Alright guys, here's the next chapter. I'm hoping that none of you have grown bored of the story yet and will continue to share it around, as I'd really like to hear what you guys think. I'm slowly working up to the big reveal of where Katherine comes from and what happened that brought her into the lives of Aramis and the others. And I'm hoping that nobody is incredibly upset with what I did in the last chapter, because the ending of the movie always bugged me a bit when it came to D'Artagnan. Between the character and the actor, I'm a huge fan, and while I agree that it was done well as a final outcome for him, it always hurt me to watch that scene during the movie because you had to accept the end. So, I changed it. Fanfiction is wonderful that way, huh?

Chapter VI

"Athos, Porthos and Aramis!"

The heavily decorated doors of the audience chamber were pulled aside to reveal the three men in their newly cleaned uniforms, looking every inch to be the musketeers they had once been. Together they moved forward into the room, walking proudly along the carpet until they reached the end of it and knelt a little unsteadily before the throne. All of them held their hats in their hands, pressed firmly against their hearts as they bowed their heads in reverence to their sovereign who waited until the door was firmly shut behind them before he made to move toward them.

"Please, do not wish to see you on your knees," Philippe said quickly as he held out his hands to help first Athos, then Aramis and Porthos back to their feet. "I owe the three of you my life as a man before I do as a King."

None of them immediately spoke, but turned their bodies slightly and bowed to the other powerful presence in the room, the older woman who had sat beside her son on a slightly lower chair. "My lady," they chanted together.

Queen Anne was still a rather strikingly beautiful woman, though the lines of her age were beginning to appear on her face as well. She looked much like she had the previous night at the masquerade that Louis had hosted to lift his spirits, with her dark locks hanging down around her shoulders and an elaborate gown gracing her figure. Of course, it wasn't as vibrant in colour as it had been before, but a rather simple design of blue and black that really brought out the depths of her eyes as she smiled down at all three men.

"You are most welcome here," she said in her heavy accent. "For saving my son and bringing peace to our kingdom."

The three of them kept their heads bowed to her for a moment before Aramis stepped forward, his eyes still downcast. In a slightly more graceful movement than before he was down on his knee before her. "I once did something terrible by taking the second of your twin sons from you, allowing you to believe that he had not survived his infancy." Anne looked over at Philippe with a look that told all about those horrible years they had been separated, having learned the truth only when he was sixteen and to be imprisoned in the Bastille by his brother so that he could never attempt to take the throne away from him. "And now I come to beg for your forgiveness. I have done my best within those years to cleanse my soul in all of the ways that I know how, but I know that nothing will save me from my sin now except perhaps your pardon."

He had asked for her forgiveness once before, when she had gone to confession and he had managed to take the place of her usual priest. But in that moment, he had merely attempted to tell her what was being done without directly putting her life in danger, and had so asked for her forgiveness without really having received it. Now it was his turn to beg quietly for her pardon, for a soft word that would tell him that he was indeed lifted of his sin in the eyes of his Queen. And the response he sought came in a slightly un-customary fashion as Anne glanced toward her son and slowly lowered herself a little to touch Aramis' shoulder, beckoning for him to rise.

"You have that, and so much more," Anne told him gently, offering him a smile when he had fully risen to his feet once again. "But I see that there are only three of you present. I thought there was another who aided in your rescue," she said, looking back toward Philippe with a look of curiosity.

Athos was quick to step forward. "If your Majesties will permit, she is here, just outside that door." He gestured off to the side, to a door that was not commonly used by people who appeared before their King for an audience. It was a place that saw far less use.

But it seemed that that was not the most interesting fact to Queen Anne, who turned to look at them all in turn. "She?"

"Yes, my lady, my daughter," Aramis said as he shifted his weight between his feet a little. "Twenty years ago a child was found on the steps of the monastery where I was expecting to live when I retired from the musketeers. I cannot explain why I did not have her sent away to live in an orphanage, but I adopted the girl and she has been a part of our lives ever since then."

