A/N: Thank you pallysAramisRios and SnidgetHex for reviewing!
Chapter 4
The next morning, Anne and Constance waited tensely for what would become of them. Anne hoped that if these people did decide to execute her that they would spare Constance. She never should have dragged her into this.
The tent flap flung open as Emilie strode in. The older woman, black man, and Aramis followed behind. Anne and Constance rose to their feet.
"God has shown me what to do. You will return to Paris. Aramis will escort you."
Anne had to fight to keep an utterly relieved smile from breaking her composure.
"There is one condition for your release," Emilie went on. "The King must grant me an audience."
"I will do everything in my power," Anne quickly promised.
"Tell the King we treated you fairly. He has no need to be frightened of his people." Emilie turned, paused to look at Aramis, and then exited the tent. Her followers trailed after her.
Constance moved to pick up their cloaks. Aramis stepped in front of both them.
"Don't ever do that again," he said in a low tone.
Anne grimaced at the recrimination. "I will always serve my country," she said steadfastly. "But, perhaps this time it was unwise."
"Foolish is the better word."
Anne looked at Constance. "I am sorry for putting you in danger."
Constance shifted in discomfort. "Well, at least we can go now."
"I'll be right there," Aramis said, moving past them. He paused for a moment, then grabbed a canteen hanging off one of the posts and checked its contents. He then picked up a bowl of leftover soup from last night and poured it into the container.
"What are you doing?" Anne asked.
"I think this soup caused Constance's nightmare."
"But we all shared the same meal," Constance said.
"You used the same bowl as Emilie and had similar dreams. It might be coincidence but let's find out."
He capped the container and tucked it inside his jacket, then gestured for them to head out.
Every eye in the encampment followed them as they made their way to the bridge. Anne felt their hatred boring into her, and even with Aramis by her side, she didn't feel safe until they were well away from the camp. Aramis kept glancing over his shoulder, perhaps to make sure they weren't being followed.
They reached the palace and entered through one of the back doors. Anne only then realized she'd forgotten her dress back at Constance's, though it was too late to turn around and go there to get it. Aramis led the way through the halls, looking around to make sure the coast was clear. Anne felt a surge of gratitude for his discretion.
Unfortunately, fate was not going to spare her a second time, it seemed, for around the next corner, they came face to face with the King and Rochefort.
"Where have you been?" Louis demanded. He blinked dubiously at her clothes. "What are you wearing?"
Aramis opened his mouth as though to respond but faltered and looked to Anne, at a loss.
She grimaced. "I…went to see Emilie," she confessed.
Louis's eyes rounded. "You did what?" he nearly shrieked.
"You dare take the Queen into the heart of the enemy," Rochefort snapped at Aramis.
"Aramis did not take me anywhere," she rejoined sharply. "I went on my own. By God's grace, he was nearby and able to step in to escort me home. And these are our own people you speak of, Rochefort, not some invading enemy." She turned back to the King. "I was only trying to help put a stop to the violence."
Louis spluttered at her incredulously. "You left the palace, alone. Went to this Emilie's camp. What if you had been bewitched there? Or the Devil had possessed you?" His voice rose in pitch with each word until he was shrilling again.
Anne huffed in exasperation. "Do not be ridiculous. Emilie is not a witch."
She didn't know what the girl was, but she wasn't going to jump to witchcraft as the explanation for everything.
Louis's cheeks puffed red with rage. "But the sorceress Milady is out there!" he shrieked, flinging his arm in a raving gesture. "I forbid you from setting foot outside the palace again!"
With that, he turned on his heel and stormed out.
Anne gaped after him in shock. She'd known how afraid he was of witchcraft, but he was taking it too far. They couldn't hide themselves away and neglect what was happening to their people.
"Escort Bonacieux's daughter back to the dragon compound," Rochefort ordered Aramis.
Aramis glanced at Anne first, and she gave a subtle nod for him and Constance to go.
When it was just Anne and Rochefort, the Comte drew a step closer to her.
"I commend your bravery, Your Majesty, but that was incredibly foolish of you."
She bristled at being called foolish a second time that day. "You are talking to your Queen, Rochefort. And while my actions may have been unwise, I have proven that Emilie can be reasoned with."
