Aramis awoke the next morning, but he looked utterly exhausted, the dreams disturbing him so that he didn't sleep soundly. Serge had already sent all of them's breakfast over, but they delayed giving it to them as they wanted a little time with their brother before the meds put him back once more to sleep.
Aramis looked at them, asking, "No mission?", but didn't understand when they all broke out into relieved grins. He said, "What?"
Porthos answered for them all by saying, "You are sounding more like your old self, mon ami. You were able to speak normally just now. We're just happy that you're getting better."
Aramis yawned, saying, "Tired."
Athos replied, "Would you mind if we sit with you for a few minutes before you have your breakfast, Aramis? We have missed you so much, and would just like to be with you while you are awake for a little while before we give you your breakfast with the meds in it. A breakfast, I might add, that smells delicious. Serge made you porridge, but with steamed apples in it. He knows you and your apples," all of them grinning at that. How many times through their time as Musketeers had he had an apple in his hand, an apple and a grin most of the time, even the time when Constance had smacked him while he was eating one.
They spent an enjoyable half hour reminiscing about past missions, and Aramis joined right in. His speech was still very soft and halting, but the stuttering had disappeared. They were soon competing for who could relate the funniest things that had happened in their many trips for the Crown.
Bur during a quiet moment, Aramis asked another question they dreaded answering. "Were we on a mission when I was injured?"
They all froze, not knowing how to answer his question, and unfortunately, no Captain arrived to distract their brother from his question this time.
When they were too silent, Aramis asked another question. "How was I injured?" looking intently at each of his brothers, waiting for an answer.
Athos decided he had to be as truthful as possible. Aramis had asked them more than once now about it, and they needed to give him some of the answer. He just hoped it didn't have any adverse effect on him, or trigger still more questions.
Looking over at his brothers first, he saw their nods.
"Aramis, we do not precisely know why, but you were abducted and held captive by an unknown group of men. They are the ones who hurt you so much, before we found you and brought you home. Captain Treville is determined, as are we, to hunt them down and bring them to justice."
He already felt uneasy having said as much as he had, as he could see the level of shock registering in his brother's brown eyes at his words.
Aramis was totally silent for a while, before he asked in a barely audible voice, "They tortured me?"
"Yes," replied Athos, shaken that he had to be relating this to him, and he knew what Aramis would ask him next and was dreading that, as well.
"Why?" he was asked.
"We, unfortunately, do not know enough about why they have done this," Athos told him. "We literally tore apart the house we found you in, but nothing so far has told us who they were. There was a torn piece of paper with some women's names on it, but we have not been able to find out from it who had done this to you, or why they think you would have done anything to anger them in this way."
"I don't remember," Aramis said, shaken at the loss of his memory to this extent. "I don't remember anything at all that happened to me. Why?", he asked in such a plaintive voice, "why wouldn't I remember?"
"It is probably the way your mind is dealing with the horror of what you went through, Aramis," Athos said. "It is blocking out the memories so you do not suffer through reliving it again and again."
Aramis tried to raise himself up a little as he started to speak. Instead ,the movement triggered a spasm of pain that had him gasp and lay flat quickly. Porthos leaned down and said gently but firmly, "You know you're supposed to stay still, don't you? You're still the same, brother. You want to do things too fast, and not give your body the rest it needs. You know, the advice you give us every time we get injured," his eyebrows raising as he asked the question.
Aramis just lay there, his body calming down now, while he gave Porthos a look as if to say, "Wait until I'm taking care of you again." If it hadn't been such a serious matter, they all would have laughed at his reaction, so very typically Aramis.
But they were thinking also what they wouldn't give to have him well again, and saying just how fine he was. But until he was, they weren't letting him try anything that could jeopardize his recovery.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Anne couldn't wait to hear how Aramis was doing. Constance had sent word that she would be there to visit that afternoon. When she finally arrived, Anne could barely contain herself, before pulling her friend over to a bench in the garden to hear her news. The gardens were quiet and private, so they could speak in confidence.
"How is he, Constance?", she asked almost before they were seated.
"He is awake and lucid, Anne," Constance replied. "He isn't out of danger, but he is waking up more often, and is eating and drinking what is given him, which is slowly replenishing his strength. This will help him in his recovery."
"Is he in pain?", Anne asked, dreading the answer.
"Dr. Lemay gave him pain medication, as well as one to assist him in sleeping," Constance replied. "He does not remember anything of what happened, though."
"A whole month of his life is absent?" Anne asked in astonishment.
"That might be a very good thing for Aramis," Constance said. "To relive the torment he underwent would be awful. His mind is protecting him by keeping it from him."
"What does Dr. Lemay say?" Anne continued.
"He says Aramis is still not out of the woods, but he seems to feel much better about his chances now," Constance told her.
"Would you do me a favor, Constance?" Anne asked.
