Chapter XV

Porthos's injuries were not too bad after all. He simply needed to rest, which he happily did. Elise sacrificed some alcohol to clean the wound on d'Artagnan's head. He cringed, but knew better than to complain. The only one in a rather bad shape was Aramis, even though he seemed perfectly content to have the young girl tend to his bruised face. He had the clever idea to take off his uniform and wash away most of the blood before presenting himself to the room they used as an infirmary.

Elise could not help but be a little rough with him. She was upset.

"Do you do this often? Starting fights and coming back looking like a wreck?"

"To be completely fair, I was not the one who started it. Porthos did."

"It does not matter. Have you seen your face?"

"It's been worse. Trust me, Elise. This is routine for me."

"But not for me, Aramis. How am I supposed to feel about this? Am I supposed to turn a blind eye when you come back drunk and beaten? What is so funny?" He was grinning and among all the bruises, it made him look a little out of his mind.

"You." He grabbed her arm and sat her down on his lap. "I've hardly ever had anyone caring so much for me. It's a nice change." She continued to dab the wet cloth to his face, but she had to smile. It was difficult to stay mad at him for long.

"Everyone's safe, then?"

"Yes, according to d'Artagnan. The Dauphin seems out of danger."

"You're relieved."

"I am."

"I did tell you that God would listen to your prayers. He could not possibly punish a child for his parents' mistake." Aramis put an arm around her waist, bringing her closer to his chest. She kissed his lips, which made him wince.

"Don't stop. It's a good kind of pain this time," he said against her mouth. "Do you resent me?" he asked after a while.

"What for?"

"For being involved with the Queen?"

"Honestly, yes, a little. However, what is done, is done. I believe it will be a burden heavy enough to carry for the rest of your life without having more people blaming you for it. It will take some time but I will come to terms with it."

"Some time? So you intend to spend more time with me?" He smiled cheekily. It made his cheeks ache. She was a clever girl to have arrived to this conclusion, and he thanked the Heavens he had found her.

"If you'll have me."

"Oh, I am not the problem. Trust me. I have taken a great liking in you. It is your uncle I am..." She put a finger on his lips to silence him.

"I do not wish to hear about him right now. I know what I want, and it's not to talk about him." To prove her point, she twined her arms around his neck, kissing him again. It was the best medicine he needed.

Two days later, Aramis was pacing nervously in the Palace's corridors. They had been summoned by the King about another of his secret missions. Athos must have made a great impression because these orders had been quite scarce after Captain Tréville left. The monarch was beginning to trust the Musketeer. Too bad he would soon have to give up his command to his rightful superior.

The Queen had not been at the audience. He knew it was dangerous to wander by himself in search of his son, but he was close and his heart was aching to be closer to him.

"What is wrong with you?" Porthos hissed. His friend was giving him a headache by constantly moving in circles.

"I am famished," Aramis lied.

"Then go to the kitchen or I swear I will punch what is left of your face."

"A tempting offer but no. I do not want Elise to yell at me again for getting into trouble. I won't be long."

Satisfied with his excuse, he left the others. When he was sure he was out of sight, he climbed the stairs to the muffled corridor leading to the nursery. He met two guards on the way, as well as two of his fellow Musketeers. He relieved the one closest to his son's room, claiming Athos had sent him to take over the watch. Pierre was too happy to comply, he did not even question the decision.

The door was slightly ajar, and there was a voice he recognized inside. He entered quietly. Marguerite was rocking the Dauphin in his crib, humming softly. She smiled when she heard his footsteps and turned around.

"It's been a long time. I have missed you."

"I did not think it was opportune to come when the Queen and the King were in such distress for the heir." Aramis stole a glance at the baby. He did not look as healthy as he used to but he did not seem to be in pain anymore. He was smiling at his governess.

"What happened to you?"

"Some complications during a mission. Nothing to worry about."

She made to touch his face and he took a step back. He was aware he had to talk to her. It was unfair to give her hope for their relationship when he was starting to become too deeply committed with Elise. It was a conversation he wish could be easy.

Taking off his hat, he explained that it was not good for her to continue seeing him. They knew perfectly well that her father intended to marry her to some Count or Duke very soon, and it was better if they stopped seeing each other. Marguerite was a nice woman after all, and he could not forgive himself if her reputation was ruined because of him. It was time he started worrying about the consequences his actions had on the ladies involved with him.

Marguerite put up quite a fight, all in hushed tones. It would not do to have a heated argument so close to the Queen's apartments. The Musketeer knew how to use his many talents and charms to convince her and she eventually accepted his decision. She was reluctant to do so, though so she sent him away to his position. She no longer wanted to talk or see him. Aramis then had to spend the next hours stuck in the corridor. He took it as a penitence for his past actions.

