Considering how the last chapter ended, I thought it might be a good idea to give some insight into d'Artagnan's thought processes.
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Chapter Forty-eight: Tempest
Before Athos had even finished speaking, d'Artagnan was already feeling completely overwhelmed by everything he was hearing.
He hadn't known what to expect, and tried listening with an open mind. Learning about Thomas, Athos becoming comte, Athos's wife, and the murder of the older man's brother… D'Artagnan had never expected to learn so much about Athos's life before the Musketeers. Up until now, he'd known very little of the man's past, but now it all seemed far too much; he felt as if he'd mistakenly been made privy to something intimate, something he shouldn't know anything about.
D'Artagnan couldn't help but wonder if Aramis and Porthos knew even half this much. Athos had always seemed such a private person; to learn even one-fifth of what he now knew was surprising. Yet, Athos had been right. It had eventually become painfully clear why the older man had needed to tell him as much as he had.
In the beginning, he couldn't help but smile at the reference to Athos as a young child. Then, as Athos spoke of the loneliness he'd felt as he longed for a brother, d'Artagnan remembered his own longing for a sibling. A brief flicker of jealousy had flared within him at the first mention that Athos had had his wish for a sibling granted. That flicker of jealousy had swiftly been replaced by guilt and regret when he remembered the shocking end to Thomas's life.
With the first mention of Athos's wife, d'Artagnan knew that shocking end was coming, how the story would unfold, and he tried to stop the older man from continuing, but Athos had insisted. D'Artagnan had said something; he couldn't remember what anymore, knowing the toll that part of the story would take on Athos. Because of the amnesia, the older man had already had to carry the burden of his actions surrounding his brother's death twice now. How much was this recounting going to cost the man?
Despite everything that had gone on between them, he still didn't want Athos to suffer – and that included taking more damage to the man's already beat up heart and soul. Yet, he knew there was a point to the overall story, one that would provide an answer to his question by the end of it. For that reason alone, and selfish though it might be, he let the tale continue to unfold.
When the inescapable conclusion to that part of the story came, he'd at first been glad he had been spared the pain of losing a sibling. Then, the realization had struck him that he knew exactly how that felt. For some time now, Athos had been lost to him – a man who he had once considered one of his three older brothers. He knew that pain all too well now, and wasn't sure he could or would ever forget it.
Yet, even that wasn't the most devastating part of Athos's tale.
What had taken him totally unawares and struck him dumb was the older man's admission of how and why Athos had come to hate him so much. The older man had been adamant it was not "hate," but in his opinion it was close enough. It had certainly felt like hate to him more often than not.
Athos had briefly, in his pain and confusion – and likely fear – thought he had been Thomas! From the painting that had been in the gallery at Athos's manor house, he'd noticed that he and Thomas had similar coloring, but did not look enough alike for them to be mistaken for each other had they ever been in the same room together. It had been the realization that he had not been Thomas which had been the catalyst for Athos turning against him.
Athos had called it a perfect storm. It occurred to him that "perfect storms" seemed to be the story of his life. His mother's death, which had taken away his only chance of having a sibling, and being taught the sword to lift his and his father's spirits. His father's murder coinciding with meeting the Musketeers and making the decision to start over in Paris. The loss of his farm and income as well as Constance, followed shortly by becoming the King's Champion and gaining his commission. Athos getting shot and having amnesia, resulting in d'Artagnan losing his friends and what seemed to be everything else, simply because he hadn't been a blood brother. Athos in danger and saving the man's life, only to get shot, lose his ability to walk, and facing an uncertain future.
A perfect storm… He was so very tired of such things occurring in his life. In his mind, the word "perfect" had evolved to refer to something different than originally intended, it's meaning supplanted just as Aramis and Porthos continued to tell him that his definition of "fine" was not like everyone else's.
To hear about all of the wrong choices that had been made only served to remind him of the near-constant emotional upheaval that had been recently been plaguing his life. Athos's confession to having made all the wrong ones regarding him had bestowed an odd sort of relief upon him. If any one of those choices had been made differently, he imagined his life could have been much easier to bear these past weeks. He wondered how different things could have been had some of the right choices been made. Would he have felt so alone? Would he still have had doubts about remaining a Musketeer?
The apology had been expected and hoped for in equal measure, but what he hadn't expected was for it to be so heartfelt. Athos had a way of imparting so much more subtext and emotion into his words than almost everyone he had ever known. Even in the absolute darkness of their room, the way the older man had phrased his words, had enabled d'Artagnan to easily picture Athos's expression and stance as if the man had been standing right in front of him to apologize. He was absolutely certain Athos meant every word even though there had been such an economy of them. They had come from the depths of the man's heart and soul.
He'd wanted and deserved an apology for so, so long… A thrill of intense satisfaction went through him upon hearing it said. But it was soon chased by uncertainty. Not every wrong had been addressed. Were the words enough of an apology regardless of how heartfelt they were? Was it enough for Athos to say that he would try to make up for his wrong choices?
Could he forgive? Should he forgive?
His turbulent thoughts were interrupted by Athos calling his name.
So overwhelmed by what he'd recently heard, d'Artagnan couldn't bring himself to immediately respond to Athos. The endless loop of thoughts, emotions, and questions was leaving him feeling out of sorts as a result.
D'Artagnan knew he had to say something, so he exhaled a shaky breath and replied, "I'm here."
He wanted to say more, wanted to delve deeper into the choices and hurts, but d'Artagnan couldn't seem to organize his thoughts now that he had realized Athos was waiting for some sort of response. His thoughts were a whirlwind within his mind refusing to slow down and coalesce into anything truly coherent.
Even the two words he had just uttered had been difficult to pluck out of his head and get his tongue to speak. In this moment, he desperately wanted the conversation to end; his head was too full and he couldn't stand the idea of the whirlwind getting larger within his mind, afraid his head might burst if it continued to grow.
Clarity of thought seemed impossible in the near future. He needed time to calm the tempest within him and consider all he had heard so he could formulate a worthy response. Right now, he simply couldn't. So, he said the only thing he could think to say, despite knowing Athos would not react well to it.
D'Artagnan repositioned himself so that he was lying on his back once more and fixed his covers before he said, "Thank you for explaining that to me." Exhaling another shaky breath in an attempt to contain the emotions which were bubbling up and over within him, he added, "Good night."
Immediately, he could feel Athos's shift in mood despite the darkness that encompassed them. He was certain the older man was becoming angry with him for seemingly brushing Athos off after all the intimate details that had recently been imparted. D'Artagnan knew how difficult it was for Athos to share anything of his previous life, but the absence of a more suitable reaction could not be helped. He was not blithely or callously disregarding all he had heard, but it was simply too much for him to handle at the moment.
Time. That was all he needed right now. He needed time for the whirlwind to die down so he could process what he'd heard.
Expecting harsh words in reprisal, d'Artagnan was surprised to instead hear a controlled breath, one intended to calm, before he heard Athos reply, "Good night."
It was a good attempt at an even tone of voice, but d'Artagnan could still hear the frustration and annoyance in the space between the two words that had been spoken.
D'Artagnan wondered if either of them would be able to get any sleep after this first true talk between them since before Athos's amnesia. At the moment, it didn't seem very likely.
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To be continued
Next time: Chapter Forty-nine: Deliberations
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A/N: Happy Thanksgiving to all those who are celebrating the holiday this week! I am very thankful to all those who take time out of their busy schedules in order to continue to read and review this story. Thank you!
Many thanks to Celiticgal1041 for proofing this chapter for me. Remaining mistakes are my fault.
Thanks for reading!
