After Lucifer left, Oriel looked in on Aramis again and found him in a restless sleep. The fever had returned and his breathing was punctuated by a slight rattling from time to time. Given his reluctance to take more than a small sip or two earlier, she hesitated to administer more of the healing herb mixture without his consent. She retrieved the cloth Aramis had haphazardly tossed aside and after dampening it, placed it on his forehead again. Oriel decided to wait on giving him more of the herbs deciding to keep watch over her patient and hope the fever broke in a few hours.
As evening fell Oriel unusually remained inside and sat by the fire to keep one eye on Aramis in case he should wake. Her mind ran over the recent events and she found herself wondering just how much Lucifer was involved with the Cardinal. While she relaxed in her chair, Oriel gathered firelight and shadow in her hands. They transformed into semi-solid shapes in her palm and she idly began twisting them around each other to form a rope before tossing it back into the flames.
Lost in her thoughts, Oriel took no notice of Aramis opening his eyes. He was certain his eyes must be deceiving him. She cupped her hand near the flames and the bright golden-orange tones of the fire seemed to pool in her palm. As he waited for his eyes to fully adjust to the darkness of the space, Aramis tried to make sense of what he was seeing.
As Aramis silently looked on, Oriel poured the firelight from one hand to another, enjoying the slight warmth it provided. With a smile, she recalled the first time she had gathered firelight as a very young child. Her adoptive parents were less thrilled and a bit taken aback by the demonstration. Her memories then jumped ahead years to a time that was less cheerful and light in her hands faded away. With the unpleasant thought fresh in her mind, Oriel quickly stood and just as quickly disappeared. Aramis' mouth dropped open a bit and his eyes widened. As he tried to sit up, pain shot through his side.
The musketeers rode more than rested in order to get back to Paris as soon as possible. Upon their arrival, they were immediately questioned about Aramis' whereabouts. Athos brushed off the inquiries as best he could and warned the others to keep quiet about what they knew.
Athos, Porthos, and D'Artagnan were sitting having a drink when they were summoned by Treville. They walked over to the Captain's quarters in silence after making a stop to pick up Aramis' sword and cloak. Before they entered the room, Athos told his companions that he would do the talking.
The Captain of the musketeers looked up from his desk and shared that there were many rumors swirling about Aramis. The trio nodded but didn't offer a word. A few of the other musketeers in the room looked at each other awaiting an outburst from the commander. With Treville continuing to glare at them, Athos, Porthos, and D'Artagnan looked toward the floor.
The older man stood up and was ready to demand an answer when he took notice of Aramis's sword and cloak in Athos's hands. His eyes fixed on the items for a minute or two before he walked closer to his best guards.
"Where is he?" Treville asked. "And I do not want to hear that he is relaxing in the company of a beautiful woman whose name you cannot disclose."
Porthos and D'Artagnan shared a glance under half-lidded eyes. Athos lifted his head to look his commander in the eye. He slowly shook his head. As the others realized the import of the gesture what little conversation that had been going on in the room suddenly stopped. Athos almost imperceptibly tilted his head towards the group that had gathered near the door.
Treville observed the small gesture and ordered the room clear. When the space was empty aside from Athos, Porthos, D'Artagnan, and himself, Treville sternly asked for some information regarding Aramis' condition. After a short, uncomfortable silence, Athos cleared his throat and did his best to explain what had occurred.
"Let me see if I understand. You left Aramis in a cottage on the edge of the Broceliande Forest after finding him seriously wounded?" Treville said.
They nodded in unison.
"And the person you left him with was not a doctor?"
"He wouldn't have made it to Paris," Porthos volunteered. His claim was backed by both Athos and D'Artagnan.
"We cannot allow anyone to know where he is," Athos said. "If Richelieu finds out he is alive, he will have the Red Guard finish their task."
"They will be looking for him anyway. If his body was not where they left it, they will assume he is alive," Treville said.
"We have his cloak and sword, and his horse is in the stable," D'Artagnan reminded him. "Surely that will be enough."
Treville replied that he hoped it was and put said items on this desk. After sitting back down, he asked what they were planning to do in the meantime while Aramis was hopefully recovering from his injuries.
"Find out which of the Red Guard did this and convince them to turn on Richelieu. If we could find Adele to learn what she knows of the whole thing would help as well," Porthos said.
"Richelieu can't be allowed to get away with this," Athos said while stomping back and forth in front of Treville's desk.