Still Anne looked a little confused, digesting that it was in fact a woman who had accompanied the four men to the Bastille that night to save her son from wrongful imprisonment. "And you allowed her to head into such a dangerous place?"

This time it was Porthos who took a small step forward, attempting to spare any kind of shame that Aramis might feel as he reflected on the circumstances of the rescue. "The girl grew up around us, milady, and I'm afraid that she has since picked up several of our personal qualities because of that. She was the one who lead the musketeers away from the monastery...and she would not be left behind."

So, she was not actually a child of his creation, Anne thought to herself as she looked down at Aramis with a small smile. And yet he seemed to regard this child as being one of the most important things in his life, to which she could relate. Despite his misgivings, the Queen still loved Louis dearly because of the fact that she had delivered him into this world, and had been willing to overlook many of his negative points as she had felt it was her job as a mother to do. Now that she finally had Philippe back in her life, Anne was slowly beginning to feel pride for the very first time, which was something she wished she could have shared.

"I would very much like to meet this young woman." A simple look over at Philippe was all that was needed before he was clapping his hands to have the doors opened once again, an order that his servants were quick to obey. But as they parted to reveal who stood on the other side, both Anne and Philippe gasped in shock.

Standing as straight as her body would allow with the extra weight on her shoulder, Katherine stepped forward slowly and guided D'Artagnan with her through the doors and into the large audience chamber. One of his strong arms was thrown over her shoulder as he moved with obvious pain, her other hand resting firmly against his chest in order to keep him upright. For her part, Katherine was so focused on helping him approach the throne that she didn't dare lift her eyes from his face, shifting her body only slightly as each light tread of her foot carried them further and further into the room. His face was still a ghostly white, his teeth grit against the pain that ran rampant through his body with each movement. Only when she heard a soft sob from up ahead did she dare to turn her head for a brief moment and then lower her eyes just as quickly in the presence of the King and his mother.

"Your Majesties," she murmured, giving a small bob so that D'Artagnan did not have to move any more than necessary.

"Why is he here? He can barely stand!" came Anne's horrified voice as she clenched Philippe's arm tightly.

"Do not be upset with her, my lady," D'Artganan said lightly in his gruff voice, trying to adjust his stance a little against Katherine's body. "Her concern for my life would have kept her from coming at the King's command, and I could not allow that to happen."

Aramis stepped toward them, offering his own support to his weakened friend before he addressed his monarch. "Your Majesties," he began. "May I present my daughter, Katherine."

Again she offered them a bob of a curtsey, keeping her eyes downcast out of respect to help make up for the fact that she could not make proper deference to Philippe and Anne. But before anyone else could speak, Katherine made her voice heard. "If it please Your Majesty, my Uncle is still incredibly weak and cannot be on his feet for too long."

She could feel D'Artagnan's eyes on her, clearly displeased at the idea of his body showing weakness to both his son and his lover, but he dared not rebuke her in front of them. That would surely come later when they were alone again, since she had refused to let him stay in a room without allowing her to attend to him. He was not pleased to know that his niece would have ignored an order from her King...but nor had he had a chance to properly speak to Katherine since the moment that he had awoken back in the infirmary. He knew there was something going on in her head that had distanced her from him emotionally for whatever reason. He just didn't know what the cause was.

Royal decorum seemed to prevent Anne from running toward him the way she had in the past during their stolen moments together, but her eyes betrayed every possible emotion that she could have upon seeing her lover alive. "This way, please," Philippe said hurriedly, offering his mother a hand with which to guide her into the tiny room that had been prepared for their arrival. Already Katherine could feel him growing unsteady on his feet and was grateful for the hand that Aramis had leant in order to move D'Artagnan into the next room. Six tall wooden chairs sat around a small table, the chair for the King evident by its elaborate decoration and plush seating, while the others were cushioned a little more simply. She did not wait to be instructed, but knew enough of courtly procedures to help settle D'Artagnan slowly into the chair that sat on the left side of the King, trying to make the transition as easy as possible as her hands firmly grasped his forearm and lowered him into it. A sigh of relief sounded from his lips as he began to relax a little, still white against the pain of the wound that would need to be examined again in a short while. Athos, Porthos and Aramis all moved around the table and stood before their chairs, waiting patiently as Philippe helped his mother into the chair to the right of his own. Only then did he turn back to Katherine, who had since taken a place of kneeling on the floor beside her Uncle with one of his hands held tightly in her own.

