I think this might be the longest chapter I have yet written for this story. I apologize for the wait, but that only makes it more fun when I do get around to posting chapters, right? :D So here you go, another installment of my story. Please leave me a review when you're done reading! I'm really pleased to see what people are following me and my work, but I never know what you guys think of it because nobody likes to leave me a little note XD

Chapter XXIV

"I'm so sorry."

The broken whisper echoed through the empty room. All of the curtains had been drawn tightly over the windows to keep any possible infection from reaching the already fragile creature who lay on the bed, still covered in the thick quilt despite the beads of sweat that had continued to drip down along her pale skin. He had long since abandoned the idea of brushing it away with the cool cloth that had been left for him, having laid it in the bowl of water that now sat on the desk nearest the window. It wouldn't be able to help any further now.

Aramis had not moved from his place in the chair since Katherine had first been brought upstairs from the ball, though his body was feeling the ache of having remain stationary for so long. Exhaustion was clearly written across his face, mingling with the deep sense of grief that had overwhelmed him over the past two days. Despite all assurances from his friends that his daughter was a stubborn young thing who would not give in easily to her own sickness, despite the long hours he had spent praying by her bedside with her hand held tightly in his own, there had been no real change that might bring the old man hope. Not even the physician, who had returned twice since that night to check on Katherine, had looked at all optimistic when he had left the room some hours before, having shaken his head and dropped his eyes so that he might avoid making any kind of contact with Aramis. It was then, in that single moment, that the old priest had stopped his prayers.

What more was there to do? If God was not going to answer him and the earthly physician had given up then what was there left for Aramis to do but sit and weep? In his youth he never would have allowed his emotions to have taken such profound control of him, knowing that even a moment of weakness could allow the enemy the chance that they needed to gain the upper hand and slice through his defenses completely. But it had been his own life on the line then; his and the life of the man who occupied the throne of France and looked to his musketeers to keep the peace throughout the land. They had been responsible for ensuring that the life of the King was left unharmed until that day when God himself would call the soul away from the body, appointing another to pick up the reins from where the other had left them waiting, and then Aramis would protect that man as he had his predecessor. There had never been a question of his loyalty to the crown, nor of his undying devotion to the spiritual part of his soul that would always seek comfort in prayer.

And yet he could no longer bring himself to ask for any kind of divine intervention now. His faith was being tested, much like Abraham had been tested when asked to sacrifice his only son to show his love and devotion to God. But unlike his Biblical counterpart, there had been no choice for Aramis.

There had been no moment of begging and pleading with the messenger angel to let him take the place of his child, to let him suffer the ailment that had plagued her body. All there was for the old man to do was continue to berate himself for his foolishness, knowing that the only reason Katherine had been injured at all was because he had allowed her to accompany him to the Bastille that night. He had put his fatherly concerns aside because he had been so focused on rescuing Philippe that he did not think more than twice before he gave his consent, handing her a weapon with which to defend herself and then leaving her to stand her own ground against whatever dangers they might have encountered. He had practically handed her over to Death…

Tears continued to silently stream down his face as he held tightly to her hand, his face pressed down against the top of the bed. His shoulders continued to shake slightly from the unsteady breaths that he drew into his lungs, turning his head only slightly so that his cheek rested against the tips of her fingers and his eyes could once more look up at the motionless face of the young woman that he loved so dearly.

"I never should have let you go," he whispered, feeling his heart contract violently in his chest as if someone had stabbed him in the same spot over and over again. "It was too dangerous…I knew that and yet I still let you go. When I was supposed to be protecting you, I turned my back and expected for you to remain unharmed, vainly thinking that we wouldn't allow anyone to slip past us and harm Philippe."

