Notes:

I know it's been so long since the last chapter…. So much happened to me I graduated, found a job, got heartbroken and this is the start for my future. Now enough about me, let's see How Aramis reacts to this compulsive promotion! Comments are soooo Welcome, tell me what you think or if you like this or not!

#Departure – Saying Goodbye!

Despite the storm inside, the door closed behind him softly. Aramis pressed his shoulders to the door, rested his head, and closed his eyes. For almost a minute, he simply breathed, and then just like a puppet whose strings were cut one by one, he slid down. It's been a few hours since the king has promoted the inseparables or, better to say, promoted his three brothers and doomed Aramis. Out of four brothers, the other three were surrounded by their loved ones, nobles, and comrades who congratulated them on their fine lives from now on with shared joy over a glass of fine wine provided by the king. At the same time, a whole mess of failed missions and war plans were thrown directly on Aramis' head. Aramis tried to be like a leader, but the shock of the king's decision was hard on him, and the lack of his brothers' support harder to bear. So, he merely left the palace when he found the chance.

Unlike what others thought, Aramis was neither naive nor led by his cock. He was merely a man led by his heart more than by logic and mind. And now, not only his mind but also his heart told him that he was cursed. And once again, like the four years he was away, or even the last year he got back, he was all on his own. All he could do was breathe deep just to keep the monsters of grudge and stubborn tears at bay.

A knock on the door made him sit straight. A few more deep breaths, and he stood. He was about to open the door when a thought flashed in his mind. If the king wanted to break him, he would not break easily. Since he now should live this bitter adventure alone, he would show his resilient, carefree self to the whole world, even his brothers. Aramis' battle this time is between the king and himself; no matter if Aramis dies in this battle, he will not lose his last battle.

Aramis took his time to straighten his doublet and adjust his hat on his head in the mirror and then opened the door. The king's man servant was standing there, fist raised in a gesture to knock again. Aramis arched his brow in a gesture of waiting. The servant turned his gaze down, bowed, stuttered several times, and then started.

"The king wishes to see you in private."

"I'll be there." With this, Aramis tried to close the door but levering his hand. The man stopped him.

"I'm sorry, captain, but he expects you to come with me now!"

Aramis looked the man in the eye and then from head to toe. All the while, aware of the unease the man was in and then muttered coldly.

"Then, you shall wait!"

He banged the door to the man's face. This attitude was not his, but it would do him good if he made a reputation that would travel faster than himself. He will have to deal with the worst French soldiers if the reports are accurate.

Out of the drawer near the bed, Aramis rolled a kit out. He took the razor blade and did one of the things he didn't do since he left for the monastery. He trimmed his facial hair better than any time before. Then he changed to the best of his clothes. He finished and adjusted his looks by just turning the ends of his mustache upward in the mirror.

He followed the footman not into the king's chambers but to the throne room, where only the king was present. King Louis was sitting proudly on his thrown drinking wine with shining eyes and smirking lips.

And Aramis bowed as the usual, not too low; it was only the God deserving this humble action, but low enough not to be considered disrespect.

The king waited for the doors to be closed, then he stood, picked up another cup of wine, and walked to Aramis, offering him the wine.

"Be my guest, Captain!" said the king.

Aramis raised his hand to accept the offer, only for the king to turn the cup to let the red liquid splash to the floor drop by drop and let his smile stretch wider.

"I hope you enjoy the wine just as much I do!" with that, king Louis turned toward his thrown.

Aramis held his chin high and retorted with a hint of sarcasm on his face. "Well, I would have if I hadn't been a dying man."

The king focused his anger on his fingers to squeeze the cup and growled through gritted teeth. "Don't worry about that, captain; you'll probably die sooner than me."

Aramis smiled sadly and lowered his head to answer. "My only sanctuary is that my loyal brothers would honor my memory and remember me well!"

Louis put his cup down with more force than intended and quickly rose. Of course, the former musketeer had his brothers in arms, loyal, unlike his blood brothers. He tried to calm his roaring blood and find more stinging words to throw back.

"Indeed, but not by your son!"