"Please," he said gently to her as he gestured to his chair. "Sit here."

But Katherine quickly shook her head, daring to allow her eyes to rise a little to meet those of her King. "I thank you, Your Majesty, but pray not concern yourself with me," she asked, resting back on her heels. "I am content to remain where I am most needed." Despite her short sentence, her words seemed to have an impact on the room. It had not really been an order, but a kind offer that Philippe had spoken to her, which she had refused by insisting that she was happier to settle herself on the floor beneath the rest of them. Aramis looked at his daughter with a raised brow, wondering what it was that had prompted such words, and so Katherine continued. "I mean no disrespect," she continued slowly. "But I am a simple girl. I have no place in a palace such a this...and I made a promise the other night that I am bound to keep out of love."

She dropped her eyes quickly, turning back to look upon her uncle as he slowed his breathing down to a much steadier state of being. There was a small sound of rustling that came from beside her and caught her attention, causing Katherine to look up directly into the face of Queen Anne, who held a cushioned stool in her hands. "Then I pray you at least accept this," she said with a gentle smile. "To spare your knees from kneeling so long."

The girl found herself rather speechless as the Queen gazed down at her with the kindest eyes she had ever before seen, having risen from her own place to offer the little foot stool that was placed in the room for her comfort. "Thank you, Your Majesty."

Content that her gift had been accepted, Anne allowed the stool to transfer from her hand into Katherine's before she turned back and resumed her place in her chair. There was another moment of the girl being clearly stunned at having been addressed by the Dowager Queen of France in such a relaxed manner before she set it as close to D'Artagnan's chair as possible and resumed her post of watching him. The stool was not very high and barely permitted her to see over the table, but that didn't bother her in the slightest. If anything, Katherine wished that she had not allowed anyone to talk her into coming to court, where she felt completely out of place and plain, especially in the presence of a woman as great as the Queen. She lead a rather modest lifestyle back in the monastery with clothing that couldn't have been further from appropriate to being seen at court. And for someone who really hadn't put much thought into her appearance before, Katherine was suddenly rather conscious of the fact that she was dressed in a simple brown skirt, a blouse of white and shoes with no heel on them. She wore no jewellery no fancy hat or sashes. There was absolutely nothing about her that stood out at all, except perhaps the way in such she seemed glued to the side of the captain of the King's musketeers.

And those eyes. Those startling, blue eyes...

Realizing that the conversation had been closed, Philippe motioned for the others to take their seats and leaned back into his own chair, looking around the table with ease. He was among friends now, people that he trusted with his life. Even the girl who sat below him, the one he knew absolutely nothing about, had proven to be a friend when she had gone into the Bastille with her father and uncles in order to save the life of a complete stranger. "First, I want to thank you, all of you," he said with a glance toward Katherine and D'Artagnan, "for all that you have done for me. You have saved me from the Bastille twice now, and the other night you kept me alive." None of them spoke, merely listening to the words of praise that their King offered to them all to show his gratitude for his new position in life. "And I owe you for reuniting me with my mother," he added with a glance back at Anne, who smiled brightly from her chair. "Because I now know that I am no longer alone in this world as I thought I was. I have a purpose now...a way in which to use my life to serve other people."

D'Artagnan shifted a little in his chair as his eyes finally opened and his head turned to look at Philippe, a great sense of pride burning within the depths of the blue orbs. And while his hand still held tightly to Katherine's, she knew that he was looking up at this son and over toward the boy's mother with a look that she would never have seen before in his face. Again she felt that ripple of some untold emotion hit her stomach with vicious force, but she continued to keep her silent post at her uncle's feet. She did not yet trust herself to speak again in the presence of the King, nor even around the Queen Mother. There were just too many things going through her mind at that moment for her to truly focus on something more than just making sure that a certain someone was still alive.

