I was happy to hear from many you about the last chapter and am thrilled that folks enjoyed it. We're roughly about half-way through our story. Hope you like this next one!
Porthos accompanied d'Artagnan back to his room, leaving no opportunity for the young man shake off his determined ward. Aramis detoured briefly to his own lodgings, gathering a selection of herbs into a small pouch which he slid into his doublet. When he entered the young man's room, he found the two friends engaged in a game of cards, which they quickly finished upon his arrival. Pulling the small pouch from his doublet, Aramis explained, "I brought some herbs which can be made into a sleeping draught." Aramis raised a hand to forestall the young man's argument and continued, "Nothing too powerful that you can't be woken, but enough that it may provide some respite from your nightmares."
The two men waited with baited breath as the Gascon bit his lower lip in thought. Finally, he replied, "You're certain I'll be able to wake?"
"I promise you," Aramis confirmed. At the young man's nod, Aramis gathered a cup and a small supply of water, crumbling the herbs between his fingertips before adding them to the cup and allowing them to sit for several minutes. When he was satisfied, he passed the cup to their young friend who looked at them hesitantly.
"We'll be with you all night and will wake you if you start to dream," Porthos assured him. Lifting the cup in a mock toast, d'Artagnan tossed back the contents, grimacing at the bitter taste.
"Now, off to bed with you before that takes effect," Aramis stated, motioning to the young man's bed. d'Artagnan complied and removed his boots and doublet, choosing to stay in his shirt and breeches in deference to his friends' presence in the room.
"No need to be shy in front of us lad," Porthos teased him, but the Gascon merely rolled his eyes and laid down.
Several seconds passed before he lifted his head to look at his two friends, "Leave the candles lit." Aramis and Porthos both nodded, unsurprised at the request. "And, thank you, for this. You don't need to, and I know you won't leave, so thank you." With that, the Gascon laid back down and rolled to his side, turning away from the two men.
Porthos and Aramis settled themselves, Aramis taking the first watch as he sat in his chair, polishing his dagger, while Porthos found a spot on the floor, leaning his back against the bed and letting his head drift back to lay on the mattress. Four hours had passed in relative peace, the silence broken only by Porthos' snores. Aramis had long since put his weapons away and had picked up a book that he recognized as belonging to Athos, and which the older man must have loaned to the Gascon. Allowing it to fall closed, he rubbed at his gritty eyes, knowing that it was time to change places with his friend. As he stood, his ears picked up the first sounds of distress from the young man, who still lay with his back to the rest of the room. He crossed the few feet that separated them, softening his steps in the hope that the boy would settle and continue to sleep. Once he was next to the bed, he leaned forward, getting a look at d'Artagnan's face, and hearing how the boy's inhales quickened as his suffering grew. True to his word, Aramis placed a hand on the Gascon's shoulder, pitching his voice low as he called to the young man to wake. "d'Artagnan, wake up." The boy twitched in reply, seemingly startled by the touch on his shoulder, but remained asleep. "d'Artagnan," Aramis shook him gently, "you are safe. Wake now and see for yourself."
The Gascon came awake with a start, his eyes darting around the room as he sought to identify his surroundings. Aramis tugged gently at the boy's shoulder, encouraging him to roll further onto his back and placed himself into the young man's line of sight. d'Artagnan's gaze shifted to his friend and Aramis saw recognition spark there, quickly turning to embarrassment as he realized what had happened.
Grasping the boy's chin as he tried to turn away, Aramis tutted, "None of that now. We have all relied on the strength of our brothers to deal with the horrors we've endured. Would you really deny us the opportunity to do the same for you?"
d'Artagnan's head turned back toward his friend, seeing nothing but sincerity and empathy in the medic's features. Rolling over the rest of the way, he propped himself up on one hand, intending to swing his legs over the side of the bed and sit, but Aramis' hand stayed the action as he motioned to the still sleeping man on the floor.
Giving a nod of understanding, d'Artagnan shifted back down to lay on his back, eyes staring up at the ceiling above him. Aramis placed a hand on his upper arm as he asked, "Would you like to tell me about it?"
