It was a heavily awkward party that entered the musketeers' abode. D'Artagnan brushed passed Planchet and marched straight to his room. "Odd." Planchet remarked as he dropped some chopped carrots into the soup he was cooking. About five minutes later, Felice glumly walked in. "For a lass who is about to be fitted with a new gown by the king's command, you do not appear too happy, miss." Planchet pointed out.
"Don't trouble yourself about it, Planchet." Felice hung her head. "How is Buttercup?"
"I do not know. I have been occupied with inside duties, miss." Planchet shrugged.
"That's alright. I will see to her." Felice assured him and went back out the way she had just come in.
"I do not understand. What is going on around here?" Planchet spoke to himself. The two young Gascons both acted as if they were frustrated. Just as Athos, Porthos, and Aramis shuffled into the room, D'Artagnan appeared at the bottom of the stairs.
"I'm going out. I need some air." He muttered and bounded out the door.
"Afraid supper will not be ready for nearly another hour, sirs." Planchet spoke up.
"No rush." Porthos shook his head wearily. "I need a drink." He sat down at the dining table and crossed his large legs on it.
"Something wrong, sirs?"
"Don't worry about it, Planchet. Just fix the evening meal, please." Aramis instructed him. He looked toward Athos. "Should we try to find out what happened?" Aramis asked. He was bothered seeing the loving siblings having this strain that was obviously hurting both of them. He was called to be a peacemaker.
"It's truly none of our affair. I hardly think it is the first squabble they've ever had." Athos suggested.
"Aye. But they look so unhappy." Aramis pointed out.
"Give them some time." Athos said.
How long he was outside the house, practicing his sword skills, D'Artagnan hadn't counted. He easily slew invisible foes, and parried off of Cardinal's guards who were there only in his mind. The adrenaline of a fight, and the challenge of survival instincts, and the rigorous moves required that often saved his life felt therapeutic to D'Artagnan. With the grim thoughts keeping him company, he felt physically boundless practicing with his sword, which he hoped would clear his head.
Felice peeked out from the stable through a crack in the wall, watching her brother. Oh, Charles. What did I say? What did I do wrong? I DO trust you, more than anyone else! Why else do you think I want us to live together in our own place? Buttercup grunted, and Felice stroked her face. "I miss home, old girl. How about you?" She asked. "Here, I bought this for you before I came back." She held a juicy red apple in the palm of her hand. Buttercup whinnied and nibbled greedily at it.
D'Artagnan thought on Rochefort and swung his sword with an even stronger fiery zeal. What if the culprit was lurking around at this very minute, spying on them? Let him come! D'Artagnan thought darkly. This rift is his fault in the first place. Oh, let him just try and slaughter me again in the daylight hours, on a public street! D'Artagnan cringed, and wildly wielded his sword in a deadly twirl-CLANG!
D'Artagnan gaped in surprise. He should've known. Athos stood there calmly, seemingly unphased by the near blow that almost slashed his chest open had he not blocked it. "Aiming for another scuffle with some black and red coats already? Stubbornness truly does run in your veins." Athos stated with a dry state of amusement.
"I prefer to be prepared for any potential perils." D'Artagnan panted.
"Here." Athos handed him the flask of whiskey. The boy took it and swallowed hard.
"Thanks." He mumbled.
"You appear vexed." Athos said. D'Artagnan glared at him then puffed in defeat.
"So, you saw, did you?"
"I saw more than enough. I hope you do not intend to let this drag out."
"I didn't mean to hurt her." D'Artagnan said earnestly.
"No. What passed between you two then?"
"But she needs to straighten up. She just...she can't view every strange man she meets as villains and scumbags, like Rochefort's men!" D'Artagnan shook his head.
"Once you've been burned, you fear the fire." Athos said. I oughtta know!
"I know, I know. But you're not like them! You're decent fellows, and while I admit you have your questionable sides, if I found myself in an inescapable corner, you are the ones I would prefer covering my back."
"That's not what is troubling you, lad. There is a much different reason you became cross with your sister." Athos spoke knowingly, letting his deep blue eyes bear into the boy's own. D'Artagnan faced him dejectedly, then sighed heavily. How he wished his father was here to listen to his woes then set him on the best course of action! His father always knew the right words to say for life's lessons. But, here D'Artagnan was, on his own, far from his father's loving counsel. Athos would have to do.