The feeling of guilt hit once again, causing Aramis to close his eyes tightly and turn his face into the top of her hand instead, fingers holding even tighter to her as if he were afraid that she might slip from his grasp completely at the mention of the boy that they had saved. Of all the times to mention Philippe aloud, this was not the time for him to do so! How dare he even think of another human being while his child lay on the doorstep of death! What kind of father was he truly, if his thoughts could not remain in a constant state of worry for Katherine, a poor creature who had never harmed a soul in her life and accepted his way of life only to please him? Any personal thoughts of happiness had always been set aside so that she might find some sort of favour with her father and his friends…

"You should have been kept safe," he growled through his tears, teeth grit in self-loathing fury. "You never should have come…you…you…" Aramis sighed, giving into the sobs that he had struggled to suppress throughout the day. "You deserve better."

"There will never be anyone better than you, Papa."

His head shot up so quickly that he could feel a rather painful twinge in the back of his neck, which he ignored as his eyes grew wide and the sobs began once more. She was still as pale as a ghost in contrast to the rich colours that surrounded her, but she was awake, her bright blue eyes gazing fondly in his direction and the corners of her lips perked upward in the faintest of smiles. Her voice had been rather weak in comparison to her normally strong tone of voice, and yet Aramis couldn't bring himself to care. He was on his feet in an instant, ignoring the angry groans of his joints, and moving to wrap his arms around his daughter who could only give a soft sigh of relief and gingerly lift one hand to lay against his quivering shoulder. He buried his face against her neck and shoulder, warm tears freely flowing from his skin onto her own.

"God be praised!"

The pressure in Katherine's hand increased slightly. "I hope those tears were not shed in fear for me."

A shot of laughter pushed through his sobs and the man lifted his body only slightly so that he could brush away the stray locks of hair that had clung to her sweaty brow. Just seeing Katherine smile up at him again, no matter how tired and ill her body still was, unleashed a joy that Aramis had never thought to experience in his life. Suddenly everything in the world had been set right again, her small laugh at the kiss he placed on her forehead becoming music so satisfying to the heart and soul that he thought nothing else could ever compare to its sound. While she was not yet whole again, she had been allowed back into his life. He was not to be punished for his actions after all.

"I have been so frightened," he admitted, letting his hand caress her pale cheek as he continued to gaze down at her with all of the love and affection that he could possibly possess for his daughter. "I thought that I was going to lose you forever."

"Oh, Papa," Katherine murmured, blinking slowly to clear the slight blur in her vision that had come with the tears that pricked her eyes. "I could never leave you."

He would not point out to her that she had indeed almost done so, not after he had just gotten her back. The relief that had washed over him far outweighed the worry that he could still feel coursing through his system, allowing himself to look past the fragile creature he held in his arms to instead appreciate the fact that she was able to look upon him with the same adoration in her eyes that he had seen many times throughout the years. And as he lifted one hand to gently press against her forehead, Aramis breathed a sigh and allowed his shoulders to fall forward a little. Her fever had broken completely. The danger had passed.

"I am sorry that I frightened you."

Blinking down at her, Aramis found that he was slightly taken aback by her words, watching as regret began to form in her eyes. There were tears there as well, ones that had not yet spilled down onto her skin, but tears nonetheless.

The old man shook his head. "It matters not. As long as you are alright, nothing else in the world could possibly matter."

"You should not say that," she said quickly, drawing a shallow breath that rattled a little in her chest. "He matters. If there had been any danger for him then you should have left me to keep him safe."

"The musketeer in me would agree," Aramis nodded firmly. Reaching out for one of her hands, he gently wrapped his fingers around it and brought it back to hold tightly against his chest. "But as a father, I could not do it."

She wanted to argue; tell him that he would have been dishonouring his oath as a musketeer if he failed to protect his King from any impending dangers that lay in wait for him. He could see it so clearly in her face that Aramis almost thought to laugh aloud at her stubborn will, for it was surely a sign that she truly was getting better as each moment passed. But she wouldn't understand where he was coming from when he refused like that, brushing aside his sworn duty as if the words meant little. And how could she? Yes, he had sworn an oath once that said he would protect his King and country with his very life, uttering words with many other young men who had pledged to do the very same thing. But when a knock had sounded on the door of the monastery that night and Aramis had pulled the heavy wooden frame aside, he had taken upon himself another kind of oath. He had become responsible for another human being who had had no one else in the world to care for her, no one to keep her safe from the world that she had been so unkindly thrust into.

