December Desolation Chapter 11

A/N: Chapter eleven guys, enjoy :D

Swallowing thickly around his very dry throat, Athos grimaced at the prickling sensation and coughed harshly.
'Why do I feel as if I have been swallowing stones' he mused in bafflement, gently massaging the sore spot, a dull thump broke him from his reverie and his eyes fell upon the Shakespeare play by his feet.
'Ah' he hummed internally as he leant to pick up the fallen tome, 'that is what happened' he smiled fondly at the memory of Aramis asking him to read and then them all dropping off to sleep one after the other.

Flicking his eyes over to the bed he jolted into awareness as he saw rumpled sheets but no Aramis, D'artagnan lay sprawled like a starfish across the entirety of the bed, hair matted chaotically and fingers clenched tightly around the sheet.
He pulled himself painfully out of the chair, legs dead and back protesting after a night spent unwisely in an uncomfortable position, staggering drunkenly across the floor towards the door.

This was typical Aramis behaviour, if anyone else was ill or injured then they would be in bed and come hell or high water he would be there, forcing them to relax and stay in bed until completely healed and bouncing off the walls with boredom, raring to get back to duty. Now if Aramis was ill, then nothing short of restraints or Porthos could keep him in bed for even one day once he felt he was capable of working, so he had little doubt that once he reached the courtyard outside he would find his wayward brother. Sure enough as he made his way down the Garrison steps he spotted a familiar figure slumped across the break table, head pillowed on leather clad arms.

Before he could reach his brothers side, Treville had come striding through the gates with a rather grim expression marring his face. "Athos, I am glad you are awake" he came to a halt beside his lieutenant "the King wants you on guard duty immediately, there has been a series of threatening messages left at the palace"

"I will collect the others and leave straight away Captain" Athos replied crisply, turning on his heel to wake up the others. Suddenly a voice came from behind them both "I shall wait here for you until you are ready" Aramis mumbled into his arms as remained face down upon the table.

Not twenty minutes later and Athos, Porthos and D'artagnan had made their way down to the courtyard, armed to the teeth and in full regalia of the Kings Musketeers to be greeted by their injured brother standing waiting by the gate.

"Aramis what are ya doin?" Porthos exclaimed exasperatedly "you shouldn be out of bed!"

"I am perfectly fine my big friend" Aramis smiled, tipping his hat at a jaunty angle and bending low into a showman like bow which he straightened from with great difficulty, breathing become harsh for a moment. "Besides a little birdie told me the King was asking after me and it would not do to disappoint"

Without much further ado the four of them were mounted and riding off into the streets of Paris on their respective steeds, racing towards the palace and their duty. Aramis grimaced in discomfort as a burning set up in his thigh from the steady jolting of their ride but he brushed it away impatiently, eager to return to duty and fill his mind with other thoughts than the previous days.

Their leathers and blue cloaks did little to provide the men with the necessary warmth to combat the chill of the December air, and by the time they arrived at the palace they were barely able to feel their fingers with their breath visible in the frigid air. Traipsing up the gravel path seemed to take an eternity and the King met them halfway in his anxiety "Ah my loyal Musketeers, how wonderful it is to see you so promptly".

They dismounted swiftly and in Aramis' case stiffly and stood to attention in front of Louis, removing their hats in respect "Your Highness" they responded. Aramis stumbled as he took a step back, leg giving partially away as he allowed too much weight to rest upon it, drawing the attention of the king to himself.

"Ah Aramis" the King exclaimed in delight "you have returned to us!" he clapped his hands happily and gestured to a servant that loitered nervously nearby. "You, bring me wine and a table, I wish to dine outside with my dear Musketeers!"

"Damn" Porthos cussed, rubbing his hands together in frustration and an attempt to warm himself up, "why is it that whenever we end up ere, we are outside in the cold on the whim of a barmy King"

"Peace Porthos" Athos soothed, "we can warm up later but for now we must do our duty"

Once settled around a lavishly set table piled high with pastries and tea, the King turned attentively towards Aramis and struck up a conversation. "So Aramis, where have you been? I was anticipating your amusing banter last time your fellow men were here on guard duty, I was most disappointed at your absence"

"I apologise Your Highness" Aramis replied softly, bowing his head "I was unavoidably detained by injury" subtle tremors began to shake his fingers where they gripped the handle of a teacup with too much force.

"How terrible" Louis exclaimed, obviously interested beyond measure by the gory details that may be forthcoming "what happened?"

"It was merely a gunshot wound Your Highness, a flesh wound to the thigh" Aramis' face continued to grow paler as the conversation proceeded, having reached the shade of a cadaver before it had finally become too much for him to bear. "Please excuse me Your Highness" he stated politely, voice wavering as he stumbled to his feet unsteadily, vision whiting out, his return to vertical occurring with too much haste as the surroundings where replaced by bloody snow and a dark forest.

A/N: Sorry for this chapter, it's a little brief and a bit of a filler but I hope you like it all the same! Next time we see another episode with Aramis and the reaction of the King and his brothers, please read and review and let me know what you think :D