Hi guys! Sorry for the delay! It's been a long year, I know, but I didn't forget this story! i'll try to keep up regular updates so far!
Thank you to whoever ist still here after all this time!
Thank you for all your support!
Happy reading!
Here we go, chapter 4 of FAMILY BEYOND BLOOD
Chapter 04
The kid's eyes widened in terror as the boss grabbed him by his doublet and pulled him on his feet, the gun ready to shoot him.
Aramis forced himself to speak calmly, even if the pain at his side was still pulsing due to the punch he received earlier.
"Your Majesty…" he said, pausing a second to catch his breath "Stay cal…"
A second punch to his side muted him as he suppressed the cry of pain that almost escaped from his lips.
It was bad enough Louis had to witness the violence, he didn't need to see him crying out in pain too.
"'Mis!" the kid cried as the men released him from their grasp and he doubled over himself, unable to stop from falling onto his knees, his hands pressed on the wound.
Louis tried to reach for him, but the boss firmly stopped him.
"How sweet," he teased "'Mis… that's how your son calls you, Musketeer?"
"I do not have a son," Aramis panted "But your mother always does when I fuck her…you should hear her… "
He got what he wanted.
The boss let Louis alone and focused his anger at him. His two men held Aramis by his arms, as a hail of hits landed on his whole body. He took every single hit, breathing through the pain, clenching his teeth to stay quiet. He didn't try to fight back or free himself.
He wanted them away from Louis and from Anne, if she was even there.
"'Mis! Stop! Stop it! Leave him alone! I am your King and I am ordering you to stop!"
There were both pleas and power in the Kid's voice, but he went ignored.
Anne curled up to herself in the small cell they had segregated her in. She was trembling from both fear and cold.
Unlike Aramis, who got himself so beaten they had to knock him unconscious to make him stop fighting, she had been awake the whole time, holding Louis tight at her chest.
He could be harsh with both her and Aramis, but deep down he was still his father's son, and very attached to Aramis.
Since things had calmed down after Louis XIII's death, the kid had closed off on himself. He was only five at the time, but when she explained to him what had happened, the kid had closed off on himself, refusing to connect with anyone else beside her.
He refused to appear in public, and he didn't want to meet honorable guests either. She wasn't worried about him not wanting to meet dignitaries and noblemen, she remembered she wasn't so willing either at his age. She was worried because he didn't play anymore, or ride his pony, or do any other activity he used to do when Louis was alive. She gave him some time; the King had been the only father he had known, and it was okay if he was grieving him. She started to worry when he had become more quiet than usual, almost refusing to speak.
Aramis, of course, had been the one who solved the situation.
That morning, Louis refused to let anyone into his room. The former Musketeer, being Aramis, just decided to step into the room. He let the door ajar, and she could see how he waited as the King yelled at him for his impudence, deliberately ignoring his King's orders of being left alone.
Five years earlier
Aramis found her basically pleading his son to let her into his room, without success.
He had locked himself into it and refused to see anyone.
After the peace had been established again, with her appointed as regent, things had been good for a while, but then D'Artagnan had managed to stop a murder attempt to the life of the King, perpetrated by the trusted servant who helped Louis dressing every single morning and that the King loved deeply.
Since then, things had degenerated: the kid had been so embittered that he didn't trust anyone. That morning, she had heard him scream in his sleep, probably from a nightmare, and that was the results.
"What's up?" he asked, seeing her concerned face and understanding something was really wrong, since he was able to read her like an open book. He always had.
Anne looked around, and once sure no one was around, she looked for shelter into his arms.
"He locked himself in."
Aramis hold her for a second, then kissed her hair and knocked at the door.
"Go away!" the King's little voice was extraordinarily loud and clear.
"Your Majesty," Aramis tried with a calm tone "Your duties are waiting for your presence"
"Do it by yourselves!"
"Okay," Aramis muttered, then looked at her and whispered: "I'll be right back", before running away.
After a few minutes, he was back with strange tools into his hands.
"If I get hanged for this, just know I love you." He smirked at her while using them to unlock the door.
She couldn't hold back the smile on her lips. He always managed to make her smile no matter how bad the situation was. Still, she marvelled that he could break open a door so easily.
"Did Treville teach you that?"
"Porthos," he answered, refusing to give her more explanation. She had always wondered what the story behind the dark-skinned Musketeer was, but never asked, not even to him.
"Useful," was her only comment as he opened the door, signaling her to stay where she was, with his 'I got this' look.
She nodded and stayed behind as he set the door ajar, so she could hear and see what was happening.
Aramis was welcomed by a dressing down that would probably make Treville proud, and Anne could see by his face that the former Musketeer was probably thinking the same.