There had been no piece of paper to sign, no grand ceremony in which he made his promise before a room full of people. There was no wealth and no title awaiting him at the end of the journey. There was just Katherine, someone who loved him unconditionally and always made his life just that little bit easier to bear. There had been some trials during her youth, of course. No child really wanted to live behind the walls of a monastery when there was a whole world on the other side that beckoned to them each and every day. Nor did she want to spend her time in silent prayer while the others of his religion knelt on the hard floor and entreated to God on behalf of their King and his people. She had wanted to be outside, roaming freely about the grounds and exploring the gardens so that she could better understand the beauty of nature by seeing it with her own eyes. And those were the things she got when she was in the care of his friends for a few hours at a time.

Yet the more he thought about it, the more Aramis came to realize how truly wrong he had been. His job did come with a title; Papa. And the wealth that came to him was not of monetary value, but in the love and respect that Katherine had shown him over her last twenty years of life.

Perhaps to some it wouldn't mean anything, but to Aramis it was more precious than all of the gold and riches in the world.

Katherine smiled softly at him and lifted one of her shaking hands until it came into gentle contact with his cheek, brushing her thumb against his skin. "I love you too, Papa."

Together they sat in a comfortable silence, knowing that no further words needed to be said. Aramis moved only to pull her hand up to his lips so that he might kiss the back of it before he placed it over his heart once more, noting how her skin seemed to be warmer than it had previously been. Through where he pressed it against the fabric of his tunic, Katherine could feel the steady beat of his heart against her flesh until it almost felt as if her own had taken up a syncopated rhythm with his, yet another sign that she was on the mend.

The silence was gone, however, when the commotion began outside of her room and the voices told her that people were approaching from somewhere down the hall. Everything was muffled, and so she heard none of the words that were spoken at all until the sound of the doors being pushed aside rang through the room, footsteps hurrying inside. But as her father sat on the edge of the bed and Katherine was still too weak to move freely, her sight was blocked.

"Aramis, I just heard-"

Katherine's heart leapt in her chest as his voice carried all the way to her, watching as her father slowly turned himself around to look at the newcomer and shift his body just enough for her eyes to tell her what her ears already knew. In that moment their eyes made contact and the entire world seemed to fade away until they were the only two people left.

"Philippe."

It was the soft utterance of his name that broke their fantasy, bringing the boy forward and to the other side of the bed with such haste that he came to a stop rather roughly at her side. He stared down at her with wide eyes, chest heaving slightly with each intake of air as he struggled to comprehend the fact that what he saw was the truth. And as she tried to reach out to him with her free hand he dropped to his knees beside the bed, his body now eye level with her own. A finger gently traced along his temple, down around his eye and past his cheek until it reaches his jaw line. He in turn leaned forward into her touch and gently held her hand in both of his, all the while staring at her in disbelief.

For a moment there was absolutely nothing except for the touch of the King who knelt at her side. The beat of her heart picked up once again when he reached out to stroke her hair, brushing it lightly away from her face and back onto the pillow instead. His own eyes reflected the combination of fear and relief that she could still see deep within them, stemming right from the bottom of his soul as he seemed to struggle with whether to laugh or cry at seeing her alive and well.

"I was so worried," he murmured as he stroked her cheek.

At this, the girl gave another weak laugh. "The King of France, worried about a little thing like me? What would your people say to hear you talk of such a common girl in that way?"

