A/N: Thank you Undertheoaktrees, Deana, SnidgetHex, and pallysd'Artagnan for reviewing!
Chapter 4
Athos, Porthos, and d'Artagnan ushered Helen onto the palace grounds and into the palace, searching for the King. They were directed to one of the libraries where Louis was said to be in conference with their captain. Athos slowed his pace as they approached the doors, hearing raised voices inside.
"The trial was rushed and inadequate time given to investigate the case!" Treville was arguing.
There was a derisive scoff. "What is there to investigate when the proof is quite clear?"
Helen froze at the sound of the Cardinal's voice, eyes blowing wide in sheer terror.
"An immediate execution is most irregular, Your Majesty," Treville continued.
Now it was Athos's brows that rose in alarm. The trial had already taken place and Aramis been sentenced? Were they already too late?
"No, no, no," Porthos murmured, grabbing Helen's arm as she started to retreat. "You have to tell the King the truth!"
She shook her head frantically. "I can't! He'll have me killed."
"Stay here," Athos ordered and slipped into the library.
He strode straight to Treville, ignoring proper protocol by not even acknowledging the King, even going so far as to angle his back to his sovereign so he could whisper in Treville's ear.
"We have a witness that red guards committed the murder. She's afraid for her life."
"Captain?" Louis queried.
Treville straightened. "Your Majesty, my men have found new information, but the source requests an audience in private."
The Cardinal spread his arms. "We are alone. By all means, present this source."
"With all due respect, they will only speak to the King, as they are afraid of repercussions."
"From who?" Richelieu challenged.
"When it comes to conspiracy, one has cause to be cautious," Treville rejoined.
"Oh, fine," Louis said impatiently. "If you'll excuse us, Cardinal, I wish this business to be done with."
"Your Majesty," the Cardinal said petulantly. "Do not indulge such nonsense."
"If it is nonsense, then I won't waste your time with it," Louis replied airily. "I'm sure you have more important matters of state to attend to."
There was a pregnant pause. Athos saw the Cardinal's eye twitch. It took a beat too long for Richelieu to bow and accept the dismissal, time Athos keenly felt slipping through their fingers. The Cardinal turned and strode from the room, the doors closing behind him like the bang of a gong.
Athos immediately turned to retrieve Helen from the opposite antechamber, guiding her into the library to stand before the King. "Your Majesty, this woman was a maid in the murdered woman's house. She was there the night of the murder." Athos nodded to her. "Tell him what you told us."
Helen flicked a terrified look between them all and wrung her hands in her skirts.
"Speak freely," Louis prompted. "You have nothing to fear here."
She swallowed hard, then began to relay her story. Louis frowned as the information was laid out but didn't interrupt until she had finished.
"I commend you for your bravery," he said. "We will see that these men are punished accordingly."
She ducked her head in response.
Louis turned to Treville. "I will grant a pardon for the musketeer Aramis." He went over to a writing desk to retrieve some parchment and a quill to write out the order.
Athos was tense while they waited. Porthos and d'Artagnan kept fidgeting anxiously.
"And what happens to me now?" Helen whispered.
"We will make sure you are taken care of," Athos promised. He hadn't given any thought as to how yet; first things first. They had to save Aramis.
The King was still penning the official document when Cornet rushed in.
"Captain," he said breathlessly. "There's a disturbance at the Chatelet—it's Rhaego."
Athos closed his eyes in dismay as the others exchanged horrified looks. If anything could make a terrible situation worse, it was that dragon.
Louis stamped his seal on the pardon and handed it to the captain. "Treville, fix this mess," he warned.
Treville gave a short nod and they all hurried out. Kilgar was waiting outside and the captain went straight to jump into the saddle, leaving Athos, Porthos, and d'Artagnan to watch helplessly as he flew off. They could only pray the captain wouldn't be too late to save their brother.
.o.0.o.
Aramis watched in horror as Rhaego faced down an army of red guards, half of whom were priming their muskets to try shooting out the dragon's eyes. Rhaego snarled at them, his belly glowing but not unleashing his fire. His eyes were blazing with rage and Aramis could see him calculating how to bowl all these men down.
But even if Aramis broke free and took off with him, what then? If he escaped with Rhaego, they would both be hunted for the rest of their lives. Aramis didn't want to die, but the thought of living on the run, to never see his brothers again…he couldn't bear such an existence.
The guards were shooting now, most of the musket balls glancing off Rhaego's hide, but it was only a matter of odds before one struck him in the face.
"Rhaego, stop!" Aramis yelled.
But of course his dragon would never leave him.
A knee in his lower back kept Aramis on the floor. The crack of muskets continued to pierce the air. Above, Savron and Vrita circled the prison, screeching in turn. Aramis squeezed his eyes shut and begged God that no one else should be harmed on his account.
Then there was a whomp of wings and Aramis opened his eyes to see Captain Treville's dragon, Kilgar, swooping down and trying to find purchase on another part of the wall. The dragon roared at Rhaego, who instantly cowed, while Treville swung down with his anchor line to reach the ground.