"It gladdens my heart to hear you speak such words, Your Majesty," Aramis said in his gravelly voice from across the table. "For many years, we dreamed of serving a King who would bring peace to his people and be there to listen to their voices of pain and hunger. And now, for the very first time since your father was our ruler, I believe that France will have exactly that."

Philippe smiled, his chest breathing a small smile of relief. "I am glad."

Silence fell between them all as they allowed the moment to settle in, each casting glances around the table to see what the others were thinking at that moment. "Now," Philippe started slowly. "I asked you all here for the purpose of discussing what we should do in light of recent events. I do not wish for my brother to remain in the Bastille for the rest of his life." Katherine bit her tongue, wincing a little as she did so.

"What do you propose we do with him?" Athos asked, his voice far more even in tone than Katherine would have thought it would be.

"He caused a lot of pain when he was on the throne," Porthos chimed in. "And setting him free would make him a danger to you."

D'Artganan's hand tightened a little around Katherine's, prompting the girl to look up at him in concern as she placed her other hand on his arm in an attempt to soothe him, stroking the back of his hand with her thumb. Without even having spoken, she knew that he would not like the idea of Louis being inside the Bastille at all, despite the fact that the boy had nearly caused his death. Nor would he be alright with the idea of just letting him wander free in France, since he would be the biggest threat to the throne that Philippe would encounter.

"Which is why I wish for your council," Philippe nodded with a look to the four musketeers. "And why I wish for you to be present," he added to his mother. "Because this is not something I can decide for myself when it is not only my life he would come after."

There was a weight in his words that seemed to startle them all as they considered the truth behind them. Of course, Philippe was definitely the one who would be in the greatest danger if Louis were ever to find a way in which to come forward with his claim, but it would not solely be him that would become a target. Aramis...Athos...Porthos...D'Artagnan...they would all be looked upon as the enemy. Even Katherine, as a woman who had dressed herself in a boy's clothes in order to accompany them to the Bastille, would likely be someone that Louis would seek revenge upon if ever he came across her in the future, Aramis thought to himself in a bit of a panic. But perhaps not, for her clothing had helped to disguise her a little and she had not been all that close to him for a long period of time. Maybe there was a chance that she would be safe. Still, he was not entirely willing to take that risk on her life, and so looked up at his King rather quickly.

"My life would be nothing if he were to seek me out," he stated simply. "But I do not wish for any harm to come to Katherine for her part."

By now she was growing a little annoyed with their desire to be chivalrous about her, for Katherine had never really been one to like the idea of being saved from danger all the time. "I went because I would not be left to ponder your fate while you threw your lives into danger," she said stubbornly, her eyes locked on Aramis. "You told me what was to come, and I went knowing exactly what was involved. If indeed I am to become a target of revenge, it will be of my own making and no one elses."

"Kate," D'Artagnan growled softly in warning.

His tone quickly told the girl to lower her eyes and hold her tongue, which he had never before done to her in such a public manner. But she realized that she had probably overstepped a boundary that she would otherwise revere, and so settled herself back onto the stool with both hands in her lap after her uncle released his hold on her hand. The colour rose in her cheeks and they began to burn a little, knowing that the eyes of the King and Queen Anne were now on her. But she would not apologize, she absolutely refused to do that. There had been nothing wrong with the way she had phrased things, nor had she created any falsehoods in her story.

"Your Majesty must do as you see fit in this matter," he continued, now addressing Philippe directly. "But I beg that you remember who he is...and all of the wrong that he did to you over the course of your life. I understand if you cannot love him the way that you should, but pray do not become him." He shifted a little in his chair, trying to make himself a little more comfortable and remove some of the pressure that he had placed on his wound by resting against the back of the chair. The movement caught Katherine's eye and quickly brought her gaze up toward him in concern, which he seemed to ignore. She took this as a sign that he was displeased with her and lowered her eyes again, her jaw tight.

"After what he nearly took away from me, I could only fear becoming such a person," said the King, looking over at D'Artagnan as he swallowed. "Father."