When the King ordered him to go, Aramis made a step forward to the bed and sat down on the floor, cross-legged, and started talking.
Anne listened to every single word with tears in her eyes as he talked about how much he had missed his mother when he was forced to leave her to go living with his father.
"Weren't you happy to stay with your papa?" the kid asked. He had calmed down as Aramis spoke, probably out of curiosity.
"I didn't know him, Louis. He was a stranger to me," he explained before going on into his story, explaining how his father didn't show much love for him, preferring he learnt how to fight so that he could become a soldier.
"You are a good one," the kid stated.
Anne smiled, because the tone he used was matter-of-fact, so similar to Aramis'.
"Thanks to my real father."
"But you just said…" now the kid was completely absorbed by what Aramis was saying to him.
"Treville found me when I was barely 15. I escaped to go and visit my mother, only to find out she got ill and died… I was angry with myself because the day he let me go, I refused to say goodbye. I was… so furious with her because I thought she was sending me away because she didn't love me… and now it was...too late"
His voice was slightly trembling with emotion. Anne found herself as focused on his words as the King was. Aramis spoke so rarely about his past.
He paused for a moment, collecting himself before going on.
"Treville found me outside the village. A bunch of kids were saying bad things about her, and I just attacked them. They were more than me and I was probably going to be killed if it hadn't been for him. He stopped them and helped me up. A month later, in which I lived on the streets, he passed by a second time. He found me on my mother's grave, passed out from cold.
"He decided to take me with him back in Paris. During the street, I developed a fever, and for a few days I was out of myself for good. He treated me.
"He told me that, because I really don't remember anything of that journey. The first thing I remember is waking up into his room at the garrison. He was not there, busy planning the last few details remaining for the foundation of the Musketeers. I was too weak to move, so I just stayed in that bed until he came back. I was surprised when I saw him, and at first I refused his help".
"Did he insist?"
"On the contrary. He opened the door. He left it open night and day, even if it was winter. He told me I was free to go if I didn't want his help".
"Did you stay?"
"Nope. I went"
Anne didn't see that coming, but somehow everything just fit into their characters. In all the years she had known him, Treville had never begged anyone. He had always been honest and straight. It was one of the things she most appreciated of him.
"And then what?"
Aramis narrated how he got arrested by the Red Guards for having assaulted them to defend a woman they were bullying and how Treville helped him out making him swear he would become a Musketeer in front of the King.
Suddenly, Anne remembered that day and smiled at the memory. She had never made the connection before. Surely, Treville found quite a boy for his regiment.
"Aramis," the kid asked as Aramis paused again, fighting the lump in his throat a the memory of his mentor, "Why are you telling me this?"
"Because I know you miss your father, Louis" Aramis answered "The day you lost your father, I lost mine too…and I miss him so much. I miss him so much sometimes I feel lost without him. It's like…"
"It's like there would never be someone else you will trust like him," the kid finished and Anne suddenly realized how close the two Louises had been. She had always focused on Aramis, and hadn't understood until now that the two had developed a real father-son relationship.
"Exactly" Aramis answered with a sweet smile, "But you know what? He can still guide you"
"He is dead".
"Yes," he nodded "but he is still with you." He got up only to sit next to him, gently laying his hand on the King's chest, over his heart. "He's here, and if you think about him, and ask yourself what would he do, you will find an answer".
"Do you do that? Is it real?" Anne was glad to see the shadow of a smile on her son's face.
"I do it every time I have to do my job. I didn't have much time to learn how to do it, and I always ask Treville."
"Does it work? Every time?"
"Yeah. It works. Most of the time. And, when it doesn't, I just try to do my best to make him proud."
"What if I make mistake?"
"There are two kinds of mistakes," Aramis answered, and Anne could almost physically see Treville behind him. "The ones you make because you don't want to focus on things, and the one you make trying to do your best. If you always try to be the man he'd wanted you to be, he will always be proud, and he will personally tell you that when you'll reach him at the end of your life."
"What if I can't make a decision?"
Anne almost laughed. He was so similar to both Aramis and Louis! In that moment, Aramis' head turned toward her, and she stepped in.
"As a King, you will always be surrounded by people who might want to hurt you." She sat beside her son on the bed, on the opposite side to the Prime Minister. She gently put her arm protectively around him. "The most important thing is that you must always remember who you can trust. Me, Aramis, Madame and Monsieur D'Artagnan, we will always be there for you, my son."
The kid leaned into her chest for the first time in weeks, and she couldn't help to smile at her lover. The kid stayed quiet for a while, hidden into his mother's embrace, then he looked at Aramis.
"Monsieur Treville was very proud of you. He always said great things about you."
