A/N: We start right where we left off with the previous fic (and basically the end of the show for those who may not have read the series). And there's a sex scene towards the middle of the last section that briefly goes into mature territory
A new beginning
"Mama!" Louis shouted, giggling as he ran over to his mother and hid from his governess behind Anne's skirts.
"Darling, did you say hello to Aramis?" Anne asked, bringing Louis in front of her. It was then that Aramis realized that the ribbons on Anne's sleeves were the same shade of blue as Louis' doublet and breeches. A matching pair they were, in their light blues and creams, and with their golden hair. Louis didn't have Anne's blue eyes though, his eyes were brown, eyes Aramis himself had inherited from his own mother.
"He said he's going to live here with us!"
"Indeed he is. He's going to help us end the war and take care of our people."
"And I've agreed to accompany His Majesty on the occasional musketeer adventure," Aramis reminded Anne, winking at his son.
Anne smiled at him, but then she looked past his shoulder and something she saw caused her face to fall. He opened his mouth to ask what was the matter, but Anne's eyes quickly darted away.
"Louis, look! Your pony is ready."
Aramis looked towards the palace to see a groomsman standing with a miniature pony at the end of the lawn. He glanced back at Anne, confused, and she mouthed "Milady" over Louis' head. Resisting the urge to turn around and look, he nodded and Anne returned her attention to their son. "Why don't you show Aramis what a good rider you are."
"You know how to ride already, Sire? " Aramis asked, only partially feigning the awe in his voice.
Louis nodded and proudly lifted his chin again. "My Papa said I'm a natural."
Aramis felt a pang in his heart, remembering what the King had told him outside the mausoleum, to not have been the one who taught his son how to ride, but he focused his mind on the fact that he was here now, and there was still so much for Louis to learn.
MMMMMMMMMM
Leaving Louis with his governess and Aramis, Anne made her way inside, wondering how Milady was able to move so freely about, and more importantly how well her assignment went.
She was already in her bedroom when Anne got there.
"It's done?"
Milady bowed her head.
"And no one saw you?"
Milady's lips quirked up as if to laugh. "Only the dead man, Majesty."
Anne swallowed down the other questions that were rising up her throat. The ones that wondered what Gaston's last moments were like. Was it quick or did he know what was about to happen? Did he try to weasel out of the consequences of his actions as always and make offers of wealth and power? Did he fight for his life? Did he suspect who was behind it?
Conscience is a cruel companion Milady had told her, but her conscience was resolute in the fact that her son was now safe from him. That's all that mattered. Her son was safe and so was France.
"Good," she said, and sat down at her desk. "I will send for you when I need you again, but before you go, tell me, how exactly do you move about the palace undetected? Surely you're not just using the tunnels and the servant's passageways."
Milady smirked. "No," she admitted. "I am not. There are secret passageways within the palace originally meant to be used by the royal family in times of crisis. It's like a maze though, with so little to indicate where you are." She sighed. "They're often more trouble than they're worth," she flashed her eyes up at her, "but I suspect you'd only be interested in a single route, one that leads to the First Minister's quarters."
Anne could feel the heat rise in her cheeks. "Why wou-"
"There's no need for that," Milady quickly interjected, looking increasingly smug. "I know that Aramis is the King's true father," she stated. "I must admit, I wasn't expecting such a bold move as to make him First Minister, but Your Majesty is apparently full of surprises."
Closing her mouth, Anne collected herself. "The Cardinal, did he know?"
Milady tilted her head to the side. "Can't say, I left his service before the happy announcement. But knowing His Eminence, he probably at least suspected."
"And how is it that you found out?"
"Rochefort," Milady answered, and Anne suddenly felt cold, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up. "He asked me to find out any information regarding Your Majesty and Aramis. I didn't, you should be glad to hear, but then your dear musketeers confirmed it when they enlisted my help. Quite an accomplishment though, to pull off such a deception and get away with it."
Anne bristled at Milady's tone, as if it was all some big con Anne had come up with to exercise power over Louis and not because of necessity, to keep Aramis and their son from harm. So many sleepless nights spent worrying about someone questioning the timing of her pregnancy, about Louis not believing her.
"Have you not found the key to that?" Milady suddenly asked, looking pointedly at the small dark chest sitting on Anne's desk.
Blinking, Anne looked down at it. She had been going through Louis' things when she came across the chest, but she had yet to find a key. She shook her head.
Reaching a hand behind her head, Milady then presented her with a short hairpin, and Anne stared at it for a second before taking it. Whatever was in the chest probably only had sentimental value, and she wanted to get it out of the way.
