The Secret, Chapter 5
Aramis' fever broke near dawn. He began to stir as the light filtered into the bedroom. Athos leaned forward in the chair he occupied next to the bed. Aramis slowly opened his eyes to meet the blue gaze of his brother crowning a broad grin.
"We were wondering when you'd finally join us," said Athos quietly, "But we know how insistent you are about getting your beauty rest."
Aramis grinned and then looked around the room. D'Artagnan was curled up in a winged armchair by the fire while Porthos was draped over the settee. Christine was in the chair across from Athos, her head resting on her arms upon the bed where she had finally surrendered to sleep. Her outstretched fingers still barely grazing Aramis' hand. The look on Aramis' when he saw her was one of sheer joy.
Athos grinned as he looked at his brother looking at his oldest friend as she slept and his heart felt full for the first time in years.
"She hasn't left your side," He said. "She was the one who saved you. She removed the bullet from your chest and coaxed you through the fever that followed."
"Fever?" asked Aramis. Storm clouds gathered in his eyes as some memory of his nightmare returned. "I dreamt I was back there...back in Savoy," he said, bringing his hand to his head and running it through his hair.
Athos sighed and nodded, and looked at Christine.
Aramis stopped; panic flashed into his eyes. Christine shifted slightly in her sleep and Aramis gasped when he could suddenly see the violent lines that his fingers had left around her throat.
"What happened?" he said urgently. "What did I do?" his voice echoed like the voice of the dead.
Christine was roused by the sound.
"Aramis," she said breathlessly as she registered his tear-filled eyes looking at her. "You're awake!" she said. Athos quietly stepped back and away from the bed to join Porthos and D'Artagnan by the fireplace.
"I must be in heaven," replied the marksman with a tearful smile, "for there is no way a mere mortal can look as beautiful as you do right now." She laughed, tears falling from her eyes.
"I think you must still be feverish," she said as she shifted and sat on the mattress. He cupped her face in his right hand and brushed the tears from her cheek with his thumb.
"Believe me, love, I have never seen something more beautiful in my life."
"Nor I," she said and beamed at him.
His hand dropped from her face to lightly brush her neck. His eyes grew darker and pain shot to them once more. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, his fingers barely daring to touch her.
"It's okay," she whispered pulling his hand to her chest so it covered her heart. "I know now. It wasn't you. You came back to me."
Aramis coughed out a laugh, his own tears running down his face now.
"I didn't know how to tell you," he said. "Savoy...what happened there...it almost destroyed me. It damaged me in ways that I don't think I'll ever recover from. I didn't want to have to. You shouldn't have to bear this burden too. I can't imagine what you must think of me."
Her eyes found his as she responded. "What I think of you? I think you are a man who has suffered far more than he should have ever had to. I think you are brave and passionate and stronger than any man I have met," she said with passion, her eyes boring into his. "This was not your fault. It's over now. I promise, I will help you carry whatever burden might be yours. I love you Aramis. You came back to me."
"But Christine," he said, "I hurt you." It was impossible for him to sound more miserable and frightened.
She squeezed his hand tightly. "That wasn't you. You wouldn't hurt me. You got lost in a nightmare but you came back. You came back to me." She beamed at him amid tears of joy and leant forward to kiss him.
"Always," he promised her. "I will always come back to you," he said as he pulled her across his body and into the space next to him, and kissed her, all gunshot wounds forgotten.
oOo
A few days later when Aramis returned to light duty, he smiled as he saw Christine enter the garrison.
"Well this is a nice surprise," he said. "Are you coming to see me?"
"Normally yes," she said with a smile as she winked at Porthos and D'Artagnan who were all gathered at their regular table at the base of the stairs. "This time, however, I've received an invitation from the Captain,' she said.
"Well, you best not keep him waiting," said Aramis, and offering her his arm, he led her up the stairs to the Captain's office, the others following in tow.
When they reached the door, Aramis knocked twice.
"Come in," came Treville's voice across the threshold. Aramis opened the door and led the way inside. Athos was standing at attention in front of Treville. Aramis released her arm and fell in line with Porthos and D'Artagnan. She looked at the men quizzically.
"I received you summons, Captain," she said to the most senior musketeer and war hero.
"Yes, thank you Comtesse, for agreeing to meet with me," he replied.
"The pleasure is mine," she said, "But I'm not sure why I'm owed it," she said bluntly.
Treville grinned. He liked a woman who spoke her mind.
"I have just had a report from my lieutenant detailing the service that you provided to the Crown and to my Musketeers recently." Christine blushed.
"It was no service, sir. It was what any person would do –"
"Yet I hear you did what many could not. You thought clearly and rationally and stayed focused in extreme hardship. You did not hesitate to act and solved problems calmly as they arose. You kept faith but made no promises. You saved a man's life and were able to make hard decisions even when it was the life of someone you loved hanging in the balance. Most importantly of all, you saw your duty through to its end to ensure its success at what I'm sure was a strain and a sacrifice to you," said Treville.
"Please, Captain," Christine began. "This was a specific incident…"
"Do you mean to tell me you would have acted differently if it was Athos or D'Artagnan on your table? Or a nameless boy from the market? An old man in off the streets?"
Christine looked at the ground for just a moment, then raised her head defiantly and said, "No, sir."
Treville smiled. "I didn't think so. Which is why you have been recommended to me to take up the role of the garrison's in-house medic."
A stunned silence followed this pronouncement.
"Sir," said Christine, not breaking eye contact with the Captain, "I'm honoured, but his majesty will never permit it. I'm not formally trained, sir. All I know, I learned through practice and from books."
"Which is more than any of my other medics can boast of. Of course, a physician would be called should the need require, and your role here would not interfere with your responsibilities at court, but it would provide you with a vocation outside of court and would allow you to expand upon and improve your medical knowledge through practise. Besides, you would be doing a great service to your King and country."
"Yes," Christine said, smiling now at the Captain, "But the King will never allow it."
"No," said Treville, the gleam in his eyes matching that of the Comtesse, "But the Queen will, and I think in this instance the King will do as the Queen suggests. In fact he already has. The position is yours should you choose to accept it."
"Thank you, sir, I'm honoured. Yes, I accept," she said with a curtsey, catching Treville off guard.
"Well then, Mademoiselle Christine, La Comtesse des Etoilles, welcome to the King's Musketeers."
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A/N: Thanks for reading the second instalment in this series. Taking a slight departure from Christine and Aramis to work on a more regular story I've got floating around my desktop, but I may try working both at once! We'll see! I'd love to hear from you if you've got any ideas about where I should take this!