A/N: A piece I did for Comfortember this year.
Comfortember No. 16 Shelter
It had been dreary weather for a whole week, drizzling rain off and on enough to turn everything wet and muddy. Not a single glimpse of sunshine had managed to pierce the pewter cloud cover currently smothering the city of Paris and surrounding countryside. Everyone was beginning to feel damp and miserable. At least the weather had kept the king huddled indoors, so the musketeers weren't required to stand parade out in this drab gloom. But being cooped up wasn't good for soldiers, so Treville started sending them on patrols through the city, just to keep them occupied and out of his hair.
It started raining more heavily on one of those outings, and so Aramis, Porthos, Athos, and d'Artagnan had stopped under an archway for shelter to wait it out.
"We could just go to a tavern instead," Porthos said.
Athos gave him a dry look.
Porthos snorted. "Like you ain't thinking it."
Athos didn't deign to respond.
Aramis's lips twitched and he turned his head up toward the slate sky. The weather didn't dampen his mood that much, but he would prefer a respite from it.
As he shifted his gaze around the street, he caught sight of something huddled under a pile of broken pallets across the way. Curious, he set out into the rain to investigate. It was the scraggliest looking kitten he had ever laid eyes on, with wiry fur and whiskers and squinty eyes. The poor thing was wet and covered in mud, and looked too ill to put up the proper kitten hostility toward a stranger intruding upon his hiding place.
Aramis looked around for the mother, even poked around some nearby detritus, but there was no sign of her. He wondered if the runt had been abandoned or simply gotten lost.
D'Artagnan came over, frowning as rain pelted him. "What are you doing?"
Aramis bent down and reached in to pick up the kitten. He felt a gurgling protest rumble in its tiny body, but he captured it securely in his gloved hands before it could rouse enough to put up a vicious fight.
D'Artagnan's brows rose to his hairline. "Really?"
"You think I should leave it out in this?" Aramis rejoined. "It's halfway to the grave."
D'Artagnan shrugged and followed him back to the cover of the archway. Porthos and Athos were watching them curiously.
"What you got there?" Porthos asked, leaning in to take a look and immediately scrunching his face up. "What the hell are you playing at picking up a drowned rat?"
"It's not a rat, it's a kitten."
Athos arched a bored brow at it. "It looks like a rat."
"He just needs a bath and some food," Aramis said, instantly feeling defensive of the poor creature. "I'll see you back at the garrison."
He left his friends to finish up the patrol themselves and slogged through the rain back to his room in the garrison. There wasn't really a good place to set the kitten where it might not escape while Aramis got settled, so he ended up putting it in the empty piss bucket while he made a run to the storeroom for extra towels and some soap. He then stopped by the kitchen for milk and fresh water.
The water was cold, so he kindled a fire in the hearth and set the water near it to warm. It wouldn't do to freeze the small creature the rest of the way. While the water was heating up, Aramis grabbed one of the towels and picked up the kitten again, wrapping it up snugly before taking a seat at the table and gently massaging some warmth into the tiny thing. He poured some milk into a shallow saucer and held it under the cat's face, but it didn't take any. Frowning, Aramis dipped his finger into the liquid and rubbed it into the kitten's gums.
At first it seemed this might be a lost cause after all, but the kitten started to stir, and when Aramis held his milk covered fingers under its nose, it began to lick them. He repeated that several times until the cat seemed awake enough to lap up the milk directly from the saucer. It gurgled the entire time, sounding as grumpy as its shaggy appearance portrayed.
Once it had drunk its fill, Aramis pulled the chair over to the fire and removed the heated water. He took another small towel and dunked it in, rubbed some soap into the soaked section, and then began to very lightly rub at the kitten's filthy coat. It was a long, painstaking process, but Aramis kept up the gentle touch, wiping away layer by layer of grime and then giving him a brisk rub to dry his fur. Of course, the poor animal looked even more haggard after he was done.
"You are a pitiful thing, aren't you?" he said aloud as he lifted the kitten to his eye level. It let out a plaintive cry. "But that's more like it," Aramis went on, pleased with the results of his tender ministrations.
He sat with the kitten bundled in his arms for the next hour, feeding it a bit more milk and making sure it stayed warm. Its wiry coat obviously couldn't offer much protection against the cold.
There was a knock on his door before his friends let themselves in. Aramis was going to have to set up some safeguards if he was going to keep the kitten. Which, wasn't really up for question; he wasn't going to just toss it back out into the street to die after he'd gone to such trouble to save it.
"If you were this bored, I could have found something else for you to do," Athos said dryly.
"Don't be like that," Aramis chided. "Or I'll have to name this ugly fellow after you."
Athos leveled a stern look at him while d'Artagnan choked on his attempt to suppress a laugh.
"You really going to keep that?" Porthos asked dubiously.
"Yes," Aramis declared and gave the kitten's head a little scratch. It mewled in protest, its puckered face doing quite a good impression of Athos doing an impression of a drowned rat. Aramis found it endearing.
And even God's lowliest creatures deserved kindness and compassion.