The hurt and shock evident on the soldier's face were satisfactory enough to calm the king's nerves and make him enjoy this moment even more than when he sentenced him in front of everyone. This time the scar was fatal, so the king need not stay a moment longer, yet he wanted to cut deeper.

Louis stopped near a still shocked Aramis to state. "I just wanted to tell you about the fate of other commanders of your army so far! Hmm… let's see, general le Roux was beheaded by the Spanish once the army turned him over!"

He poured another cup of wine for himself while he continued. "Captain Weiss did scape and desert after only one week! And the last man I sent, general de Moulin or de Monier or something, I can't remember clearly, for he was a traitor to me too," he gave a pointed look to Aramis and went on. "But of course, in another manner, was killed the very first night!" The king took a sip of his wine and stepped closer to Aramis, whispering, "I wonder how long would you last!"

Aramis tried to peer away all the coldness and chains around his heart and mind and then spoke, "I will last long enough to be a consistent memory for the future commanders and monarch of France!" Aramis decided this was the end of their conversation, so he dipped his head and spoke again to the king, gritting his jaws and eyes as if a wild animal wanted to tear apart its prey. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a ball to attend, which is held to honor me by our gracious king!" He turned to leave the room.

By the time he reached the door, the king's voice had come trembling and pitched high with anger. "You shall leave at sunrise."

Sylvie watched her lover among his friends and patted her stomach, feeling the soft silk underneath her fingers. The new dress was a gift from the queen that made her wonder about the true nature of nobility she was used to. Deep in her thought was she when a hand came to rest on her small back. She turned her head and saw Aramis standing beside her. There was something different about him that she didn't know yet. Sylvie turned fully to him with frowned brows.

"What?!" he asked with a chuckle. "Don't look at me like this; I like that bright shine in there better!"

The frown deepened. "What bright shine?!"

"The way your eyes are bright when you look at Athos and imagine yourself to be a mother, the mother of his child. You know that you're the sun in Athos' previous gloomy life, right?" a wink followed his sentences, and Sylvie fought hard not to chuckle with glee; she was already making a full teeth smile. She tried to regain his features by being a bit sarcastic. "Are you in your poet mood now?"

"Did Athos tell you that? There was a time or two when he asked for a love note!" another wink. And this time, a forceful punch from Sylvie. "Athos may not be good at love chats like you, but it seems you can never beat him," a sly smile curled her lips upward, "not just in a sword fight but in matters of heart, too!" Not that we ever had the chance to finish a sword fight properly before; it was constantly interrupted; as for love, I'm happy I can still deceive. Aramis didn't let any of his thoughts show on his face. He just pretends to be hurt and ends the matter with, "As I said before strange choice!" Sylvie smirked but said nothing. A couple of minutes passed in silence, and Sylvie was becoming nervous. The situation was like standing next to a complete stranger with who you just chatted out of boredom, but you didn't know the person, really, and it was never like this with Aramis and never would be, or at least it was what she thought. Aramis was her friend; actually, he is! Also, he's his lover's brother. She heard the term so many times from Athos. He's always the kind you can open your heart and mind free to. Something was off, and she was about to make a query, but Aramis beat her to speak.

"Athos….umm….how can I put it? Athos is always like, he's hiding something, and he is. Sometimes it's just the fear of losing you, and other times it could be the burden of some unrevealed secret that can break all hell loose!" Aramis smiled tenderly, and his eyes seemed lost for a moment before continuing.

"But at the same time, he doesn't want others to keep secrets from him, it makes him feel betrayed, and he always says that it's suicidal! So, I beg you, Sylvie, trust him, please, all the time, but never leave him on his own because he may die or end up laying drunk in the gutter." Sylvie was rendered speechless. No one ever talked to her like that. This was like one of those talks her parents would say about how to keep a husband for eternity. Yet, she never expected such a serious tone from Aramis out of everyone.

"Excuse me, are you Aramis?" the soft chuckle that left the man was mirthless. He didn't say anything; however, he knelt on one knee in front of her, took a small bundle out of his coat, and spoke directly to her belly.