It was like a knife had been plunged into her own back, that was the only way that Katherine could think of the pain that she felt at that utterance of that single word. The life she had known before had suddenly ceased to exist as another figure came into the place that she had once occupied, knowing that someone else had need of him more than she did now. She dared not move in case one of the others present asked what the trouble was, but she could feel the walls around her heart begin to squeeze terribly and make it a little harder to breathe.

"I am still here, my son," his low voice promised in an intimate moment between the two.

"I shall never be able to thank you enough for saving his life," Philippe spoke, his words directed down at Katherine.

Still the girl did not lift her eyes, but instead allowed the words to come forth in a quiet tone of voice void of any specific emotion. "To let an innocent man die would be a sin in the eyes of God."

Aramis narrowed his eyes as he glanced across the table at his daughter and her sudden ability to control her tongue. Something was going on, he knew it simply from the fact that she would not lift her eyes to speak to anyone now, which was a trait quite unlike Katherine, who preferred to establish eye contact with everyone so that she could judge the appearance of their eyes. It was said that they were the window to the soul, after all, and as a priest, he often found himself looking at someone's eyes as well to judge their character. Still, he couldn't single her out by asking her blatantly in front of Philippe or the Queen, so he would need to resist the impulse for the time being. And not a moment too soon, for the chimes of the clock could be heard to tell the time as being noon, which meant that he had somewhere he needed to be. Philippe seemed to be thinking along the same lines and rose from his chair, offering his hand out to his mother while the others also rose to their feet.

"I am afraid that I am now required for other matters," he said simply, giving his mother a smile. "Aramis, if you wish to, you are welcome to accompany us to the chapel." "Thank you, Your Majesty," he said with a bow. "The rest of you are more than welcome to whatever will please you. I've arranged for quarters to be at your disposal for the time that you are here, up the staircase to the right."

Everyone bowed as Philippe lead Anne out of the room, Aramis bringing up the end of their group before Katherine quickly moved to help D'Artagnan from his chair and resume her place at his side as his support. He grunted a little from the effort of removing himself from the chair and placing his weight back on his unsteady legs, seemingly greatful for the arms that moved immediately to hold him upright.

"We should get you settled into a room," Katherine said as soon as the King had disappeared from sight.

"Katherine-"

"You will need to rest after the journey." Her words were definite, cutting the conversation before it could begin as she started guiding them toward the door. But Athos and Porthos were quick to step toward the pair.

"Let us get him upstairs and settled," Porthos offered. "You look as if you need to go for a walk."

Silently cursing that Athos had picked up on something from her, the brunette simply nodded, allowing them to step forward and take control before she slipped out of the way and stepped back to watch them go. When none of them glanced back in her direction, Katherine took that as her cue to go and turned rather sharply toward the stairs, which she climbed with quick feet before she disappeared down the corridor. A moment to herself to collect her thoughts and emotions was exactly what she needed after that brief meeting, her heart and mind seeming to team against her as she struggled to keep her composure.

"Let her go," Athos muttered under his breath as he glanced over toward his niece, having spotted the look on D'Artagnan's face. "She is carrying something heavy in her heart that she is not yet ready to share."

Porthos, now curious of what was happening around him, also stole a look toward her retreating back. "How can you tell?"

Athos hesitated, looking over toward his two friends with a sad look of his own. "Because it was the same look I wore when I lost Raoul and I thought my heart would never be whole again."

Neither of them seemed to understand as they manouvered the stairs and began the gradual climb up to the rooms that Philippe had set aside for their use. "She will come back," he promised, trying to ease the stress he saw on D'Artagnan's face. "Katherine would never leave anyone else to care for you."

But the older man was not so easily soothed by words, knowing in his heart that there was something going unsaid. He had immediately regretted the way in which he had spoken to her earlier when he saw the way that she reacted, never having disciplined her in such a manner before. And now she was moving away from him in more than just one way...

"I will speak to her then," he decided, gritting his teeth as they mounted the stairs as gingerly as possible. "Perhaps she will be ready to tell me what she's holding onto so tightly by tonight."