A one-sided shrug answered him and the Gascon huffed, "Not much to tell." Scrubbing a hand across his face, it was easy to see the young man's frustration, "I wish I could remember what happened, but it's like my brain is stuck, just repeating the same images over and over again." Aramis remained quiet, hoping that the silence would encourage the boy to continue. "All I have are glimpses and….feelings. It's dark and I need to protect us…protect Athos. I don't know what from but it always comes from the dark, teeth and claws ripping…" d'Artagnan trailed off, swallowing thickly at having to relive the nightmare. A full minute passed in silence as the Gascon did his best to compose himself, and when he spoke again, it sounded more like a sob than speech, "I feel like I'm going mad."
Aramis sat on the bed, pulling the young man into his arms, noting as he did so that Porthos' eyes were open and the large man was also moving to join them on the bed. Wordlessly, Porthos pulled the Gascon's legs over the side of the bed, and inserted himself on the boy's other side, cocooning the young man between the two men's bodies. d'Artagnan shuddered now with the sobs and hitched breathing that racked his thin frame, his head hanging to rest against Aramis' shoulder as the medic whispered words of comfort into his ear. They stayed like that for several minutes until the two Musketeers could feel the boy's body begin to relax as the sobs quieted and then stopped completely. When the Gascon lifted his head from Aramis' shoulder, the two friends released their hold but remained close, ensuring their young friend knew that he was safe.
"I'm alright now," d'Artagnan sniffed, "I'm sorry for all this."
Porthos moved a hand to the young man's neck, grasping the nape gently as he replied, "Nothing to be sorry for. Crying on a brother's shoulder is almost a rite of passage for a Musketeer."
Aramis nodded in agreement, "Just like your first stitched wound."
"Or your first time getting shot," Porthos continued.
"Or the first time you get yelled at by Treville," Aramis gave a mock shudder, as the friends watched the Gascon's features lighten at their teasing.
"And one thing you can count on through all of those is that we'll be there with you," Porthos finished with a small grin.
Nodding with a small grin of his own, d'Artagnan said the only thing he could, "thank you." His friends smiled widely and Porthos' hand moved to ruffle his hair, causing the Gascon to half-heartedly move his head away, but smiling instead.
"Now that that's settled, I believe it's time for more sleep," Aramis stated, looking at the darkness outside. "It is, after all, still the middle of the night."
"Right," Porthos agreed as he stood. "My turn to sit watch."
"You don't have to Porthos, I don't think I can go back to sleep again," d'Artagnan confessed.
"Rubbish," Porthos exclaimed, motioning to Aramis who was removing his boots. "Aramis will be joinin' you now to keep the dreams at bay. He's a might cuddly," he added with a mischievous grin, "but you'll never sleep better than with a brother at your side."
The look of dread on the Gascon's face told the men everything they needed to know and they pointedly ignored the boy's discomfort as Aramis scooted him over and laid next to him, Porthos laying the blanket over both their bodies. Aramis could feel his friend's stiffness as he intentionally moved closer, wrapping an arm across his chest. Leaning forward he whispered into the young man's ear, "Rest, d'Artagnan, we will watch over you."
The Gascon's eyes drifted to Porthos who still stood beside the bed and, at the larger man's nod, he did his best to relax and closed his eyes, focusing on his brother's touch to ground him. Porthos shared a smile with Aramis before the medic closed his eyes as well, and the larger man moved to take the spot in the vacated chair. No matter how badly the boy might resist, he would not be allowed to suffer alone.
Over the next few weeks, the four friends established a routine, ensuring that the Gascon was never alone during the nighttime hours, with Aramis preparing the weak sleeping draught each night before they retired, just in case the nightmares got too bad and the brew was needed to lull the boy back to sleep. As the days progressed, the Gascon continued to improve, his sleep disturbed less often and the dreams themselves seemingly less severe. With the improved sleep, the boy's appetite returned and the three men pressed food on the boy almost constantly, focused on regaining the muscle that had been lost during the weeks prior.
