Aramis frowned as the flames blurred into on another, ending to be just on orange spot. He blinked a few times and looked around the room a few times but it didn't get better.
He put the cup beside the almost empty bottle and pushed himself out of the armchair just to fall right back into it as his legs gave in.
He tried again, this time with more success. Even though his legs felt heavier as they should have been and his head lighter than ever, he managed to stay upright by prompting himself against the wall.
What was wrong with him?
He took a wobbly step forward, almost falling down again as he stumbled over his own feet.
As he leaned against the wall and tried to breath through the terrible feeling of dizziness he felt how dry his mouth had become even though he had just drank?
It was a short moment of clarity in his misted mind. The wine. The wine they had been gifted from the Duke d'Orleans. The same wine his brothers had gotten too.
He had to warn them.
Gathering his strength Aramis pushed himself off the wall and stumbled to the door. Glad that he just had to push the door instead of pulling, he managed to open it and staggered outside. The fresh air was like ice on his overheated skin and as rain hit his skin he had to fight the urge to catch the water with his mouth. God, he was so thirsty.
He had almost forgotten about his mission to inform his brothers as their laughter beamed across the courtyard. He shook his head, trying to clear his mind with restrained success and clang to the railing as he walked over to the stairs.
As he reached them, he finally was able to see his brothers, sitting on their usual table with three opened bottles in front of them.
"No!" He shouted, trying to get down the stairs faster as he saw Athos putting the bottle to his lips.
Aramis soon learned the hard way that running down stairs in his state was a bad idea. He lost his footage and fell the last three steps down, landing on the wet ground with a thud and a pained groan.
At least his spectacular entrance had the desired effect and Athos put the bottle down, frowning at him with concern. D'Artagnan was already by his side, trying to hide a laugh.
"Have you already had too much wine?" He asked, a grin on his lips as he tried to help Aramis stand. But since he had unintentionally laid down, Aramis didn't want to get up again. The throbbing in his head had lessened a bit, even though his body had more problems to orientate it self and he suddenly felt sick.
There was to time for warning as he started retching beside d'Artagnan's feet.
"How much did you have?" Porthos asked, voice now laced with more concern than humour as he took in the poor state his friend was in. D'Artagnan too had lost the grin and had now his hand placed on his brother's back to give him some kind of comfort.
"The wine." Aramis breathed after he was done, turning to lie on his back and let the cold rain cool down his skin.
"Don't drink it." He added as he noticed that the other's needed more explanation than two words.
"Why not? Because you can't tolerate some alcohol?" Porthos huffed and tried to bring some humour back in the situation.
Aramis shook his head, wincing at the motion brought back the pain.
"It's laced." He explained, eyes now closed.
He was glad that he had already vomited and with that – hopefully - brought the most of whatever poison it was out of his system, because Aramis noticed how he slipped away slowly. He knew his brothers wouldn't have known what to do, but he hoped that the worst was already over and he would just need to sleep it off.
"Control… breathing." He only whispered before his mind shut out completely.