While Anne stuck the hairpin into the keyhole and began pressing it around, Milady went over to one of the flower arrangements and began gathering some of the stems.
"What are you doing?"
"A way to mark the route, for now at least."
MMMMMMMMMM
He was still with his son when Milady caught his eye, beckoning him over. After making his excuses to Louis about getting back to work, he followed her into the entrance of the tunnel she had led them into years ago when they had to spirit Anne away to the convent.
"Minister," Milady greeted with an exaggerated bow. "Last I heard, you were going to renounce all your possessions and become a monk."
"Almost, never took the orders though."
"Couldn't bear the thought of the haircut?" she japed. "Pity, if you became a priest you could have had the little King calling you 'Father.'"
Aramis clenched his jaw at the barb. "You're not supposed to be talking to me."
Milady lifted her chin sanctimoniously. "I had a direct order from Her Majesty to find you and bid you return to your office. She has a surprise for you, consider it a gift from me for the both of you."
"It's not a head on a platter I hope."
Milady scoffed lightly. "No, though I probably could have turned his head into a weapon like Perseus, the man was so gorgon-esque."
"How did you do it?" Aramis asked seriously.
"A blade in the back and a bullet to the head."
"And you were gone before anyone came to investigate the shot?"
She rolled her eyes. "Yes, no one saw me. You know, I really don't see the point of not reporting to the both of you together if you're just going to be asking the same questions."
"It would arouse suspicion if I'm seen-"
"Yes, I've taken care of that too," she said, smiling smugly. "Her Majesty is waiting for you, I suggest you go and find her already."
Aramis watched her go and then murmured to himself, "Find her?" Didn't she say Anne was in his office?
He went straight to his office then, only to find it empty. He went into his adjoining bedchamber to see if she was in there, but it was empty as well.
"Aramis, in here," he suddenly heard Anne say from the office.
Thoroughly confused as to how she must have been right behind him in the corridor without him noticing, he walked back into the room...yet there was no sight of her.
He heard soft laughter coming from the furthest wall and then he watched in surprise as a bookshelf swung open to reveal a smiling Anne.
"What?" he said, walking over to examine the hidden door. "I never knew about this."
"Me neither," Anne replied, showing him where the latch was to open and close it. "And there's more." Stepping back into the little alcove, Anne pressed something else and another faux wall opened on the left into a dimly lit corridor.
"Secret passageways?" He knew it was possible, and had always suspected there were some within the palace, but he supposed being a musketeer only concerned with guarding the royal family outside the palace, he was not privy to such information.
Anne looked back at him, eyes bright. "Yes, and Milady marked the path to my room."
Taking his hand, Anne led him through, and they followed a trail of flowers that had been laid on the stone floor. The somewhat narrow passage was cold and dimly lit by slits of light coming through small windows near the ceiling. It all reminded him of being in a cell.
Along the way, Anne explained how her old bedroom, being in a newer part of the palace, didn't have a direct entrance to this old network of passageways, answering the question forming in his mind regarding the time of Rochefort's attempted coup.
After ascending a spiral staircase and turning a couple more corners, the flowers stopped in front of a door and Anne opened it, stepping into what was previously her husband's room. Aramis followed her out. They were right by the window, and had to step around her prie dieu. He inspected the door as he closed it, seeing how neatly the seams hid behind the paneling, mirroring the opposite panels perfectly. Even a painting hung on the door.
"Well, that certainly makes things easier. We'll have to do some exploring sometime," he commented, interested in learning where the other paths led. He'd also have to oil the hinges, for the doors had creaked and groaned a little when opened. He turned to Anne. "So Milady completed her assignment," he said, walking over to where she stood by the fireplace.
Anne took a deep breath and nodded. "And now we must prepare for news to reach Paris."
They discussed how they should react, reiterating how Grimaud or Lorraine's men could be connected. Anne took out a pile of letters from a small chest on her desk. They were the ones Gaston had lost at Christophe's inn, the ones in which he talked of gathering an army to usurp his brother. They could be used as evidence if needed.
Once they finished discussing their plan of action, Aramis recounted his visit to the garrison and how the clean-up was progressing.
"We'll have to invite Elodie and Marie-Cessette to the palace so you can properly meet them," he said.
"The woman at the blessing with the baby? A friend of Constance's?"
"Yes, and Porthos' wife and daughter."
Anne stood there for a couple of seconds before turning to Aramis, her brow furrowed. "His…oh God-" Her eyes widened and then her hands went up and covered her face. "Why didn't anyone tell me! I just sent him to the front!" she said, though the exclamation was muffled behind her hands.