Athos was also healing, now moving about without the need for crutches, and slowly strengthening his leg under Aramis' careful watch. Everyone knew that the older man would push himself too hard, too quickly, and his friends took it upon themselves to ensure that he didn't inadvertently reinjure his leg and set himself back. Two months after the accident, Aramis pronounced Athos fit for duty, a proclamation that was met with relief from Treville at having his best soldier back, and joy from his fellow brothers at not having to face the prospect of completing missions without him.
Although his leg had healed, Athos still limped occasionally at the end of a long day or first thing in the morning, needing a few minutes to work the stiffness and dull ache from the muscles that had been damaged when the bones broke. Conscious of this, but also aware that Athos was chafing at the long periods of inactivity which had marked his recovery, the Captain decided on an easy mission for the four to regain their footing. Standing outside his office and looking down into the courtyard, he could see the men sitting around their usual table, their expressions bright with the easy banter they shared while they cleaned their weapons. As he watched, a loud guffaw erupted from Porthos and the large man clapped d'Artagnan heartily on the back, apparently in appreciation for something the boy had said. The Gascon and Aramis both joined in his laughter and Treville could see a smile ghosting across his lieutenant's face as well, his eyes crinkling in amusement at his friends' humour.
The Captain was heartened to see the four enjoying themselves, knowing well that the weeks following the cave-in had been difficult. He remained unaware of the details, but it had not gone unnoticed that the four seemed to be rotating through each other's lodgings, spending evenings together in each other's company, forsaking their usual nightly pursuits. The darkness that had seemed to have taken hold of d'Artagnan was gone as well, and the young man had made no further inquiries about solitary missions, having joined his other two friends on theirs instead while Athos recovered and assisted with the training of new recruits. Drawing a deep breath, he called down to the men, indicating to his office with a flick of his hand before moving back inside to wait for them. He could hear the heavy footfalls on the stairs outside as the men ascended and in moments he had four men standing attentively in front of him, awaiting their orders.
"The Duke of Normandy is sending someone to Louviers with papers for the King." At Athos' raised eyebrow, the Captain sighed, "He doesn't want Musketeers to be seen inside Rouen but apparently doesn't want his messenger too far from home either; Louviers was the compromise. His man may be there as early as four days from now or it could take him up to a week." Pulling a purse from a desk drawer, Treville placed it on the table. "You can take rooms at the local inn while you wait and most importantly," he hardened his gaze, "stay out of trouble." Athos nodded and reached for the purse, his three friends already turning to leave as the Captain said, "I'll expect you back in no more than 10 days."
The four men stopped outside Treville's office, looking to their leader for direction. "There's still plenty of daylight left so we'll start out today. Go pack what you need and meet back at the stables in an hour." As the three moved to obey their orders, Athos breathed deeply, satisfaction with their orders already settling some of the restlessness he'd felt earlier at having been confined to the garrison for so long. He recognized that they'd been assigned a simple task, but was more than happy for the opportunity to be away for a while. Had anyone been watching, they would have seen the smile on the Musketeer's face as he descended the stairs, feeling lighter with the anticipation of the mission that lay ahead of them.
The road between Paris and Louviers was a pleasant one and the weather still temperate, given that it only just past the middle of the summer. The four men took their time, having a generous schedule within which to complete the journey. They spent two nights camping under the stars, the evenings being comfortably warm and d'Artagnan's demons sufficiently quieted by the presence of his brothers to forgo the need for candlelight while he slept. On their third day they arrived in the town of Louviers and were gladdened to find two rooms available at the local inn, run by an elderly couple who introduced themselves as Monsieur and Madame Brazeau; as such, the men were surprised when they were accosted by a young boy who looked about ten.
"Are you Musketeers?" the boy asked, eyes wide as he stared at their swords and pauldrons.
Raising an eyebrow, Athos replied, "We are. I am Athos and this is Aramis, Porthos and d'Artagnan."