Unfortunately, she just realized she likely had zero chance of convincing Louis to meet with her now. If Emilie's demands weren't met, what would she do next?
"Besides," Anne went on, "the Musketeers might have a lead on what's causing her so-called visions from God, and it isn't witchcraft."
Rochefort's jaw ticked at that, though Anne couldn't understand why he would find such news irritating. If they could prove Emilie wasn't a witch, then perhaps the King would agree to meet with her after all. Anne hoped Aramis found answers soon, before more innocent people were killed.
.o.0.o.
On their way out of the palace, Aramis stopped at Lemay's apartments to request his assistance in examining the soup.
"Soup?" the physician repeated.
"We think there might be something in it that gives you nightmares," Constance explained.
Lemay blinked at them dubiously. "And how do you expect me to establish that?"
"You are a man of science," Aramis said.
"I'm a doctor, not an alchemist." He glanced between them. "But I will do what I can."
He retrieved his trunk of tools and accompanied them back to the garrison where Aramis gave him a room to work in.
"I should get home," Constance said. "My father is probably worried sick."
Aramis nodded, then grimaced. "I need to send someone to fetch Rhaego, let him know I'm not at the camp anymore."
"Will you be going back?" Constance asked in concern.
"I don't know. I suppose it depends on what Lemay finds."
Constance reached out to squeeze his hand. "Be careful."
Aramis gave her a soft smile in return.
She left, and Aramis went to the dragon dens where he found Savron and Vrita, along with most of the other dragons, and he realized the garrison was rather sparse of musketeers at the moment. Everyone seemed to be out, probably dispatching the mobs.
"Will one of you get Rhaego?" he asked. "I'm afraid I didn't have a chance to signal him when I left the camp."
Savron nodded and took to the air. Just then, Aramis spotted Athos, Porthos, and d'Artagnan entering the garrison, so he made his way over to them.
"You're back," d'Artagnan said.
"What did you find?" Athos asked.
Aramis grimaced, realizing he'd have to tell d'Artagnan his wife had gone to the camp without telling him. "I'm not sure yet," he answered. "Doctor Lemay is examining some soup that may be responsible for Emilie's visions."
"Soup?" Athos repeated dubiously.
"Better than from God, isn't it?"
Athos canted his head at that.
"Um, there was an…incident, while I was there," Aramis went on, then proceeded to relay the Queen's visit and what had transpired while she was at the camp.
"Constance is fine," he assured d'Artagnan when he finished.
"What the hell was the Queen thinking?" Porthos said gruffly.
"She just wanted to help," Aramis defended.
"She's lucky she wasn't executed," Athos said.
"She knows that."
"How long before Lemay makes a determination about the soup?"
"I don't know. I'll check."
Aramis headed for the workroom where he'd left the physician, only to find him completely passed out on the table. He rushed forward and shook the man's shoulder. Lemay made a sound, proving he was alive. Aramis grabbed his arm and slung it over his shoulder. Lemay began to rouse slightly as Aramis half dragged him outside.
"Get some fresh air. Breathe," Aramis encouraged.
Lemay stumbled against a post to brace himself. "Thank you," he panted.
The others noticed and hurried over. Athos stopped to pick up a cup of water from the yard table, which he held out to Lemay.
"Are you all right?" he asked. "What happened?"
Lemay took a drink, still breathing heavily. "I tried your soup."
"What did you discover?" Aramis asked.
"Minutes after I sampled it, I experienced a series of remarkable delusions. I believe the broth contains a powerful narcotic drug, probably derived from a species of wild mushroom."
The musketeers exchanged looks at that.
"So Emilie's faking these visions," Porthos said.
"No," Aramis countered. "The visions are real. And I believe her mother is the one behind it. Emilie is innocent."
"We still have to find a way to stop her," Athos pointed out.
Aramis nodded soberly. "I know a way she'll come willingly. We give her what she most wants."
.o.0.o.
When Savron returned with Rhaego, the four musketeers mounted their dragons and flew back to Emilie's camp. Aramis slid down from the saddle and made his way into the throng of people who parted to let him pass, though their gazes held suspicion now that he'd returned with the people he'd claimed to have deserted. He glanced back at his brothers, expression grim over what he had to do.
