Thank you…

Mercury Gray… I will have Aramis send King Louis right over.

Evenstar Elanor… I got a "bravissima?" How exciting! And you said I don't give you nice guys to like in my stories.

Utsuri… I would think that the King could get as messy as he wanted. I wouldn't want to be the one to tell him he can't, even a nice King like Louis.

Angoliel… Glad you like Louis. I was hoping that you'd all like the King. One of these days, you'll have those several guys. Don't give up!

Sweet A.K… Trust me, Natalie would NEVER forget Aramis!

Chapter 17: Stormy Weather

Aramis' trip to Spain had been a near disaster. His horse had thrown a shoe and he'd been sidetracked finding a blacksmith to set a new one, and once he'd arrived at the little hamlet specified by the King, he almost missed the informant. Because of the delay with the horse, the informant assumed Aramis was not coming. Finally, after a few days, everything was sorted out and Aramis possessed the information he needed. He packed his saddle bags and got ready to leave. Then the rain came.

It came in torrents, rain the likes of which he doubted man had seen since the days of Noah. He had barely made it a mile out of town before he realized how dangerous the weather had turned. He made his way back to the inn.

Now, two days later, Aramis stared out the window at the torrential rain. It had been like this for two straight days. The roads, especially the ones in the mountains, were unsafe, and as eager as he was to return to France, he was not eager to die in a mud slide. The realization that he was making a smart and sensible decision did nothing to improve his temper.

The inn where Aramis found lodging was small and plain but it was clean. He sipped at the thin vegetable soup a serving maid brought to him. He stirred liquid in his bowl and longed for the rich onion soup that the King's kitchen prepared. The girl brought him a chunk of warm bread and at least that filled his stomach somewhat. The howling wind buffeted the windows and Aramis' mood soured more. He finished his soup and headed up to his room. Stretched out on the bed, Aramis put his hands behind his head and listened to the rain.

"Natalie…" he whispered. He closed his eyes and his memory filled with that last moment in the hallway, running the rose along Natalie's cheek. And then his words came back to him… Until I return. He rubbed his face with his hands. Now she will see me for what I am. A liar. I told her I would be gone for three weeks. Here it is almost three weeks now and my feet are not yet back on French soil.

He threw the sheet back and walked to the window, watching the pounding rain as it raced down the glass. Sinking to his knees, Aramis pulled out the cross he wore around his neck on a leather cord. It had a strange dent in it from where it had been struck by a bullet once. Had it not been for that simple metal cross, Aramis would have died many years ago. He kissed it and then crossed himself, attempting to seek solace through prayer.

I must truly have sinned in Your eyes, Father. All those years ago, when You spared me from that pistol's bite, I thought You must have saved me for some higher purpose. But over the years, I have had to do many things in the name of France, and in the name of God. Many terrible things. I cannot help but wonder if You have allowed me to linger so long on this earth to begin my punishment now.

I took Philippe away from his mother when he was but hours old. I was the one who locked him into that wretched iron mask and brought him to the prison where he languished for six years. I thought that by bringing him to the throne, I would redeem those sins. I do not regret putting his brother into the mask… he should have loved his people, yet he starved and murdered them. My great hope there is that his suffering within the mask will help him understand, help him unburden his soul. He is righteously punished for his crimes against man, and hopefully he will cleanse his soul in Your eyes and finally be forgiven.

But what of my other sins, Father? How can I find forgiveness? I told Porthos once that forgiveness was the sweetest thing a man could have, sweeter – indeed – than any woman's ample charms. How do I forgive myself, Father? For if I cannot forgive myself, how can I ask You to forgive me? Show me how I may be forgiven, please.

Unbidden, a vision of Natalie rose up in his mind. She sat on a bench, book in hand, and she looked up towards Aramis and smiled. It was an open smile and all of her feelings could be read upon it. Aramis felt his heart constrict.

Is she to be my punishment then, my Lord God? The possibility of true love, being loved for who I am, not who I ought to be, always dangled in front of me as a temptation and a reminder? Do I languish here, in Spain, while she thinks I have truly abandoned her? Will I return only to see her loved by another, when in my heart I know she is the only mortal soul I shall truly ever love? To endure the shame of a sundered friendship with a man I hold as dear to me as a brother? If that is what you wish, Father, I will endure it. Tears began to roll down Aramis' cheeks. Just tell me, I beg of you, tell me this is truly the path you wish me to take and I will do Your will. I will suffer what You send to me.

He waited, in the dark of the night, for the comforting warm clarity that often came to him after he prayed. It had eluded him all those months ago at Athos' country estate, and it eluded him now. Aramis returned to his bed, his heart sorrowful. So wracked was his soul by guilt and pain that he dared not pray for happiness, only for forgiveness… only for a sign for how to atone, not for a sign to show him how to live.

In his distraction, he did not notice that the wind had lessened, the rain had stopped, and the moon was beginning to drive the clouds away.

Back at Versailles, Luc was hovering over a maid, whispering in her ear. In an hour, he was supposed to escort Natalie to a small fete, but until then, his time was his own. Suddenly, he heard voices – familiar voices – coming towards him. Not wanting to be discovered, Luc turned away from the girl and pressed his back against the wall. Grateful for the interruption, the maid scurried down the hall the opposite way. Luc paid her no attention. Hidden by the potted bush and the alcove, Natalie and Christine walked past without seeing Luc.

"I'm worried," said Natalie. "It has been three weeks. He should be back by now."

Who should be back, wondered Luc.

"I'm sure he's fine; Aramis is, after all, a Musketeer," reassured Christine.

Natalie sighed. "I know, but it is a long trip to Spain and he should have been back by now. I wake in the morning, wondering if he has returned, and when I find he has not, my heart sinks in my chest and some of the joy leaves this world… I just want to look upon his face, Christine. To see him smile at me again…"

They passed beyond the range of Luc's hearing. So, my intended harbors feelings for Aramis? That old man? I think I know now why Athos is so eager to marry his daughter to someone. He wants to keep her away from Aramis! And soon, very soon, I shall be the answer to all his worries.

Luc started to laugh.

I promised Aramis would appear again soon. Hope you enjoyed. Looking forward to hearing what you think!

Disclaimer: The only things I can truly claim as my own are Natalie and Luc (and a few minor supporting characters). Everything else is borrowed with much respect and admiration for Dumas and the people who created various movie versions of the Musketeers.