"He has the King's ear. If you aren't careful, the three of you will end up like Aramis," Treville replied.
When Aramis awoke the next morning, daylight was shining through the windows of the cottage. Oriel was seated near the fire just as she had been during the night. For a moment or two, he momentarily considered the possibility that he might have dreamed the events of the previous evening. As he shifted position in the bed a groan escaped, and Oriel turned her head.
"You're finally awake." Oriel walked over and looked him over carefully.
From the moment she turned her attention to him, Aramis had started praying under his breath. Having mostly dismissed the idea that his recollection was all a dream, he figured the prayers wouldn't hurt. He was still whispering as she stood over him.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"Praying." He noted that the expression on her face leaned more towards amusement than anger or fear.
"You have a bit of color today," Oriel told him and moved to feel his skin temperature. "And, your fever seems to have lessened. I guess it's working."
Aramis had done his best to remain still and not to pull away as her hand reached out. While he managed to control his movement, his muscles had tensed. Oriel had felt the tension when she touched him; it was a marked difference from when she was changing the dressing on his side. Although she looked at him curiously, she didn't mention his reaction and only asked if he was hungry.
His eyes narrowed. Although he was sure that something was very odd about his host, the thought of food was extremely enticing. Aramis suddenly realized that he was hungry and thirsty and did feel a slight bit better. He nodded.
Aramis cleared his throat and watched as Oriel picked up a dish. "Where am I?"
"This is my home." She looked around before answering with a droll expression.
He smiled. "But where?"
"The very far side of Saint-Péran at the start of the Broceliande woods."
"Broceliande. How did I get here?"
"Your friends brought you."
"And they left me?" Aramis asked as he struggled to sit up. He winced and ended up propping himself up on an elbow. "What did you do to them?"
Oriel picked her head up from the food she was preparing for him. Her eyes flashed and her expression was grim. "What did I do? I saved your life."
"Where are they?" he demanded.
"They went back to Paris to find the people responsible for injuring you. For some reason, they're rather attached to you and want to have them pay for what they did."
Oriel shook her head. The knife she was holding made a loud thud as she dropped it onto the table. She shot a sharp glance at Aramis as she walked towards the door. She had only gotten a few steps away when he called out and asked her to wait.
"I didn't mean to offend you. I'm still a bit feverish… and hungry." Aramis coyly smiled but didn't say a word about what he had witnessed the night before.
As she considered what he said, Oriel shook her head again. Although she didn't want to give in, she did realize that he did need to eat and was in no shape to get the food himself. Oriel looked at the door and then went back to the table. She picked up the knife she had dropped and pointed it in his direction.
"I'm not doing this because you smiled."
A short time later, she set his meal down on the edge of the table. After quickly checking the wound on his side and finding it no worse, Oriel helped him sit more upright. As she turned to pick up the dish, Aramis pulled at the bed sheet and suddenly realized he was naked. When Oriel turned back around, his face was flushed and his eyes were wide.
"Where are my pants?"
It was her turn to smile coyly. She took her time answering, thoroughly enjoying watching his confusion. "Getting them clean has not been easy. They're outside drying."
"And my shirt?"
"What was left of it went in the fire," Oriel said.
"In the fire? It was my favorite one."
"With the dirt, the blood, and the holes in it, it was not fit to be worn again," she replied and offered him a small deep dish that contained a slice of dark bread and ale.
Aramis looked at the dish and frowned. Oriel saw his expression and reminded him that he hadn't eaten in days. She promised that if he managed to keep that down and was hungry later, he could have a bit of something else. He grumbled but agreed.
Having come to an unspoken truce, Oriel attempted to engage Aramis in some conversation in the hopes to learn more about what had happened to him. "You don't remember anything of getting here?"
"The last thing I remember is being knocked off my horse by one of the Red Guard," Aramis replied as he dipped the bread in the ale. After taking a bite, he found that it wasn't as bad as he had initially thought.
When Oriel asked why he was alone, Aramis told her that he had told the others to go on ahead while he was looking for Adele. He was surprised to learn that Oriel not only recognized the name but also knew of the situation between him and the woman. Aramis then asked if Oriel had heard any news about Adele or the Cardinal.
"Nothing. Most of the villagers around here avoid the forest," she said.
Aramis nodded and coughed on a piece of bread. He waved Oriel away as she got up to help him. "But you're not afraid to live here?"
"I like the forest and find the quiet very peaceful."