"Stand down!" he bellowed. "By order of the King!" He held up a rolled piece of parchment in his hand, and Aramis's breath caught in his throat with treacherous hope.
The guards faltered as Treville crossed the courtyard. Kilgar was looming over Rhaego, who had lowered his head in submission and ceased his hostility. Treville jogged up the steps to the platform and shoved at the guards holding Aramis down. They moved back, finally allowing Aramis to sit up. Treville knelt quickly to cut his bonds.
"Thank you," he breathed.
"Your friends deserve the thanks," Treville replied, grasping his arm and hauling him to his feet.
Aramis couldn't help but quirk a small smile. He should have known.
"The King will hear about that vicious dragon!" one of the captains of the Red Guard yelled.
Aramis stiffened.
"He's already aware," Treville replied coolly. "No one was hurt, and that gallows was starting to look a little rotted anyway."
The captain's face flushed puce with rage.
"Go back to the garrison," Treville ordered Kilgar and Rhaego as he guided Aramis off the platform.
Rhaego looked like he didn't want to leave without Aramis, but Kilgar snapped his jaws at him, and the younger dragon reluctantly preceded the alpha into the air, leaving Aramis and Treville to make their way out on foot.
"He was just trying to protect me—"
"Fortunate he did, or we would have been too late," Treville said gravely. "I'll make sure there are no repercussions."
Aramis sighed in relief and nodded gratefully. "I take it this means you discovered what really happened?"
Treville nodded. "Athos, Porthos, and d'Artagnan found a servant in Madame Bessette's household who was there. It was some red guards, led by Captain Gaudet. I will put out a warrant for his arrest as soon as we return to the garrison."
"He was acting on behalf of the Cardinal," Aramis said coldly.
"That may be, but unless Gaudet is willing to say so, there is no evidence of that."
Aramis clenched his fists. He couldn't let Richelieu get away with Adele's murder.
"It would be crass of me to point out how dangerous your actions have been," Treville began in a careful tone. "And it can't change anything at this point. But you will not pursue this matter with the Cardinal."
Aramis bristled and pulled up short. "He had her murdered."
"Do you think she is the first?" Treville hissed back. "He failed to sully your name with this, but that does not mean you will not later find yourself in a dark alley with a knife in your back!" The Captain narrowed his eyes. "Watch yourself, Aramis. Do not make trouble with the Cardinal, for your sake and the sake of your brothers. The Cardinal is not above targeting them."
Aramis flinched at that, but he knew the truth of it. "What about justice?" he demanded.
"There may come a time when the Cardinal will face justice from the law," Treville said. "But it may also be that justice will only come from God. I trust that in your faith you can find a way to accept that."
It wasn't a question, yet Aramis lowered his gaze in concession. It burned him to do so, but he would not bring further harm to those he loved. As it was, Treville was right: he was still in danger of the Cardinal's vengeance.
They spent the rest of the trek to the garrison in silence.
"Aramis!" d'Artagnan exclaimed the moment they passed under the archway.
Aramis's dour mood was briefly quenched with joyous relief at the sight of his brothers coming toward him. He welcomed the embrace d'Artagnan immediately offered him, then turned to do the same with Porthos. Athos's demeanor was more reserved, but there was the barest of genuine smiles cracking that stoic facade.
"Thank you," Aramis said, sobering again. "Treville told me what you did. I'm grateful."
Porthos clapped him on the back. "You'd have done the same fer us."
"You already have," Athos added with a meaningful look.
Aramis nodded. The thing was that Athos wasn't guilty that time, and while Aramis hadn't been the one to murder Adele, he still bore some of the guilt for bringing it upon her.
He looked past his friends to where his dragon was sitting tautly in the yard, looking agitated but holding himself in check under Kilgar's domineering glare. Aramis walked over and reached out to lay a hand upon Rhaego's neck.
"You shouldn't have done that," he said quietly.
Rhaego jabbed his nose into Aramis's chest, expression scowling.
Aramis sighed at his dragon's undying loyalty, and the loyalty of his brothers.
He didn't feel like he deserved it.
.o.0.o.
Athos and Savron flew over the countryside of northern France. Athos had a secure arm braced around Helen where she sat in front of him, shaking like a leaf and gripping the pommels of the saddle in a white-knuckled grip. Fortunately, their destination wasn't far by dragon flight.
Savron glided down to land in a field outside the village of Pinon. Athos unhooked the anchor lines and dismounted, then helped Helen from the saddle.
"The village is small and modest," he said. "But the people are good and they will make a place for you. No one from Paris will think to look for you here."
"Thank you," she said quietly.
Athos knew it would be an adjustment for her, but at least she would be safe. He pulled out a folded letter from his coat and handed it to her. "Give this to the mayor of Pinon." Bertrand would honor the former Comte's request to take Helen in.
The maidservant nodded, clutching the letter to her chest, and began making her way toward the collection of houses. Athos watched her walk into the village, then he mounted up on Savron again and the two headed back to Paris.
.o.0.o.