"Hello there, little one; I'm your uncle Aramis. I know your mother expects you to be a girl, but I think you're a boy. Know this, my dear; your father is Athos, the greatest swordsman of his time, and you're going to be as just great and fearless, if not more. I may not be here for your birth, but I'm already delivering your gift to your mother. When the time comes and if I'll be still around, you get a real one from me!" Aramis bent and kissed her belly softly. He rose and gave the bundle to Sylvie with a finger pointing to her stomach, where her baby was safe. "I made this for him, and I hope it'll be the right size." He leaned forward as if to kiss her lips and made her eyes get rounded but kissed her cheek quickly instead. Then he departed with a wink and a mischievous smile that reminded only one thing in Sylvie's mind. He repaid her deception to get free; just on that night, the musketeers caught her on charges of betrayal. She opened the bundle, and her eyes glistened at the sight of a well-crafted rapier. A small wooden rapier.

It started ten minutes ago, and Marie-Cassette was wailing non-stop. Elodie found a quiet enough place and far enough from the hall to calm her baby but to no end.

"Oh, you little doll, you're quite a restive handful. Aren't ya?"

She felt a presence rather than see it, then she heard. "You could have asked for help, you know?!" She laughed shyly. "Well, it looked like Porthos was having a great time, and I'd hate myself for getting him out of it," Aramis replied with a smile. "Although the father is the best help you can get, you could ask any of us, may I?" He had stretched his arms toward Marie, waiting patiently for her assent. She was so tired of holding her restless baby that she accepted his offer readily but couldn't get past his words that easily. From the moment she left the village for Paris, the thought of Bernard was marching in her head. When she took Porthos on his marriage offer, that marching thought turned to guilt. Bernard was her long-lost husband; Bernard was the one who should have been her child's father; Bernard should have been here for them. She tried but couldn't stifle her tears and sorrow. She totally forgot other beings nearby as tears wet her cheeks until Aramis spoke and Elodie realized no wailing sound was in the background.

"Porthos may not be Marie's father in blood, but I knew him for twelve years now, and he is the best father to all children, and he would not differ between anyone of any sort and rank." Aramis now had Elodie's full attention and thought to lighten the mood a bit before he could continue. "Believe it or not, I called him father once or twice." He finished with a smirk, and Elodie laughed. It took her only moments to realize Mary was silent and sucking her little pink thumb in her mouth with closed eyes relaxing through a hollow mumbling melody. It was Aramis singing quietly but directly to her baby's ear and resting her little head on his shoulder so easily that she imagined it was just a doll instead of a wailing child. Aramis looked into Elodie's eyes, raised his brows, and whispered with a smirk. "It's a gift."

A few minutes later, they had settled on a settee in the far corner of the ball, both sipping some kind of drink and watching the crowd while little Mary slept in oblivion to all the commotion of the party. It was again Aramis who started to talk first. "Give him time and opportunity; Porthos has a big heart and things on his mind that you never think he would ever get." He sipped some more and continued, "He sometimes speaks without thinking and makes the worst joke at the worst time that you want to take off his head." Elodie was watching Aramis with amusement now; it seemed Aramis was lost in a long-gone memory, but he went on. "In times like this, ignore him, and he'll make it up to you in a way you believe impossible from the same moron before!" He smirked and looked past all the faces in the hall, somewhere invisible, then turned to Elodie abruptly. "He will make YOU the happiest woman and your children the luckiest ever. He'll seek you whenever you need him." He took a long breath before his last words. "Give me this credit and trust him." The last phrase was an honest plea that Elodie agreed with so readily in her heart, but Aramis was gone before she could promise that she will. The sound of steps made her turn his head to the other side, but it was Porthos, not Aramis this time.

"Did you run from me?" He said with a wide grin, and almost instantly, something like regret flashed in his eyes. Elodie realized this was precisely what Aramis was talking about, so she smiled mischievously and replied, "maybe, but it was Mary who took me away from you!" Porthos' eyes lit again, and he tried to get the baby in his own arms, "oh, so it was little Mary's fault, ha?" This sudden change in Mary's humanly bed caused her to wake up wailing. Porthos and Elodie looked at each other, then they laughed.