What Love Is Worth, Ch. 12
The ball was exquisite.
D'Artagnan danced with the old chef Cookie, much to the chagrin of some of the younger ladies assembled.
Athos waltzed exceptionally with Claudine standing on both of his feet.
Porthos had joined a card game, and for once was not cheating, but drinking and laughing loudly with the good villagers assembled, the beautiful Marguerite at his side.
Aramis leaned against the wall chatting with John and some of the other men and smiled each time Christine whirled by in the arms of the Butcher. Before long, Aramis was apprehended by the Butcher's wife, and laughing, she whisked him onto the dance floor.
When the song finally ended, Christine collapsed in the vacant seat next to Marie, joined swiftly by D'Artgnan. Athos joined Aramis and John by the wall, while Claudine went to find Thomas to pester.
Once again Monsieur Laval stood before the dais, striking his goblet with a spoon.
"The time has come, my friends, to crown our Spring King and Queen!" he cried to tumultuous applause.
"Firstly, our king," he said pausing for dramatic effect. "This year's king has proven himself to be an invaluable asset to this community. His assistance in the preparation for this year's harvest was second to none, and we certainly hope he brings some friends of equal measure to assist in the next one!" he said as the townspeople laughed. "For our king, the people have chosen Aramis, of the King's Musketeers!" The room burst into applause. Athos shoved Aramis forward where, embarrassed, he knelt as an exquisite chain of flowers was hung around his neck.
"Now, for our queen, we have decided to break from tradition. We would have no one better represent us in any court than our beautiful Christine, the Comtesse des Etoiles." Once again, applause erupted and Porthos' whistle again cut through the din.
"As your host, I can't be, I'm supposed to be disqualified," she protested as D'Artagnan and Marie pulled her forward.
"Would you deny your people?" called Monsieur Laval, eyebrows wriggling in a joking manner.
"Never!" she called back and curtsied low as a crown of similar flowers was placed upon her head.
"We now invite our King and Queen to share their first ceremonial dance."
The room stilled as Aramis and Christine gazed at each other, both cheeks flushed with an eagerness and apprehension. He bowed to her and she curtsied to him. He held out his hand to her and she took it in hers. She lifted her skirt with the other hand as he pulled her close placing his hand upon her back. They breathed each other in, suddenly seeing nothing but the other. The music began and they slowly began to waltz. There was nothing else; the room and its people disappeared. There was only him and her, the music and each other's eyes.
"It's like a fairy tale," Marguerite whispered to Porthos who hastily wiped a traitorous tear from his eye.
"They're like the Princess and the Knight!" Claudine gushed. Thomas sighed and laid his head on his arms with a smile on his lips as he watched them dancing.
"Beautiful," sobbed Cookie.
They waltz could have lasted centuries as they held each other and turned about the room.
She smiled at him serenely, gazing up at him from beneath the curtain of her eyelashes as he led her off the floor and away from the people towards the terrace. He was dimly aware of others assuming their spots on the dance floor in their quest for the terrace, but it didn't matter.
For him there was only her. She was all that mattered. And he knew that it would be that way for him for the rest of his life.
oOo
"You look very handsome tonight," Christine said softly as they stepped out onto the terrace. "I believe the entire village has fallen in love with you. They couldn't take their eyes off you..." The lake in the distance sparkled in the moonlight.
"It wasn't me they were staring at, my love," said Aramis stopping. He still held her hand in his, so she turned to face him. "And it's not their love that I need, that I'm yearning for," he said, his voice barely a whisper.
"Aramis," she said, her eyes growing soft and scared.
"Please Christine, I need to say this," he replied. He led them to a bench and taking both of her hands in his, he spoke from his heart, laying everything on the line. "Christine, my darling Christine, you must know by now how much I love you and how much I adore you, entirely. You are the sun that lights my life. I love your laughter, your smile, your passion, your fire, your anger, your compassion, every facet, every fibre of you. But all of this means nothing, if you do not love me in return," he said. Christine's eyes had filled with tears, but she held on as he continued. "The things I said in Paris…you must understand how foolish I was. I hurt you. I know, and for that i will never forgive myself...I nearly killed myself in the process, but at the time, I thought that I was acting only in your best interest. I was so wrong. I have spent my time here trying, praying to earn your love back," he said his eyes burning into hers.
"When we kiss, when we touch – my god Christine – when I look into your eyes or catch a glimpse of your smile…I know you can feel the fire that's there." Christine held her breath.
"Please my love, I cannot go on much longer and not know for sure. You are all I need to survive in this world – just your love. I swore to you that if you didn't love me as I love you, I would leave and you would never hear from me again, and to this vow I hold," said Aramis, his voice straining under the emotional toll. "Please my love, please. I need to know, I need to know that hope is not lost. Tell me Christine, please, do you love me?"