Philippe parted his lips as if to speak again when more sounds filtered in through the doorway and removed both his and Katherine's attention from their shared moment together. Aramis gently lay his daughter's hand back on the bed and rose from his place beside her, moving his body so that she could fully see who it was that had come through the door so unceremoniously, clearly displeased with Philippe for having run off as he had. But the tension in her body melted away completely when she heard their voices, watching as each of them in turn slowly came to realize what it was that had brought Philippe upstairs in such haste. She didn't know who it was that had gone down and told them the news, for her own thoughts had been rather preoccupied with her father and Philippe up until this point, but she supposed that it didn't really matter who it was that had gone seek them out or how it was that they had learned the truth. All that mattered was that they were all there now.

And they were clearly glad to see her.

It was Porthos who was first to break the spell that had surrounded them, moving swiftly around his friends so that he could take up the place only recently vacated by Aramis and lean forward to brush a kiss against her forehead. The familiar scratch of his course facial hair immediately made Katherine close her eyes tight, but the smile of delight remained on her lips even as he pulled away and looked down at her with a look of relief to rival that of her own dear Papa.

"Do not ever do that again," he grumbed, earning himself a small laugh in reply.

Of the men who had been present in her life over the years, Porthos had always been the one to maintain the positive energy that she had so desperately needed in order to survive her life within the monastery walls, very seldom ever scolding the girl for the choices she made. She had asked him once why it was that he never seemed to disapprove of the things that she said and did, knowing that the others always had something to say when she had made a mistake of some kind. His answer had been simple. The life she had been given was her own, and as such she needed to learn about that life by making her own choices, without the heavy influences of other people who might direct her down a path of their own choosing. As long as she was prepared to deal with the consequences of her actions and did her best to remain within the laws of the land, he would be there to help her back to her feet when she fell down. Porthos had sworn that he would never abandon her, no matter the outcome of those choices…and here he was, keeping the promise he had once given to a small child.

"Best be careful, Uncle Porthos," she whispered to him, lifting a hand to gently trace the age lines that showed themselves heavily in his face. "If you continue to worry about me like that, you will be completely grey before you leave this room."

"And you would be the cause of it, my girl," replied the old man in his gruff tone.

Athos materialized at her other side, taking up the space that Philippe had occupied only moments before. With a turn of her head, Katherine could make out the haunted look that had taken over his eyes when he looked down on her, instantly feeling her heart give a flutter of guilt in her chest. Without realizing it, she had almost hurt him all over again. She had seen how badly he had been tortured over the death of Raoul, watched as that agony built itself up until he had gone on to attack one of his friends in an effort to deal with his pain. And while Athos had made great strides in coming to grips with the loss of his child she could only imagine the images that flashed before his eyes at having seen what had become of her in the time that her memory had lost.

"Uncle Athos-"

The old man cut her off by leaning his body down and pressing a soft kiss to her temple, pulling back to watch her for only a moment before he resumed his full height and turned to address the others. "I shall go and report the news to the Queen."

"I will go to the chapel," Aramis nodded. "I have quite a bit of praying to do now."

"And Philippe needs to be returned to his own chambers," added Porthos, rising to his feet to look at the boy who stood quietly behind Athos. "Andre and I will return him there."

"I shall stay with Katherine."

Together the four of them seemed to make enough plans to keep themselves occupied for the next little while, leaving Katherine to look between them anxiously before she turned her gaze back to Philippe. She knew that there was something else going on, something that they were refusing to share with her. Or perhaps this was her punishment, watching them all go and busy themselves with other things to keep their displeasure at bay until she was better able to face their anger. At least one of them was upset with her, it had been clear in his voice when he had opted to remain in the room with her while the others returned to their various tasks. Porthos signalled to Philippe who left without a parting word, followed closely by Athos and Aramis who both appeared to be rather in a hurry.

She had seen no sign of Andre in the room despite his mention, so she could only assume that he was standing on the other side of the door awaiting the time when he would be needed. But it was strange to hear that he was so close by at a time like this…and why were they escorting Philippe back to his chambers? Confused by the whole affair, Katherine turned her bright blue eyes to the only other person who remained in the room, and suddenly found herself to be rather nervous at being left with only him.

D'Artagnan did not look pleased at all.

