Aramis
I've failed…
I can still hear her words, full of desperation and pride.
"I want to choose my fate. I have already decided to risk everything to bring this man to justice, otherwise I'll never feel safe in my kingdom. I've made my decision and even my love for you cannot change it, I am sorry, Aramis. I am truly sorry.".
The problem is that I understand her and yet I cannot accept the risk she's taking. Anne's right, I treat her differently than myself.
The musketeer sighed and carefully watched the crowd gathering in the Cathedral. It was impossible to identify those who were posing a threat towards the Queen. Aramis once more tried to guess Rochefort's plans. It seemed impossible to expect that he would come directly into their trap.
As far as the musketeer knew, the man who had tried to kill him had not contacted Treville, so they had no information about their enemy's plans. Aramis was quite sure that his would-be assassin had been killed, as he was no longer needed after performing his task.
Constance shifted near the marksman cautiously.
"How do you feel?", Aramis asked not turning his eyes from the interiori below him. He was aware that the young woman was still recovering from her wounds.
"I'm fine", she replied.
"What hurts?", the musketeer hissed in anguish. He was against her taking part in that madness but once again he understood why she wanted to. Afterall he still had not regained his strength and yet he was there with his musket. And a few other at his reach. Constance's role was to load the weapon.
"I mean I'm fine, maybe a little uncomfortable", she answered slightly amused, "It's not your "being fine" when you collapse only seconds after finishing the sentence."
"You talk too much with Porthos", he murmured still focused on the people below however grateful for the distraction. To say that the marksman had bad feelings was an understatement of the century; he was convinced that everything would go wrong but was not sure which dark scenario would come into life.
"I've had no opportunity to talk to d'Artagnan…", she whispered.
"I thought you've spent much time together recently", the Spaniard was quite surprised by the redhead's confession.
"He was at my side when I was sleeping most of the time. Afterwards, he needed to focus on his job. I guess Treville was lenient with him when my life was in danger but as you and Porthos were out of commision, d'Artagnan needed to lead the investigation and other things… and…", she hesitated, "Anne is in a bad condition. I could not ask for much time on my own…"
"I guess so, based on her decision…", he gestured towards the church beneath them.
Constance sighed.
"She hoped that speaking with you would have helped.", it was obvious that she knew that the Queen had come to him not exactly to talk to him but even here they had to be cautious.
"She seemed… relaxed. I had the impression that the talk has helped."
"Has it really helped you?", she asked, her tone careful as she was still afraid of overstepping.
"Yes and no", he replied quietly.
It was difficult to understand what this night spent together meant for him. She was the love of his life. Here the simple part finished. He did not deserve to hold her in his arms, he felt too damaged and defiled to make love with anyone, especially with her. Though in the meantime he understood that she felt the same and… he could not accept it. Aramis knew logically that if he treated her as worthy of his love, it meant the same for him. He knew it. But he could not feel it.
"What happened cannot be erased so easily… I don't believe it can be erased at all. Things like that damage a person beyond repair… I was struggling not to believe in it… in her case… but… the reality… doesn't want to become anything else…", the marksman sighed heavily. He was still a bit surprised by how freely he talked with Constance. The time they had spent recovering in the estate had made them really close. The musketeer was quite amazed how easily he had trusted the redhead and how open he had become towards her. Some topics they used to talk about never had he been ready to mention with Porthos though he trusted his brother with all his heart.
"Maybe is not about damage but about the change", she suggested hopefully.
Aramis glanced towards the other musketeers who had taken their positions in the church. Treville and Athos did their best to create a reliable defense.
Of a lost cause.
The best which could happen was the lack of any attack. Obviously it would not solve anything but also the Queen would avoid the great danger.
And the King.
The fact that Louis had come back to Paris had complicated things. He had accepted the plan and declared that he would protect his wife. Obviously nobody believed that he would manage to do anything useful with his decorative rapier but he was their King - they have sworn obedience to him. Even Milady seemed distressed by the whole situation. She persuaded his Majesty that she should not take her place among his courtiers. She had not explained that she would be in the Cathedral ready to protect her Lord…
And her husband.
Aramis had no doubt to whom belonged Milady's heart. The musketeer did not really believe it would work but he wished them the best.
Still nothing suspected… He's better than we've expected…
Aramis could sense the presence of his brothers hidden near the main altar.
They were ready… so they thought.
The explosion was muffled by thick walls. People in the church cast a glance towards the closed main door which should be open in the very moment the royal pair arrived. There was a rustle of building damaged fragments falling down.
Aramis jumped to his feet but Constance caught his hand.
"You've got a vantage point, here. And they'll probably seek shelter in the church."
He glanced at her shocked but she might be right.
When has this young woman learnt tactics?!
So he waited. His weapon trained at the door, his mind trying to subdue anguish filling his heart.
The time seemed to cease to exist but in the same moment it became eternity.
Constance's gasp alerted him. He did not realize that the redhead left her position in an almost futile attempt to look through a stained glass.
"What?", he hissed.
"I cannot discern clearly but there are many people lying on the street. I… I… don't see any fight….", there was concern and slowly building panic in her voice.
He landed on his knees near her to see for himself. He could not say who was who but the situation looked dire. The carriage in which should the royal pair travelled was lying on its side, the horses probably too injured to go into full panic as they were behaving truly too calm. It was obvious that nobody had remained inside.
The musketeer could not understand what had happened but the scene convinced him that the royal pair was in imminent danger.
"Stay here!", he hissed.
"No! I'm going with you! We're going to take the side exit, the one beneath us", she breathed.
"You've seen the plans", he stated, impressed.
"I've made Athos to show me the plans of the Cathedral", she explained.
Obviously she should not exert herself but Aramis was sure he could not make her to change her mind. She was fighting for her friend.
They took the narrow stone stairs and flew down with haste. Fortunately a few torches were casting their faint light so the passage was not in complete darkness. The stairs seemed to never end. Eventually Aramis pushed the little doors. The daylight hurt his eyes accustomed to the twilight. He started to run around the cathedral towards the main entrance, when Athos' shout stopped him.
"There!", the swordsman was probably severely wounded but he had not realized that yet. Blood was dripping from his far too pale face, his dilated pupils colored his blue eyes nearly black. Something was critically wrong with him.
"The horses are there! Their majesties had been taken, we must pursue them!", he gasped.
The marksman felt like he was falling or drowning. He could not be sure as the world reduced itself into the bleeding whirlpool around him. Aramis caught something which seemed to be only solid thing in this chaos of the worst possible futures manifesting themselves as shrads piercing his very soul.
His fingers were digging in Athos' arm, he realized somehow.
"We'll save them", he told his brother though he would swear he remained silent and motionless when they rushed towards the nearest stables. Had the horses been already saddled or did they do it - Aramis could not say. He realized that they were galloping through the large square in front of the monumental medieval building. Over the people lying on the pavement. Some of them were breathing but motionless otherwise and clearly unaware. The others could have been dead, as no were visible sign of life… The others were obviously wounden, caught in the explosion. The marksman nearly stopped his horse when he saw Treville lying in on the wheel of knocked-over royal carriage, his blood forming a pool beneath him.
But there was no time to check on him. The love and the sense of duty united for the once pulled the musketeer away.
The horses' hooves hit the bridge on the Seine as they were leaving Île de la Cité with its fallen behind in their wild chase.
A/N
I am still alive and writing! Thank you for reading and reviewing.
Merry Yule / Christmas and Happy New Year!