It had been a fraught and exhausting day, culminating in a disappointing discovery when the Musketeers had gone to arrest Gaudet. They'd found him alright—face down on the floor of his apartments reeking of poison. There would be no confession from him, no naming of his accomplices…or his co-conspirator.
The Cardinal was very cunning when it came to cleaning up loose ends. And that made Porthos both furious and worried, because Aramis was now cleared of charges, but that didn't make him safe.
He hadn't gone with them on the arrest, nor was he waiting in the garrison yard for their return. Porthos headed for his room in the barracks, d'Artagnan a silent shadow trailing behind. He knocked on Aramis's door and received a muffled response. Porthos let himself in.
Aramis was sitting at the small round table by the window, nursing a cup of wine. "Did you find him?" he asked.
"Yeah, but the Cardinal had already gotten to 'im," Porthos replied regretfully. "He's dead."
Aramis leaned back in his chair and ran a hand over his curls. "Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord," he murmured softly.
"We'll find a way," Porthos vowed.
"No." Aramis shook his head. "The Cardinal is too powerful. We're better off leaving well enough alone."
Porthos exchanged a surprised look with d'Artagnan; that wasn't like Aramis at all. "He could still come after you," he protested.
Aramis knocked back a swig of wine. "He's welcome to try," he muttered bitterly.
Porthos eyed him for a moment, then sighed in understanding. "You loved her."
His friend's eyes grew wet and he nodded. "And she's dead because of me."
"She's dead because she got in bed wit' the Cardinal. Happens to most who do that," Porthos pointed out as gently—though perhaps not tactfully—as he could. "That ain't on you."
"If I had stayed away…"
"You made her happy," d'Artagnan offered. "That's worth something."
Aramis didn't say anything to that, just gazed down morosely into the depths of his cup.
"Do you know when the funeral is?" Porthos asked.
"No."
"You wanna go find out?"
Aramis looked up at him, eyes still wavering with a myriad of anguished emotions. He then seemed to collect himself, shuttering them all, and nodded. "Yes."
He stood and donned his coat that they'd returned to him earlier, and the three of them headed out to the mausoleum. It was late, but the body of the recently passed would be available for vigil before the internment. Porthos doubted the Cardinal would bother with that.
They entered the stately house of tombs and were greeted by a priest making his rounds.
"We're here to pay our respects to Adele Bessette," Porthos spoke for them.
The priest's brows furrowed. "Madame Bessette has already been laid to rest."
"What?" Aramis blurted.
The priest nodded and beckoned for them to follow him. He led them down into the catacombs and into one of the many crypts installed there. Remaining outside the wrought iron gate, he gestured to the back wall.
Aramis entered first, slowly, eyes finding a recently engraved plaque.
"Adele Bessette. Died For Love."
Aramis pressed a fist to his mouth and braced his other arm against the wall.
"Would you excuse us?" d'Artagnan quietly asked the priest.
The man nodded and left.
"I'll kill 'im," Porthos growled. "One o' these days."
"I think we need to have a serious conversation about Aramis's safety," d'Artagnan said gravely.
"No," Aramis replied. "The Cardinal won't come after me."
"How can you be so sure?" Porthos demanded.
Aramis moved his arm to trace his hand down Adele's plaque. "This." His chest hitched and he bowed his head. "He still won, and he'll let me live with the guilt of this."
Porthos shared a look with d'Artagnan. He wasn't sure he believed that. But then again, that did sound like something that evil bastard would do.
They stood in silence for a few more minutes, giving Aramis some time to mourn. Then Porthos moved closer and settled a hand on his friend's shoulder.
"Come on."
Aramis wordlessly let himself be led away from the tomb.
.o.0.o.
It was very late when d'Artagnan finally made it home. After their visit to the crypt, they'd gone back to Aramis's rooms to drink. Though there hadn't been that much drinking going on. Aramis wasn't like Athos who preferred to drown every single sorrow—and himself—in wine. He'd probably only knocked back two cups, and that was over the course of a couple hours. Porthos had eventually given d'Artagnan a subtle nod that he should head home and Porthos would stay.
There was a single candle lit inside the Bonacieux home, probably left for him. So he was surprised when Constance called out his name from the opposite direction.
"D'Artagnan!"
He turned to see her running toward him across the yard.
"I didn't think you'd make it back in time," she gushed, grabbing his arm. "It's happening!"
He quirked a confused brow for a split second before his heart gave a jolt, and then he was quickening his pace to keep up with her as she ushered him toward the nursery. Jean was inside next to the nest, watching the egg intently as it twitched.
The exhaustion that had been dogging d'Artagnan all day evaporated with a surge of ecstatic excitement. The three of them gathered around the egg, watching with bated breath as a tiny crack appeared in the top of the shell. The egg vibrated some more, and the split widened. A chip fell off.
D'Artagnan held his breath as a tiny pale nose poked its way out into the world for the first time…
A/N: Don't worry, I wouldn't skip over the baby dragon hatching. We'll pick up with that at the start of the next episode. ;)
NEXT TIME
When General de Foix comes to Treville for help rescuing his sister from the Spanish, Treville cannot refuse. But they might find themselves in need of their own rescue.