Emilie and her mother hurried out to meet him.
"The King has granted you an audience," he declared.
Emilie's face went slack with shock and she immediately dropped to her knees and crossed herself, bowing her head in thanksgiving. The crowd cheered.
"Raymond will choose twenty of our best men to accompany us," her mother said, grasping her daughter's hands and lifting her back to her feet.
"Emilie is to return with us," Aramis interjected. "Alone."
Everyone's joyous expressions faltered.
"It's a trap," her mother spat.
"Is it?" Emilie asked him.
It was, though perhaps not in the way she meant. Aramis consoled his conscience with the fact that they only wanted to help her see the truth, not harm her.
"You have my word."
Emilie smiled, then turned to her mother and nodded her agreement.
Her mother clasped the sides of her face. "If you're not back soon, we will tear down the walls to find you." She turned her scathing glower on Aramis. "Touch one hair on her head and Paris will burn."
"They won't harm me," Emilie said with confidence. She turned to exchange farewells with her followers, who cheered her name in triumph.
Aramis waited to walk her back to the dragons. "I hope you're not afraid of flying," he said casually.
She looked excited and nervous but flashed him another beaming smile. "God has laid out my path."
He looked away.
They reached Rhaego and Aramis helped Emilie up into the saddle, then swung up behind her. He slipped an arm around her waist to hold her steady, and then they departed into the air. Fortunately, it was a short flight to the palace.
Emilie gazed around the Louvre in wonder. "Who would ever have thought a peasant girl could command the audience of the King?" she mused out loud.
Aramis helped her out of the saddle.
"What's he like?" she eagerly asked. "Is he tall? Witty? Handsome?"
"All of those things," he answered. "To a degree."
They entered the palace and made their way through the corridors.
"I know you came to destroy me, Aramis," Emilie said, reaching out to clasp his arm. "There's no shame in defeat. God was on my side."
"Your holy war can only end in misery and blood," he answered tiredly. "You really think that's what God wants?" He shook his head. "You should have stayed in Duras and lived an ordinary life."
"There is no ordinary life," she insisted. "Not for me."
Aramis put his hands on her shoulders, willing her to listen. "You've been deceived and deluded."
Emilie shook her head and moved away from him, only to pull up short at the dark hallway they found themselves outside of. "What is this?" She took a step back in fear, but Porthos and d'Artagnan moved in behind her to cut off a retreat.
Athos took her arm firmly and tugged her forward.
"No!" she yelled, shooting Aramis a look of betrayal. "Liar! Traitor!" she screamed, struggling against Athos's hold.
Aramis couldn't bring himself to step in and help restrain her, so Porthos did, and they started hauling Emilie down the passage toward the dungeons.
"My people will come to rescue me," she railed. "They will march on Paris!"
"I don't think so," Athos said blandly.
"God will intervene to free me!"
"Perhaps," Aramis said, entering an open cell. Constance was already there, having prepared the room for them. "But not in the way you mean."
"Judas!" she screeched as she was flung inside. She stumbled to catch herself and turned around, all the fire suddenly gone from her. "Oh, am I to be burned?" she asked fearfully. She dropped to her knees suddenly, facing the wall, and prayed, "Dear Lord, don't let them send me to the fire. I am not brave enough."
Aramis's heart gave a pang for her. He understood the terror she was facing, one that was fanned every night in her dreams.
But her circumstance was different than his had been, and as much as he wanted to help her, he didn't feel he was equipped for it.
"Emilie, please…" he tried.
She got to her feet and flashed him another betrayed glare.
"We want to help you," Constance put in.
"Your visions are from soup," Athos said bluntly. "Not God."
Aramis sighed.
"We think you've been drugged," Constance picked up. "Perhaps for a long time."
"Your mother's been poisoning you," Aramis added.
"My mother?" Emilie said skeptically. She shook her head. "My mother loves me. She would never hurt me. I don't believe you!"
And she'd have no reason to. Not until afterward…
"Athos will watch over you," Aramis said. "He has some experience in these matters."
The look of fear on Emilie's face tore at his heart, but Aramis knew, deep down, they were doing the right thing.
Even if it didn't quite feel like it.