"You know I would do anything for you, Anne."
"I am going to have Cook make some special soups, and some pastries I know he likes. Would you bring them to him? Tell him who it is from when no one else can hear you, if you can," Anne said.
"Yes, Your Majesty, if we are alone, I can tell him that," Constance replied, to which Anne frowned. "I do not wish to be called by that title when we are alone together, Constance. You know that."
"Yes, Anne," Constance said, bringing the smile back to Anne's face again. She had no one else to confide in, and couldn't bear it if Constance spoke to her as if she was on such a higher level. Just once in a while, she wished to be like a normal, everyday person with her friend.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Four men exited a small farmhouse at the edge of the woods late that night. They left behind them a scene of destruction, a young woman lying dead in the midst of it.
They had been there for two days, uninterupted in their invasion. The woman's husband had unexpectedly gone to sell some of their early harvested crops in the markets of Paris, leaving her alone and unprotected.
She hadn't suspected anything when they had knocked on her door in the morning after her husband left. It had been so easy, they mused, discussing it as they left. She had struggled, but against four men she had stood no chance. They had been able to do as they pleased. The four men seemed to have a hatred for women, as was evidenced by what they had done to her. She didn't have the strength to put up much of a fight, but still they were violent and brutal in making her submit to their advances. There were some men who just seemed to enjoy dominating and subjecting a woman for the fun of it. Even after she quit resisting, they enjoyed physically hurting her, and went on that way for two days. When her body finally gave out on her, they cut her throat and ransacked the house, making it look as if she had been surprised by robbers.
Emile smiled as they left. "That was one of the easiest ones we've had," he commented, completely without remorse of what they had done. "And since we reconnoitred the area before first coming, we now can proceed to our next quarry. She isn't far from here, and her brother went with this one's husband to sell their crops. This is a fertile area for our activities," laughing, as they headed for the next farm to the east.
xxxxxxxxxxxxx
Constance had brought the food for Aramis at just the right time. Porthos and d'Artagnan had gone to give Treville a progress report when she knocked on Aramis' door. She couldn't believe her luck when it was only Athos in the room.
Aramis was asleep. She stood silently next to his bed, taking his still too-thin and pale body and the amount of bandaging. Tears began to fall down her cheeks as she sadly gazed at the usually exuberant and good-natured Musketeer, so silent now.
She laid the basket of food down,and turned to him. "Her Majesty insisted I bring this basket for Aramis. There is some specially-made soup, prepared by her own cook, as well as some pastries she believes he would like." Stopping a moment, she hurried on, "She asked me to tell Aramis who they were from, but the chances of him being awake while I am here and the others are not aren't very good. Would you be able to tell him some time, please?"
Athos, the only one who knew the Queen and Aramis' secret, slowly nodded his head. He worried constantly that the secret would come out, and he feared for his beloved brother's life if that happened. He knew, though, that hearing that Anne had done this for him would be a source of happiness for him, which could do nothing but aid him in recovering. "Very well," he responded. He just hoped that no one else found out.
Constance left soon after, and as she walked back to the palace, she pondered how in the world she would tell Anne the condition in which she had found Aramis. She wondered also how she would keep Anne from trying to find a way to come to her lover herself.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Athos had hoped so fervently that his brother could finally get a full night's sleep, but Aramis began to become restless once again as he slept, this time more frantic than the last. Athos lifted him into his arms to comfort him, remorse at what he had shared with his traumatized brother eating away at him. He had no idea how he could have avoided telling Aramis as much as he had, given the questions his brother had asked him. But now, he felt as if it had triggered an even worse nightmare. He held him close against his chest, keeping him from hurting himself as he attempted to pull away, probably thinking it was someone trying once more to hurt him.
To calm him, Athos began rocking him gently back and forth. Aramis gradually settled down, his body calming and his head coming to rest on Athos' shoulder, which is how Porthos, d'Artagnan and Treville found them when they came back through the door.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Treville had left and Porthos and d'Artagnan had settled down for a few hours rest. Athos had insisted they let him stay longer with Aramis, as his brother's head still rested on his shoulder, and he didn't want to disturb him while he was calm and asleep.
Athos closed his eyes as he stroked his fingers through Aramis' hair. Thus, he didn't see when Aramis' eyes started to move under his eyelids, as he began to wake up.
Aramis eyelids began to open, his mind still not quite all the way awake. His breathing quickened, as it had been doing each time he awoke, his heart beating too fast as well. But once his eyes were open, surprise registered and his heart and breathing evened out as he beheld where he was. He saw Athos' head almost touching him, and realized his head was lying on his brother's shoulder and he held him in his arms.
Safe, he thought. Waking up as he did had created in his mind a feeling of protection that eased all his fears. He thought to himself, my brothers love me, and are here for me. I'm safe. And as he drifted off once again to sleep, he thought how much he, too, loved his brothers.