D'Artagnan inhaled deeply. "I don't believe she trusts me, Athos!" He looked up sadly at the older musketeer. "I feel she blames me for what happened. I have already told her that I blame myself, all the time. I'm her brother, for goodness's sake! She doesn't trust my decisions on what is best for us, even though the only reason I make them is to keep her safe! Why doesn't she understand that?
'My dear Athos, sisters can be most exasperating! No offense, but Felice does not trust any of you, as I was beginning to expect. I felt she was coming out of her armor of suspicion, but I was wrong. She looks on you with disdain. And if she feels that way about you, heroes but strangers, then...she...must really despise and mistrust me all the more!' " D'Artagnan finished, his voice quivering with distress. He looked to Athos like a lost puppy. "I...I don't know what to do."
"You're young, lad." Athos said miserably, pinching his shoulder. "People build up walls for their own personal reasons. Sometimes it's best to go through the door and find out why, instead of always darting head first to break the wall down."
"Speaking from experience?" D'Artagnan asked curiously.
"Never mind that." Athos said gruffly. "Best to clear the air as soon as possible, or else you will both mope around miserably and I am not one to have the patience for foolish bullheadedness.
'Just remember this, D'Artagnan: in life, you will find that there are some battles you cannot win just by simply brandishing a musketeer's sword.' "
Felice was debating inside her head what to say to her brother, to make him understand but also to assure him that it was not as he believed. Yet, no words seemed proper enough. She was brushing her horse's coat. Buttercup nudged at her elbow. "I am being gentle." Felice corrected her.
"How long do you intend to give the creature your undivided attention?" A quiet voice addressed her. Felice looked up and saw Aramis standing there near his own horse's corral, then quickly looked away as she continued to brush Buttercup's coat.
"For as long as it takes," Felice responded grimly.
"And how long do you intend for that to be?"
"Until I'm finished." Felice shrugged. Aramis snickered, stepping closer.
"Did you and D'Artagnan have a fight?" He asked. Felice sighed.
"I'd rather not talk about it." She said lowly.
"I'm a good listener. You can ask anybody. Actually, it's my job to listen." Aramis smiled, patting the cross on his chest. Felice barely glanced at it.
"It was just a misunderstanding. That's all." She said quickly, brushing harder. "I will talk to him. Just, not yet."
"Nothing too serious, I should hope." Aramis prodded cautiously.
"Just...we didn't communicate properly." Felice set her jaw, so she wouldn't cry.
"Surely it wasn't in dispute over the interview you're to have with de Treville?"
"Oh, no! Nothing like that. It's just...something else."
"I know that it really is none of my business," Aramis said, walking even closer, making Felice go rigid, "but it is only that I do not enjoy seeing others needlessly at odds with one another if there is something that can be done about it. If it can possibly be mended."
"Listen, Master Aramis, I appreciate your concern. But we will work it out. We always have." Felice stated.
"I am relieved to hear that." Aramis approved, and he began stroking Buttercup who snorted happily at the touch.
Felice was just relieved that there was an entire body of horse flesh between the two of them. His soft voice and soothing manner was so comforting. Or...that's what it was supposed to be. But it was only them here in the stable. The only witnesses around were the horses, whose testimonies wouldn't hold much in court. Was the kindly priest truly trying to just be a good friend? She hoped so! Or was he preparing to corner her and then have his way with her when she appeared vulnerable to his advantage? She'd heard stories of those kind of vulgar occurrences. She didn't want to be one of them! And if he did have dark ill intentions, this would be the perfect time and place to put it into execution, out in the stable, alone, without D'Artagnan around to come to the rescue!
Felice tried to gather up her courage and not think about the loud pounding of her heart that was filling her own ears."What exactly did you come in here for, Master Aramis?" She asked slowly, forcing herself to look him in the eyes, only momentarily.
"I only wished to see if you were alright, miss. And if there was anything I could do to iron out the rough edges between you and your brother." Aramis replied innocently. "The two of you look rather depressed."
"Oh." Felice breathed, her shoulders shaking with relief. Aramis furrowed his dark brows.
Wait a moment. Does she think-He brusquely stepped around Buttercup's head so that he was standing directly in front of Felice. She looked up at him, wide-eyed, and took a tremulous step-almost leap back. He looked displeased and astonished. "Felice, what did you think that I came in here for?" He asked incredulously, his countenance wrought with what she believed to be disdain.