His hands were held tightly behind his back, shoulders square and chest out; the stance he would have taken when he was addressing his men before a battle was to begin. She'd seen him take up this look many times before, though never before had he turned his eye on her in such a manner. While stern at times, she had never seen him look so furious with her, noting the tightness of his jaw and the slight narrowing of his eyes that instantly made the girl aware of just how much trouble she was truly in. Katherine wasn't scared of him, she didn't think she would ever actually be scared of D'Artagnan. But she couldn't deny the fact that she was uncomfortable to be there at that moment, under such scrutiny that she thought he might perhaps begin some kind of tirade at any minute.

"Uncle, please-"

"What were you thinking?" he demanded hotly.

"I can explain!"

"I damn well wish you would!"

The girl gasped, startled by the harsh tone and cold words that he spoke. Despite the many times in her childhood that she had done something displeasing, he had never before addressed her in such a fashion, and it cut deep against her heart to hear those words thrown so violently in her direction.

"You do not understand," she began.

But he cut her off once more, taking a few heavy steps in her direction. "You are quite right, I do not understand at all! Of all people, you should know better than most what happens when wounds like that are not treated properly! You have seen people succumb to lesser ailments and still you neglected to care for yourself!"

His voice barely rose, but the anger was all too clear to her ears. Her body tensed beneath the covers that shielded her body from prying eyes, her heart pounding so loudly that she was almost sure he would be able to hear it above his fury. Her eyes grew wider as the seconds passed, watching him until he stood only a foot or so away from the edge of the bed and continued to glare down at her with fire-filled orbs. And in her fright, her arms automatically moved in a vain effort to push her body upright so that she might put a little distance between them once more. Yet she was not strong enough for any such thing and as soon as she applied pressure into the hands she had planted against the mattress, she cried out in pain and closed her eyes tightly, teeth grit.

"They needed you," she whispered, words cracking slightly under the strain of her emotions. "More so than they needed me."

She curled her body up slightly, pulling away from the side of the bed by which he stood. His eyes were still locked on her, she could feel it without necessarily turning her head back to glance upward at him, not that she wanted to do that either. For the very first time in her life, Katherine found herself afraid of the words that he would speak next, almost sure that he would cut her off once again. But when he didn't, she summoned up the courage to continue as quickly as she could, letting the words spill forth from her lips before she could second guess her choice and choke on the truth.

"You had just found the son you had known nothing about. Your own health was slowly beginning to improve and things were finally starting to look as if they might work out in your favour, for once in your life." Katherine paused for a moment, taking a breath before she dared to continue. "My only concern was in making sure that you were well again so that you had a chance at the life that had been denied to you. And if that meant that my life was to be given in place of yours then I was willing to pay that price!"

The last of her words rang clear through the room until the pair were left in a silence that would have made even the most regal of persons uncomfortable. It was almost as if time had come to a standstill, leaving them both in frozen positions from which neither seemed willing to move. Shivers coursed up her spine, causing the girl to shake as silent tears began to form in her eyes and make their way slowly down her cheeks. A trembling hand lifted to press tightly to her mouth and muffle any of the sobs that might have escaped, shoulders beginning to shake with the tell-tale signs of her sadness. Aside from the physical pain that she was experiencing because of her illness, there was a much deeper pain that pervaded through her body and squeezed its dark hand around her heart, making it difficult to breathe properly. It was absolutely agonizing to feel herself placed in this position, forced to explain the actions that she had taken so as to give those she loved the most their best chance at life. Of course, she hadn't counted on…well…

A touch to her shoulder came out of nowhere. Katherine jumped violently and gasped, her head snapping quickly around in fright to see that D'Artagnan had seated himself on the edge of the bed and reached out to close the gap that lay between them. His own eyes widened when he saw the sheer terror that radiated in her eyes when she looked at him, her chest rising and falling in quick succession to further show her jittering nerves to his gaze. Oh God, what had he done?

