.

This, he told his children. But he couldn't give them the whole story, not in this letter. There was no doubt in Vincent's mind that all three of his children remembered the scavenger hunts he'd arranged when they were small … sometimes to encourage cooperation between them, but mostly to give them a chance to play outside and be normal children for once. With that in mind, he began considering what clue he could leave them that would point them in the right direction … and where he could place that clue. What did they need to know most of all?

And then, he knew. The letter would be placed behind the picture, under their ancestor's portrait. The next clue would be placed in Audelais' room. No doubt, his children would be creeped out by it, especially as it hadn't been touched since the night she left, but it was the one place Eugenie would never look. She couldn't bring herself to go into their daughter's room, not since the night Tommy wouldn't stop crying for his sister. She couldn't bring herself to go into Aude's room, and she couldn't bring herself to look at their little girl's favorite tree for climbing.

He was partially responsible for that, he knew. He'd never forgiven her for that awful night, or for the way Eugenie always put her reputation and how things looked to their neighbors before the well-being of their children. It was made even worse because he knew Eugenie loved all three of her children, not just Tommy. But she'd spent her entire life wearing masks and pretending, and she no longer knew how to simply be Eugenie. That was Mariana's final revenge, really … 'that girl will finally know what it means to just be Audelais, and not your daughter, not the sister of your sons. She will be free, and you have to live with that,' she said.

But it wasn't just Eugenie who had to live with that. Vincent read over the letter one last time, before nodding to himself. Satisfied with the protection he'd left his children, he folded the letter and slid it inside an envelope before sealing with hot wax and his father's signet ring. That also belonged to the original Athos. He wondered what his ancestor would make of him, and then shook his head. They belonged to two different times, to two different cultures. Instead, he placed the letter to his children behind the picture of those same youngsters and stepped back. He stared at his children for several moments, before looking up at his ancestor's picture, whispering, "Please … protect them as you once protected the king. It's only a matter of time before I cannot."

He'd done a miserable job of protecting his children while he was alive. But he would die protecting them, if need be, and not regret it for an instant.

TBC

Additional Author's Notes: For obvious reasons, I couldn't use 'de Medici' as the maiden name of Louis' mother. According to Wikipedia, Medici is the plural of 'del medico' or 'delmedigo,' and I knew I had Mariana's maiden name. And what does Delmedigo mean? That would be translated as 'medical doctor.' I suppose I could have used 'Mugello,' which is the region in Florence from whence the family came, but I liked Delmedigo better.'