"I, I wasn't sure, sir." Felice gulped. Now he's angry with me too! Like Charles. Lord, what will he do? She tightly clutched the horse brush in her hand, in case she needed to throw it at him. She also glanced around the corral, searching for the quickest way of escape.
"Did you think that I was going tohurtyou?" Aramis stared at her with such disappointment in his face that it made her stomach clench.
I hurt him, she realized with horror. Now what would happen? Her heart pounded fiercely. "You, you wouldn't do that." She sputtered, trying to put on a feeble smile. But she wasn't fooling the stately, sharp-eyed priest. He could see the uncertainty in her eyes.
"Oh, my g-!" Aramis cried, sounding mortified. "My dear child, it is as I have told you before, we wouldn't harm you! You must believe that."
"I am sorry." Felice swallowed, feeling ashamed, foolish, and petrified.
Aramis stepped closer and she took another step backward. "I know Rochefort's men did you a great wrong, love. And you may always fear them." Aramis said softly, as if he were trying to calm a frightened little animal. He reached out to pat her arm but she stiffened. He decided that hadn't been the wisest move and brought his hand back to the cross on his chest. "But while I may use unorthodox methods now in the name of this, I have not forsaken it entirely.
You have my word, as a man of God, with Him as my witness, I am not in any way trying to take advantage of you, or use you for my own pleasure.
'I am trying to help you!'"
Felice blushed a deep red and this time the tears did come. She quickly brushed at them. "Oh, Lord, what have I done?" She fought to control her visibly emotional urge. Aramis tapped her wrist, holding out his handkerchief. She shook her head and grabbed her own and tried to dry her eyes.
"It's alright, dear. Calm yourself." He murmured patiently.
"Please forgive me, Master Aramis!" She begged. "I was not trying to cause you offense."
"Just breathe."
"I am not brave, like my brother. He's the courageous one. If it was not for him, I would be running from my problems rather than facing them."
"Not brave? After what those Cardinal's dogs put you through, I find it very brave that you agreed to stay under our roof, even though you do not trust us."
"Please believe me, it's not that I don't want to!" Felice blurted out. "It's just so bloody difficult. After all, we have just met only yesterday! I am trying to, Master Aramis. Really I am. I do not enjoy looking on you and your compatriots with suspicion."
"Then let me help you, child!" Aramis persisted kindly.
"Can you?"
"Well, I cannot perform miracles if that's what you are asking!" Aramis admitted with a chuckle. "But even if I cannot, I know of Someone else who can." Felice nodded.
"You are right, about that."
"I do not wish to harm you, any more than your brother does. He wants what is best for you, dear."
"I know that. I do. And I hurt him, but it was never intentional!"
"Of course not. Felice, do you trust me?" Aramis asked slowly.
"I...I…" Felice's heart raced. Oh, why does he have to make it all so hard? I was starting to feel my fear slip away. Now I don't know what to do! What do I say? I don't want to say the wrong thing! If I say no, he'll be disappointed...in himself. But if I say yes, I would be lying to myself. W-wouldn't I?DoI trust him?Can I trust him?
Aramis waited patiently, wrestling with his own thoughts. I am rushing things. She needs more time! Why did I have to say that? Oh, poor child. She is too afraid to even answer! What a dolt you are, Aramis! He silently scolded himself.
"I, I would like to, Master Aramis." Felice finally answered, rubbing her hand against Buttercup's flank, the warmth and familiar texture slightly soothing her.
"Then try, darling." Aramis said encouragingly.
Felice swallowed, still holding the horse brush to herself. He won't hurt me, she thought. She lowered her hands, but still held the item. "You...I…"
"Yes?"
"I give my word, I will speak with D'Artagnan. I do not intend for this to linger." Hurts too much.
"Good. Do not forget that you both have a meeting with Captain de Treville after dinner."
"Oh, yes. I have forgotten that." Felice muttered.
"Well, do not tarry too long." Aramis sighed. "Don't fret over thinking you offended me. It is alright. If you choose to come out of your shell, you will do so when the time is right, when you are ready."
Felice couldn't breathe. Had he really just said that? She hadn't been expecting it! But it felt as if an enormous weight had been lifted from her chest. He understood. He knew she was struggling, and he would not push her to force herself into trusting them!
"Thank you." She smiled weakly.