Going over to her, Aramis gently pulled her hands down, smiling fondly at her. "It's all right, it's all right, they married after you made him general. Elodie's a war widow we met while on the hunt for Grimaud, Porthos helped deliver her baby. God forbid something should happen to him out on the front, his pension will see them taken care of. They knew what they were doing."
"So he's adopted them as his own," said Anne, understanding now. "Does he love her?"
"It's all still very new, but I think so." He brushed his thumbs over Anne's knuckles, thinking of his own early encounters with her. "Sometimes you know right away that something's there. A spark that just needs to be fed."
MMMMMMMMMM
It wasn't until after she tucked Louis into bed and dismissed her maids for the night that Anne had the chance to further inspect the chest of letters. Putting the tied stack of Gaston's treasonous letters aside, she leafed through the rest of the contents. It was mainly correspondence between Louis and his brothers: Louis forgiving Gaston and asking him to return, and before that asking Philippe to be Governor of Paris. There were even a few letters from his mother.
Taking out the last of the letters, she still heard the scraping of parchment, and assumed a letter had simply fallen flat. She brought the chest closer and stuck her hand in, gathering up not just another letter, but also a larger piece of paper that had been folded several times in order to fit into the bottom of the chest.
She looked more closely at the wrinkled and worn letter, only to see her own broken seal stamped upon it. Opening it, she then saw her handwriting and the words, "My Darling Brother" at the top. Her stomach sank. It was the letter she had written to Philip after Louis had been captured by slavers, the one Rochefort has used to initially accuse her of treason. Louis had kept it.
Her gaze slid over to the folded piece of paper with an increasing sense of dread. This was not a box that held loving sentiments; at some point or another, she and the others had betrayed Louis.
But this wasn't a letter though, and it was buried at the bottom, underneath the only letter from her.
As she started to unfold it, she didn't recognize the tiny handwriting to be Louis' or any of the previous correspondents, and the formatting was that of a transcript. Scanning over the words near the bottom of the sheet, she spotted the names "Lady Marguerite," "Dauphin," and finally "Aramis."
Unfolding the top, she gasped as she read the official heading. It was the transcript from Aramis' trial.
She had thought-foolishly, she now realized-that something like this would have been rid of once Rochefort had been proved a spy and that his accusations were lies. But Louis had kept this too.
She read it then, and her heart ached for Aramis, for what he did for her, and how he defended her, despite the consequences. She felt a pang of pity upon reading Marguerite's anguished cries for Aramis and knowing what she did after the trial, but it was her who confirmed Rochefort's accusations and named Aramis as the Dauphin's father, her words that condemned them all.
And Louis had kept it.
He never fully believed her innocence. Why keep it otherwise? Why not destroy such dangerous accusations unless he thought there might be a need to present them later on, either as blackmail or evidence for a divorce from her, and an order of arrest and execution for Aramis. If not for his illness, he very well might have gone through with something after Aramis confirmed to have slept with her, if he hadn't run out of time.
Taking the candelabra off her desk, she made her way over to the hidden door. She wanted to see Aramis. They had come so close, so close to losing everything.
He was at his desk when she entered the office. "You're early," he said with a smile, but she didn't return it, and his face fell as he glanced at the papers clutched in her hand. "What's wrong?"
She merely held out the papers and waited for him to come over and take them from her. "He kept them."
It didn't take long for Aramis to realize what the letter was and his jaw to tense. Folding it back up, he then opened up the transcript, but he was quick to realize what that was too, and he let his hands drop as he stared ahead and breathed out through his mouth.
Looking back at her, he took the candelabra from her hand. "Follow me," he said in a low voice, and led her into his bedroom.
Setting the candelabra on a side table, he tossed the papers onto the bed, and then proceeded to start a fire in the small stove in the corner of the room. Once the fire was lit, he handed back her letter while he took the transcript.
With a nod from him, she stepped forward, and looked over the letter one last time before feeding it to the flames. Aramis added the transcript next and took her hand as they watched the papers blacken and curl as the fire ate away at them.
"Aramis?" Anne began once the papers had been reduced to ash. He turned his head to her and she met his eyes. "Make love to me?"
Without a word he brought his other hand up to cup her cheek before leaning in to softly kiss her. And then it was like the night at the convent; the need for comfort, to feel loved, alive. There was no hesitation this time though, no need for him to ask for further permission to undress her, to touch her. Laying on the bed while he laid wet kisses along her neck and then gently sucked at her collarbone, she simply closed her eyes and let herself be swept away.