She looked into his dark eyes and her heart smoldered in her chest. The pain was so strong that tears began to fall. She had to look away from him.
"It's not that simple," she whispered.
"Yes my darling, yes it is!" he cried. "If you love me, there is nothing, NOTHING that we can't accomplish."
"Please Aramis, we don't need to discuss this now," she pleaded, paling at the sight of his tear lined face.
"Yes my love, we do. If you say you don't love me, I will leave, I swear it. But if you do, I need to know. Please Christine, please. Tell me. Please. Do you love me as I love you?"
Again she looked at him, his dark eyes staring deeply into her grey ones.
"Yes," she whispered, "Yes. Of course I love you, Aramis. I have never loved anyone the way that I loved you...the way I still love you..." Aramis' face alighted at her words, but she continued speaking. "That terrible night when you said those things, that night at the biennale - I thought I would die. I fled Paris, a city where once I felt only joy; suddenly every brick, every street corner screamed your name and i couldn't bear it. i wasn't strong enough. I was weak. I lost track of everything. I had to flee. And then when I saw you, when you rode in here, I knew in that moment, after the hurt, after everything, that I still loved you just the same," she said, tears continuing to fall. "I have been in torment since you've been here, trying to figure out what to do," she said reaching forward and taking his face in her hands. "I love you Aramis, I do, but I can't," she said.
She stood suddenly. She couldn't look at him; it hurt too much. Her head and her heart were both throbbing. "I can't love you. I have a duty to my people. How can I give my heart to you and them? I can't risk falling apart again. When I lost you, I lost myself. I cared for nothing. I couldn't focus; I retreated. If I were to lose you again...I cannot afford to risk that again."
Aramis leapt to his feat. His words, urgent and desperate, "Christine, I swear it, I will never hurt you again. If you love me Christine, nothing else matters. Nothing. Just say you love me. Tell me to stay," he said and he pulled her back, stopping her retreat.
He placed his hand on her neck, once more entwining his fingers in her hair. They stared deeply into each other's tear-filled eyes. And then he kissed her. And she kissed him. They embraced, pouring all the love, pain, confusion and desperation they felt into that kiss. They never wanted it to end…
"Mistress, I'm sorry," said Marie from the terrace door, flanked by the other musketeers. "I'm so sorry, but your guests are leaving…"
Christine had her eyes closed as he dropped his forehead to press against hers. She took a deep, shaky breath and stepped away from him. "I have to do my duty," she said miserably and left the terrace.
Aramis stood frozen there, his back to his brothers.
Porthos stepped forward and put his hand on his brother's shoulder. "What happened?" he asked cautiously.
Aramis turned to face him. He smiled slowly, his eyes still wrought with tears.
"She said she loves me," he said smiling sadly.
"That's great!" said Porthos, thumping him on the back.
He smiled again and shook his head. "I hurt her. I don't think I knew how badly until just now. She says the she is not sure she can risk that again for her people. She has to think of her duty."
"But you're smiling," said D'Artagnan, confused.
"She loves me," he responded, "so I have hope."
oOo
He sat at the table in the study and watched the bottom of her bedroom door. He could hear her restlessness. He hung his coat over the back of his chair and turned the pages of Le Morte D'Arthur. The words of love and chivalry leapt from the page as though they were written just for him, but he barely registered them. His sole focus was on her.
Her door opened, slowly and cautiously. Aramis rose and went to her.
"Christine," he began, but she raised her hand and stopped him.
She was distraught; it was obvious. She pulled her lavender dressing gown closer around her shoulders.
"Please," she said. "Please stop."
"What is it?" he asked desperately, grasping her hand, "please tell me. Tell me what I can do. Tell me what you need, what you want."
"I don't know!" she said, her voice trembling, "I don't want to talk, I don't want to think anymore!"
"Then what do you want?" he asked.
"You," she said weakly. "I just want you. That's all I've ever wanted. Just you."
Before she could draw breath he had taken her in his arms, kissing her like he'd been dreaming about since he'd arrived. She kissed him back, the buttons flying as she pulled at his shirt. Hungrily his mouth found hers again as he pulled the dressing gown from her shoulders, the light material of her chemise was the only thing between her breast and his.
Her hand was in his hair, pulling him closer to her, desperate to absorb as much of the man she loved as she could. He matched her in every embrace, every desperate kiss. She needed him, and he needed her. They both needed the comfort that they had only found in each other. She pulled him into her bedroom. They jostled the boudoir knocking the brilliant vase of flowers to the floor as he guided her to the bed.
oOo
Christine sat there in the chair as she watched him sleep. He looked so peaceful and beautiful she felt her heart aching once again as she looked upon him in the dim early morning light.
Silently she crept from the room.