A/N: Thank you Undertheoaktrees, Lauraline94, Issai, SnidgetHex, and pallysAramisRios for reviewing!

No. 9 - RUMORS OF MY DEATH HAVE BEEN GREATLY EXAGGERATED

Milady's word couldn't be trusted. She was a deceitful viper; nearly every phrase that spilled from her forked tongue dripped with lies.

"Aramis is dead."

Athos couldn't let himself believe her. He barely believed her story about the King and Queen being in danger, but it was a threat he couldn't ignore, so he rode out, half expecting nothing, half expecting the worst. When they found the observatory under guard and that part of Milady's tale confirmed, Athos felt a twinge in his chest at the other. But he couldn't let himself be distracted by it. She was still untrustworthy. Besides, they had yet to come across a body.

And then when they did happen upon Aramis, alive and well, Athos had dismissed his concern as unfounded. They rescued the King and Queen and everyone was returned home safely. Except for Milady. Her heroic actions had not won her favor with Louis. Athos couldn't decide whether he felt any sympathy for her or not.

It wasn't until later, when d'Artagnan was giving his report to Treville, that Athos learned she hadn't been lying about Aramis. Marmion had pushed him out a window from the top floor. There was no reason for anyone to think he had survived that. And yet he had. The man had nine lives.

That should have been the end of it, but that night Athos found himself going over the events of the day over and over.

"Aramis is dead."

He hadn't let himself believe it, but it could have been true. It should have been true. He hadn't witnessed the marksman's dramatic exit through the window, but he'd seen the haunted look in d'Artagnan's eyes as he'd relayed the tale. Aramis had been covered in a myriad of small cuts and abrasions, but nothing serious. It should have been worse. It could have been devastating.

Athos ended up outside Aramis's room at the barracks. It was late and most people were asleep. There was a single candle flickering against the closed drapes, which didn't necessarily mean Aramis was still up; sometimes he kept a light going all night, usually around a certain Easter anniversary.

Athos gripped the doorknob and quietly turned it, slipping inside. Aramis was in bed but shifting as though trying to find a comfortable position. He didn't hear Athos come in. His hair was damp and there was a smear of pink on the pillow case. Athos's stomach tightened.

"Aramis."

Aramis startled and jerked his head up, then dropped it back down with a sigh. "Don't do that."

"Apologies."

Aramis squinted at him. "What is it? Is something wrong?"

Athos could have rolled his eyes. "Rumors of your death were greatly exaggerated, but I suspect your injuries are not."

Aramis waved a dismissive hand. "Nothing serious."

"It's preventing you from sleeping."

"So are midnight visitors."

Athos grabbed a chair and dragged it over to sit by the bed, eyes roving over his friend now that he was only dressed in his small clothes. The many nicks and cuts had been cleaned but were still bright red, and there was a bandage around Aramis's thigh.

"Nothing serious?" he repeated with an arched brow.

Aramis rolled his eyes. "Bits of glass and splintered wood. Some of them bigger than others."

"Did you stitch your leg yourself?"

Aramis lolled a dry look at him. "No. For one thing, I couldn't reach it. Lemay came by at the Queen's behest."

Athos's back stiffened.

"They all saw me go out that window," Aramis said pointedly. "It's not like it's special treatment."

Athos supposed no one besides him would see it that way. "What about your head?"

"Not exactly easy to stitch. Lemay picked out all the glass though."

Athos's gaze travelled to the stain on the pillow, then around the room. "Did he leave you anything for the pain?"

"It wasn't that bad."

"But it is now."

Aramis sighed. "Everything's stiffening up," he admitted. "I'm not sure I'll be able to move much tomorrow."

"Is there anything that will help?" Athos asked.

Aramis considered him for a moment, then responded in a subdued voice, "Heated bricks might."

Athos stood up. "I'll be back."

"You don't have to—"

Athos ignored him and exited the room to track down some bricks. There were some in the common room, so he stacked several in his arms and returned to Aramis's room, then proceeded to build up a fire in the fireplace so he could heat the implements.

"I'm surprised Porthos isn't here," Athos commented.

"I convinced him I was fine and to get some rest. He didn't need to aggravate his shoulder sitting in a chair all night."

Athos stayed crouched by the hearth, turning the bricks to get them evenly warmed, then brought them one by one to the bed. Aramis shifted and pointed to where Athos should lay them against his back. Aramis tensed slightly, then relaxed.

"Thank you," he murmured.

Athos retook his seat in the chair.

Aramis opened one eye to look at him. "You don't have to stay."

"I know."

The reality was, truth, lie, or exaggeration, the realization that Aramis could have very well been killed today was harder for Athos to swallow than he'd thought. He'd abandoned his duty because he couldn't stomach watching his wife flaunt her new status as the King's mistress. And it wasn't as though his being there would have changed what happened. No, likely he would have seen what the others saw—Aramis pushed out that window to his death.

So maybe Athos's presence at the observatory was inconsequential. But it wasn't here. Not tonight.