D'Artagnan rode through the narrow streets, his horse's hooves clattering on the cobblestones.
Suddenly, several beggars caught sight of him. They where moving through the streets, breaking windows as they went and stealing any food they could find. As soon as they saw D'Artagnan, the rocks in their hands went flying at him instead of the windows.
D'Artagnan ducked gracefully and continued right on ridding. He was getting used to the hostility. He rode quickly into the courtyard of the monastery next to Notre Dame. He reigned in his horse and watched the priests as they gave out food to the beggars that where gathered in the courtyard. He felt the glares on the royal symbols on his uniform. But the people parted and let him through as he swung off his horse and went inside. He paused when he saw parked over to the side of the courtyard, a big rickety carriage.
He smiled. "Porthos!" His head came around when he heard drunken giggling far ahead of him.
There where four people that where moving slowly down the hallway that Celeste had come down not too long ago. Three of them where women dressed in tight, low cut, gaudy dresses and the fourth was Porthos, a former musketeer, who was now a nobleman of great wealth.
He stopped in front of Aramis's door. "Here we are! Aramis! Aramis, Porthos is here!"
Aramis opened his eyes and slowly his head came around.
Celeste was sitting at his desk, writing. Her head came up and her face was wreathed in smiles. She glanced at Aramis.
Aramis sighed. "I was trying to pray," he muttered.
Porthos kicked the door open and shoved the women inside.
Celeste stood to her feet as the women came spilling into the room. A strange look came over her face and her eyes shot to Aramis.
The three women stopped short at what they saw, instantly sobered.
Porthos barreled in. "ARAMIS! Porthos…" He too stopped.
Aramis has always been the most theological of the four musketeers. And he was still ruthlessly brilliant. He was still lean and his body powerful and very handsome. But right then, he was kneeling at his own private altar.
Celeste pressed her fingers to her lips to keep from laughing.
Porthos shrugged. "Sorry, my dears."
The women giggled nervously as they began slowly backing away.
"Go on now," said Porthos. "Leave his holiness alone."
"Porthos!" Celeste could contain herself no longer.
Porthos turned. "Celeste!" he roared. "Come to me!"
Celeste ran across the room and threw herself into Porthos's arms.
Aramis, who still had his back to them, opened his eyes.
Porthos swung her into the air and planted a kiss on her cheek. "My dear, you are the most beautiful woman in the world!" He drug her across the room and heaved himself into a seat next to the praying Aramis. He tugged Celeste into her lap.
Celeste's hair, which she had kept back into a braid while she had her uniform on, had tumbled loose and hung around her like a glorious halo.
"Please revel with me, Aramis. I need my spirits lifted. I'm old, I'm weak and my strength is almost gone and…"
"You have Celeste in your lap," growled Aramis. "Does that not lift your sprits enough?"
Porthos looked at Celeste.
She slid her arms around his neck. "I do love you so, Porthos."
"Oh my dear." Porthos smacked a kiss right on her lips loudly. "I love you too. You are the one woman in all the world that I would marry."
"Be quiet, you fat fool," said Aramis. "Can't you see I'm praying?"
"Just because you say that, does not mean I would marry you, dear Porthos. You are good for a kiss though," said Celeste, her eyes dancing.
Porthos turned to him. "I just said you're praying! Are you deaf too? I know you're blind because if you had seen the women that just walked out of here, you'd have tears in your eyes."
D'Artagnan stood outside the half closed door and smiled. He just stood there and listened to his old friends.
Aramis sighed as he tried to ignore him. "There are more important things in life than women. And…" He opened one eye and looked at Porthos and Celeste. "I was in the company of Celeste."
Porthos looked at Celeste.
She winked at him. "I do get around," said Celeste.
D'Artagnan grinned.
Porthos looked at Aramis. "Really? If you can name me one thing, one single thing, that is more sublime than a woman, I will buy you a new cathedral."
Both Aramis's eyes popped open as he rose to the bait. "Forgiveness."
"Forgiveness?" Porthos sighed. "Aramis, my friend, you need to put a little spice in your life."
Aramis's eyebrows rose.
"You are getting older than I."
"Old?" Aramis reached out and grabbed Celeste from Porthos's lap. He pulled her down in front of him and sealed his lips to hers roughly.
Celeste almost gasped in fright but instead her arms slipped around his neck.
Porthos stared.
D'Artagnan peeked around the door and his eyes widened.
Aramis held her close and kissed her deeply. Then he let her go and looked at Porthos. "There! I have spice! And forgiveness!" He looked up at the crucifix and crossed himself.
Porthos stared at him and then looked at Celeste.
She was staring at Aramis with a strange look of happiness in her eyes. She touched her slightly bruised lips gently with her fingers.
"Forgiveness?" repeated Porthos. Suddenly, he let out a loud fart.
D'Artagnan actually stepped back from the door.
There was a spilt second of silence.
"Forgive me," muttered Porthos.
Celeste looked at Aramis.
His fingers where clamped on his rosary beads as he tried to keep praying.
"Am I forgiven?" asked Porthos.
Celeste burst out laughing. Her eyes where brimming with merriment.
Aramis's eyes popped open. He grabbed Celeste and swung her out of the way. He backhanded Porthos hard.
Porthos shook his head to clear it. "I observe your forgiveness isn't sweeter than a woman!"
Aramis stood to his feet, lifting Celeste as well. "Can't you see I'm trying to pray, damn it!"
Porthos raised his foot and planted his foot right in Aramis's groin.
Celeste, still laughing, backed away.
Aramis staggered backwards, his face red as he grunted in pain. He grabbed a chair and threw it.
Porthos ducked and picked up the whole table.
D'Artagnan opened the door.
Celeste looked at him. She knew the moment she saw him that he had seen Aramis kiss her.
D'Artagnan winked at her.
She blushed.
Both Porthos and Aramis looked up and said in unison, "D'Artagnan!"
Porthos tossed the table aside easily and grabbed D'Artagnan in a mighty hug. "How are you, D'Artagnan!"
Aramis picked up the chair he had thrown, red with embarrassment.
"So what was happening just now?" asked D'Artagnan.
"A simple theological discussion," said Aramis.
Celeste let a small laugh escape but quieted as soon as Aramis glared at her. But her eyes still danced with laughter.
"Aramis-the King wishes to see you," said D'Artagnan.
Aramis's eyebrows rose. "Still you serve him loyally-though people hurl rotten eggs at his royal emblem." He lifted D'Artagnan's cloak. A piece of egg slid to the ground.
D'Artagnan smiled slightly at him and took his cloak from his hands and let it fall to the floor. "I see your mind is sharp as ever. The king said, 'Right away.'" He looked at Celeste, his eyes twinkling. "Perhaps you should go with him, Celeste." He left the room.
Aramis looked at her. "Yes. Why don't you come with me? We can stop by your apartment so you can change."
"Are we still on for tonight, Celeste?" asked Porthos.
"I wouldn't miss it for the world."
Porthos looked at Aramis. "We are going to the Inn tonight. Come with us, Aramis. And have a good time."
"I have even promised to try and get drunk," said Celeste dryly.
"I have never met a woman who can hold liquor like Celeste," said Porthos. "Never. She holds her liquor even better than Athos."
"He taught me how," said Celeste.
Aramis looked at her. "To see you drunk? I'll be there."
"Oh," said Porthos as he turned to leave. "I forget. For the poor, the ones you were praying for." He handed a purse to Aramis.
Surprised, Aramis reached for it.
But just as he took it, Porthos threw a punch at him. Aramis ducked and they circled each other again.
Suddenly, Porthos stopped. "I wonder how Athos is doing."