The boy's gaze travelled from one man to the next, a look of awe on his face as he took in Porthos' broad stature, the jaunty tip of Aramis' hat complete with feather, and then moving on to land on the Gascon. Stepping forward in front of the young man, he pointed to d'Artagnan's sword, "Can I touch it?"
The three men smirked, but d'Artagnan smiled easily at the boy, crouching down so he was level with the child. "I think it would be prudent of us to ask your parent's permission first. Are they around?"
The boy's face unexpectedly fell and the innkeeper's wife stepped forward from where she and her husband had been watching the exchange, "As his grandmother, I'm happy to give permission." The boy's face lit up again and his hand was already reaching for the sword as she continued, "But only if this fine Musketeer supervises and you are careful."
The Gascon gave her a broad grin and a nod before rising to his feet to draw his sword from its sheath. Pointing to a bench in front of the inn, d'Artagnan walked the boy over and sat him down, placing the sword carefully across his lap. Aramis looked at their young friend fondly as he spoke, "Our young friend has a gift with children." Turning to the owners of the inn, he asked, "Where are the boy's parents?"
The woman wrung her hands while her husband put an arm around her shoulders in support as he answered, "His mother died in childbirth and his father, our son, was taken 3 years ago by a fever. Phillipe was only 5."
His wife took up the story, explaining, "He is all we have left of our son, and we are all he has as well."
Aramis dipped his head, "My condolences on your loss. From the look of the boy, you're doing a fine job with him."
Madame Brazeau smiled at the praise while her husband nodded his thanks. Turning to the entrance to the inn, he said, "Let me show you to your rooms." The three men nodded, having already passed their horses to the stable boy, and they followed the innkeeper inside. As they entered, Athos caught d'Artagnan's eye and motioned toward the door. Giving a short nod of understanding, the Gascon reached for his sword, replacing it in its sheath and following his friends through the doorway, the young boy at his heels.
The innkeeper led them through the common room where they could get their meals and up the stairs to the second floor. He opened two doors, directly across from one another, and the men took a quick look inside to find that each contained a large bed, along with a small cupboard and a table and chairs. The men exchanged glances and wordlessly, Aramis and Porthos entered the room on the left side of the hallway, while d'Artagnan followed Athos into the one on the right. Turning back to the door, Athos told the innkeeper, "Thank you, these will do nicely." With a nod, the man left and Athos tried to close the door as d'Artagnan deposited his weapons belt on the bed and then took a seat at the table.
Noting the still open door, the Gascon looked inquiringly at his mentor. Athos pulled the door open fully revealing Phillipe's expectant gaze. The boy's hopeful look had the young man grinning and he stood from his seat to place a hand on the child's shoulder. "Do you know much about horses?" he asked. At Phillip's nod d'Artagnan steered the boy back through the door and, as Athos watched them leave, he could just hear the young man's words, "Then you can help me check on ours. My mare likes a good brushing after a ride and it's never a good idea to get on your horse's bad side."
As the words trailed away, Athos shook his head in amusement at how quickly the child had attached himself to his protégé. He knew that d'Artagnan was unaware of his effect, but the boy had a natural sincerity and charm that attracted people to him like flies to honey. No doubt Phillipe would keep d'Artagnan occupied for the rest of the afternoon so Athos left his room and opened the door to his friends' room where he found Porthos playing with a deck of cards while Aramis washed his hands and face. Both looked up at the older man's entrance and Athos shrugged in reply to their unspoken question, "d'Artagnan has been pulled away by the young lad and there seemed little point staying in the other room by myself."
Porthos grinned as he teased the other man, "I thought you liked being by yourself?"
With a completely neutral face, Athos drawled, "Only when I'm enjoying some of the finer vintages of wine which I don't want to share."
This drew smiles from both men, knowing fully that Athos had a generous spirit and shared freely of anything he had with his brothers. Having finished with his hands and face, Aramis clapped Athos on the back, "Then let's see what Monsieur Brazeau stocks in his cellar. I'm sure you must be parched after our morning on the road." Putting words into action, the three secured their weapons once again and headed down to the common room in search of food and drink.