However, he was rather relieved when he heard Athos and the others coming in his direction.

"There you are! Did you mistake the nursery for the kitchen?"

"I had to see Marguerite, but she...hmmmmm...she was not happy with what I had to say so I am stuck here."

"It serves you well," Athos stated. "You will stay here until the next Musketeer comes to take over."

Porthos and d'Artagnan made fun of their friend until they were threatened to keep him company for the rest of the watch. It dampened their spirits at once.

It was late afternoon when Aramis left the Palace. Although the day had been quite boring, he felt satisfied to have made things clear with Marguerite. He was not worried about her; she would soon have a very good situation. On the other hand, it was torture to be so close to the Dauphin and not being able to see him, but hearing his babbling once in a while had been enough.

The familiar noises that greeted him when he reached the Garrison were a comfort. It felt like there was still hope for his life to be right somehow. He may be able to balance his dangerous love for his son with the Queen's help, and if he could keep Elise as well, it would be perfect. Unfortunately, the latter part could prove rather difficult to achieve.

"You survived!" Porthos exclaimed, sheathing his sword. "Being on baby watch is such a boredom. The only thing keeping me sane if knowing that soon he will walk and we will not always be stuck in this dull corridor." Aramis rejoiced at the thought, too. His son was growing so fast.

"Where are the others?"

"They were sent to retrieve some documents in the city. They should be back soon."

"Should we wait for them?" Porthos rolled his eyes, clearly dismissing the idea.

"They will know where to find us."

They were about to make their way out of the gates when they noticed the small troop of riders coming down the street. The two Musketeers jumped to the side to avoid being trampled. The Captain was finally back, followed by their comrades he had taken with him. Athos and d'Artagnan must have met them on the road because they were close behind.

The riders scattered in the courtyard, Musketeers quickly coming to greet their companions and their officer. There was a young man nobody knew with them; Aramis understood it was Christophe, the one who had put his family in such a terrible turmoil. He looked so thin and almost sick that it was difficult to feel anything but pity for him. His long hair was hiding his face as he dismounted, looking around.

"It's good to have you back, Captain," Porthos said, holding the reins of Tréville's horse.

"It's good to be back, indeed. I see you have not wrecked havoc while I was away. Good job, Athos." The Musketeer bowed his head to acknowledge the compliment. "Christophe, come here," he ordered the young man who joined them. He avoided his uncle's stare, observing the four Musketeers instead. "This is my infamous nephew. He will be staying at the Garrison until further notice. Who knows what trouble he could get himself into if he's left alone."

The boy threw a dark look at the Captain. He must not have been consulted for this decision. Porthos cracked his knuckles. No matter who Christophe was, he could not show disrespect for the Captain without facing the consequences.

"I will be happy to keep an eye on him."

"I don't need you to guard me," the boy sneered. Athos stopped Porthos before he made a mistake.

"Porthos, no..."

"He will learn his lesson. All in due time, Porthos," the Captain promised. It was taking a lot of self-control to handle his nephew, and he was glad to be back in Paris where he would not be alone to do so. He trusted his most loyal soldiers to provide the help he would need. Porthos's reaction was reassuring. Christophe was going to be a piece of work. "You will respect these Musketeers, boy. Porthos and Aramis were the ones who rescued Elise. You should be thanking them, not insulting them."

Understanding that he would not be left in peace, the boy reluctantly said "thank you." Porthos was still seething.

"Uncle?" Elise had been drawn outside by all the agitation. She appeared at the top of the stairs, taking in the scene in front of her. When she spotted her brother, she forgot how to behave like a lady and came hurtling down the stairs. She pushed past Aramis who was on her way and hugged her brother with all her strength. She seemed to be the only person he did not resent because he hugged her back.

"How are you? How do you feel? What happened to you? Are you sick? Do you need anything? Oh, I'm so glad you are alive!" She checked his body from head to toe, looking for any sign of trauma and was somewhat reassured when she found none.

"I am fine, Elise. You look well."

"I've had the best carers you could ask for. You'll see, these Musketeers are adorable."

"Obviously...," her brother half-heartedly agreed, staring at Porthos and d'Artagnan close behind her. He doubted that they would treat him as they had treated her.

"Uncle, it's so good to see you, too." She hugged him briefly. The smile on her face expressed all her happiness and her relief. It was a comfort for Captain Tréville to see that his niece looked healthy. Her face was as smooth as before the attack, and she moved her shoulder without difficulty. "You must be starving. Shall we go to the kitchen?"

"Some food sounds appealing, yes, but we will take it to my office. There is still much to talk about. Christophe, with me."

The Captain did not wait to see if his order was followed and went up the stairs while Elise hurried to the kitchen to find sustenance. Her brother slowly dragged his feet until Athos lost patience and grabbed his collar, hurrying him along.