"Katherine…"

That was all it took. The remorseful tone of voice used to speak her name brought the girl back toward him until her fragile form lay across his arms and could be brought up to his chest in a tight embrace. A heavy sigh of relief fell from his parted lips as he pulled her in tight, burying his face against the softness of her hair when he felt the small outline of her hand press itself against his chest. Her silent tears had already begun to leak through the thin material of his shirt but she uttered not another sound as he held her, taking care not to hurt her at all with his stronger grip.

To think that he had nearly broken the bond of trust that had existed between them for years with his cruelty, allowing his own fears to get the better of him and lash out at her. Of course he was upset with her. It had been foolish of her disregard her health like that no matter the good intentions she had had in doing so. But he had intimidated her with his anger and had felt the cold wave of remorse wash over his body almost immediately after she had pulled away from him with that horrified look in her eyes. She was there now though, he thought quickly to himself with a gentle shake of his head. Katherine was safely in his arms and no longer fearing the wrath that her uncle had shown her.

At least that was what he hoped.

Gently he began to stroke her hair, shifting his body just enough so that she was no longer sprawled across the surface of the mattress to meet him but rather held in the strong comfort of his arms as he sat behind her and accepted the weight of her body onto his own. She had tensed when he had begun to move, almost as if she feared that he might remove himself entirely from her presence and leave her to her own thoughts despite his promise to remain with her. Only once he had settled himself again did she relax in his hold and allow her shaking to cease, clinging to his arm as tightly as her body would allow. At the steady rise and fall of her chest, D'Artagnan allowed himself to feel a little more at ease as well, knowing that the dangers had passed.

"I really am sorry," she whispered through the remnants of her emotions. "I did not mean for things to go as far as they did."

D'Artagnan sighed. "I know."

But the girl shook her head, struggling to lift her body and turn just enough so that she might face her uncle once more. "No, you do not know," she insisted quietly. "All I wanted was to make sure that you were well enough to walk on your own for the ceremony. I wanted people to see that you were not to be made an invalid because of your injury and allow you to keep faith with your men. I allowed my pride to get in the way and cloud my judgements."

To see her looking so pale and delicate made the Captain's stomach churn. Of all the times that he had known his niece to be sick she had never before looked so ill, so weak that she might have been knocked over with a simple wave of a hand. He could tell by looking at her that she would not be able to stand on her own, and his mind immediately returned to the days that followed his own injury. To see that reflected in her, all of that pain and trust that he was forced to place in others during a time when he hadn't been able to care properly for himself, made the old man shudder. It wasn't right. She was young, a woman of but twenty years who should have been enjoying the freedom of life without the physical restrictions of someone far older than herself. At least he had been able to take comfort in the fact that he had lived a strong number of years before the injury had been forced upon his body. Katherine was to have no such comfort.

D'Artagnan slowly brushed the back of his hand against her cheek, feeling the familiar warmth slowly return and cause her to blush a little under his gaze. "Perhaps," he agreed lightly, watching as her eyes dropped in shame. "And yet," he added as he hooked his finger under her chin to life her head once more. "You were not taken from us. I must believe that there is still something on this earth for you to do with the life you have been given, someone who may need your love and guidance."

Eyes widened and cheeks flushed an even brighter shade of pink as the young woman drank in the meaning of his words, lips parting as if to speak although no sound dared to travel forward. He was old, that D'Artagnan would soon be willing to acknowledge. But he was not yet blind.

"You have saved him, and you have saved me."

Closing his eyes, D'Artagnan leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his niece's forehead, allowing his lips to linger there as he breathed against her skin. "Now let us save you, ma petite."

Her own eyes pressed themselves tightly together as she once more placed her body close and allowed him to wrap his strong arms around her. And for his part, he simply held her, laying a cheek atop of her head as he continued to stroke her hair with nimble fingers. It did not take long at all for weariness to overtake Katherine, who slowly dozed off as her uncle continued to hold her close to him and stare at the doorway for any signs of impending danger. They had only just gotten her back, he thought. And he would be damned if he let anything happen to her now.