She never wanted to let him go, never wanted him to leave her embrace, but the urgency in the way he said her name told her he was about to reach his own peak, and so she relaxed her hold and he pulled away, spilling his seed on her stomach.
Breathing heavily, Aramis sat back on his haunches and gently squeezed her calf before getting up and going over to the washstand to bring her a cloth to wipe herself down with.
Taking the cloth back once she was finished, Aramis put it aside and laid down next to her on the bed, pulling the sheet up to their chests as he did and then holding his arm up so that she could curl into his side. Once they were settled, she ran her hand across his chest, her fingers brushing against his necklace. Picking up the roughly cut blue stone, she turned it over in her fingers.
"I don't have it anymore," he said. "Your crucifix. Grimaud took it when he held me hostage. Cast it into the fire. Though during my escape attempt I did manage to unlock my shackles with it before it completely melted."
Anne leaned up on her elbow. "You mean you still had it at the monastery? And when you came back? This whole time?"
He smiled sadly. "I'm sorry I lost it."
She shook her head. "Don't be. It...don't be."
"What is it?" he asked, brushing the back of his knuckles against her arm.
Her gaze fell. "I'm glad it served you till the end, but the crucifix, it was how Rochefort realized there was something between us."
His eyes darkened and he sat up against the headboard. She could feel his gaze boring into her.
"He had given it to me before I left for France. I had forgotten and...he recognized it on you."
Something between a sigh and a groan came from Aramis. "Marguerite. It went missing one day and she found it. After...I suspected she had taken it, and found out it had been yours." He shook his head. "It was him she took it to." His gaze dropped and he grew quiet. His eyes were soft when they met hers and it made her want to just crawl into his arms and cry. "And then he confronted you about it?"
Anne closed her eyes and nodded as the memory came flooding back. "He came to my room, told me that he saw you wearing it but that he would forgive me if I told him I loved him and that we could be together. When I tried to turn him away, to stop him, he…"
"Ana," she heard Aramis faintly say, telling her she didn't have to go on, but she wasn't going to let the memory of that man silence her.
She took a deep, steadying breath. "He had me pinned down on the floor when Constance came and gave me the chance to reach for my hairpin and strike him. It got him off me, but he was crying treason as he left."
"I'm so sorry you had to go through that, Ana. I'm so so sorry. I wish I could have protected you from him."
She shook her head. "I shouldn't have so blindly trusted him. If only I had remembered, if I had listened to Constance and realized...he had been manipulating me the whole time and I was too foolish to see it."
"It is not your fault. Please, don't do this to yourself. I spent so much time at the monastery letting my guilt eat away at me, wanting to punish myself for the mistakes I made and the things I should have done differently. But you can't always know how your choices will turn out, and some things are just out of our control. Rochefort, he was Hell-bent on having you."
"And Marguerite?"
"Marguerite had wanted me, and I wanted to want her, but deep down I only wanted to protect my son. I used her love for me and only told her that I did not wholly return her feelings once it was too late. I let the Cardinal scare me and put you all in danger."
"The Cardinal?"
"He had Father Allard deliver a threat to me after his funeral. Told me the Cardinal knew my secrets and would see me and my loved ones destroyed."
She pushed herself further up onto the pillows. "Aramis..."
"I should have gone to you about it, I even went to your apartments, but with Marguerite I thought I could watch over my son while keeping my distance from you."
"As I had told you to do," Anne said remorsefully, thinking back to the promise they had made in the gardens.
"You were only trying to protect us."
"As were you, and I forgave you long ago for it."
Aramis bowed his head and brought her hand to his lips, kissing it tenderly, after which Anne shifted closer to him, and leaned against his chest as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders once more.
"This is why I hired Milady," Anne softly declared. "I will not stand by and let another monster hurt my family. Or my people."
A/N: Hey everyone! I know I said I don't like to start posting until 95% of the fic is done but...this is taking a while. I'm more than halfway through (having written over 40,000 words!), and like I said, I have an ending, I just have to fill in and connect everything in between. And so, for those of you who might still be following the series, I thought I'd start giving you Something, and feedback can be a great motivator ;)
Also, this chapter is dedicated to erinsgirl, who has been waiting for Anne and Aramis' conversation about Rochefort and Marguerite since I posted my 2x09 chapter. Hope it was worth the wait!
Historical background/inspiration:
-In 1637, Anne had to sign a confession and basically a behavioral agreement after she was found to have been writing to her brother Ferdinand, and others. After she became regent, Anne "took the trouble at about this time to go through Louis XIII's papers and destroyed the originals of the humiliating confessions and agreements she had been forced to sign in 1637" -Ruth Kleinman, Anne of Austria