And for the first time since that night at the convent, she saw Aramis cry. And then she cried, as Louis acted by mere instinct and cradled into his lap to hug him.
The bittersweet memory faded as she heard Louis ordering their kidnappers to leave Aramis alone.
She pressed herself against the door of her cell, desperately trying to be able to hear something more, but nothing came more than muffled noises and the desperate orders of her son.
She wanted to cry as well, to attract their attention so they would come back to her, with their insults and accusations. At least, her boys would be safe.
They had already visited her twice, trying to push her to confess Louis was Aramis' son. They'd hit her and ripped her dress open, exposing her as the whore she was, as they keep repeating, until they left her shaken and full of fear.
They were Spanish, and had menaced her about hurting Louis and Aramis if she didn't confess she had betrayed first the France by sleeping with a Musketeer, and then Spain for supporting and reigning for the safe of a foreign country instead of helping Spain by means of an alliance with them.
She deserved to hang, they said, and Aramis and the kid along with them.
The more she thought about it, the more she understood.
She had always known she was in a very uncomfortable position. She was a Spanish Queen, who decided to stand by her husband's kingdom even after his death.
She had been the one who refused to sign the peace with her birth nation to keep France independent, and before that, her role in Rochefort's death didn't exactly ease the way Spain looked at her.
She steeled herself for the worse. No matter what, she would never confess her love for Aramis; she would never give up France.
After all Treville and his men had done for her and for their son, risking being hanged for having kept their secret, she would protect Aramis with her life, if necessary, but she swore Louis and Aramis would be able to go back to the Louvre.
"'Mis!"
The boss left their cell spent from all the punches he had landed on Aramis, who laid now curled on on his right side, his hand pressed to his left side and his eyes shut as he fought to catch his breath.
It wasn't the first time he'd got hit, still he felt pain everywhere. His ribs were probably bruised, if not cracked given the difficulty he had expanding his chest.
"'Mis!" Louis was right behind him and was now passing his small hand through his hair as he always did when he was sick and needed comfort.
Aramis forced himself to move his sore arm until he reached Louis' hand.
"I'...here, my King" he panted "I'm… fine".
Then everything went black.
"'Mis! Aramis! I order you to wake up!"
Louis acted out of pure people was the only way he knew to get a reaction when kindness didn't work. As Aramis went limp after having taken his hand, he felt as if anything could happen and he would have been not able to do anything to stop them.
They might easily kill him and no one was going to help him.
He needed Aramis to wake up, but ordering him wasn't working right now and he really needed him to open his eyes and tell him everything will be okay.
He didn't want him to be like his father and Monsieur Treville. He didn't want him to not wake up anymore and arrange a funeral for him.
He liked Aramis.
He was always honest with him, just like Treville used to say about him. When he couldn't tell him his opinion in public because of protocols (he was always very careful not to chide him in public), he usually did when they were alone. Louis appreciated that, and his mother always told him to learn from Aramis, because when he spoke, he mostly spoke out of experience from his days as a musketeer.
But it was not only that.
Aramis was kind of funny when he wanted to be, and used to spend a lot of time with him and his mum, just playing with him.
He was teaching him how to use a sword and to shoot a gun. Louis admired how accurate Aramis' aim was and he hoped one day he could be as good as he was. He was also very patient with him. They lost a whole week teaching him how to properly keep a musket and how to aim with it, and not once he had yelled at him. He was different from each one of his preceptors, and he really learnt something when Aramis explained.
Louis remembered that, after his father's death, Aramis was the one to teach him to trust a few people again.
He always stopped by right before his bedtime and used to tell him stories about his time as a Musketeer, or about Louis XIII's reign, or again about Treville until he fell asleep.
Sometimes, he liked to sit on Aramis' lap and listen to him.
When he got ill, he never left his side, and when no one else was in the room, he just laid in bed beside him, holding him tight and soothing his shivers and fears.
Louis felt safe with him, and his mother was always happier when he was with them, so, no, he didn't want Aramis to be dead.
"Aramis" he whispered, as tears began to fall from his eyes "Wake up, please. Please… don't be dead… I… please".
Then he remembered something Aramis had taught him a long time ago, when Monsieur D'Artagnan had passed out in front of them because of a fever he didn't treat properly because of his job.
He was so scared, but Aramis just knelt beside him and looked for something on the captain, then announced he had just passed out, but that he also needed treatment, and very quickly.
Aramis had disappeared for two days after that so that he could stay with his friend and make sure he would recover. When he came back, he had asked him how he could tell he was not dead, and the Prime Minister explained to him how to feel the pulse.
Now, with his hands shaking from fear, he slowly approached Aramis' neck and just focused, as he had taught him… and bursted into an open cry.
Thank you for reading!