Chapter XXXII

Elise's back was warming up by the gigantic fireplace in the Garrison's common room. There had been so much to eat today that she was full. She did not think she could swallow anything else for days. The atmosphere was as festive as it could be, given that many Musketeers were on missions or on duty some place else. The cup of spiced wine in her hand, in addition to the fire, was slowly lulling her to sleep.

She closed her eyes for a second, listening to the laughter and the constant shouts from the men. They could not be quiet when they were together. Someone was cheering on d'Artagnan then there was a rattle and it sounded like something had been broken. Elise did not need to ask to know what had happened: they almost always broke something when they arm-wrestled. The cook was too drunk to chastise them, so they kept on playing.

"If you're not careful, you are going to set yourself on fire," a deep voice warned her. Opening her eyes, Elise noticed Athos sitting next to her. She sat up straight; her back and her hair were getting dangerously close to the flames indeed. "More wine?" he offered.

"No, thank you. One of us must be able to guide the other home." Aramis stood up, his balance not as good as when he was completely sober, proving her point. Athos drank from his glass. He was so broody.

"Why aren't you enjoying yourself with them?"

"This is how I enjoy myself."

"So I have noticed. Christmas is a cheerful day, Athos. You should be happier."

"I hate Christmas," he stated. The young woman was surprised. It was the first time she had heard someone say they hated this holiday. From what she knew of the Musketeer, though, there were not many things he liked anyway.

"That is sad. It's one of my favourite holidays. Everybody should rejoice and enjoy the atmosphere. It's snowing, there are fires everywhere, and holly. I love holly!" He glanced at her, seeing only a blurry shape.

"I got married on Christmas Day," he declared, finishing another glass of wine. The bottle was empty. Elise watched him stand up to fetch another one. He sat back down, almost missing the bench.

"I did not know you were married."

"I'm not. Not anymore." Another glass of wine. "She's dead, well, I thought she was, but she is not."

Elise was greatly confused. Was he saying the truth or was the alcohol giving another meaning to his words?

"I don't understand."

"It's better if you don't. She's a dangerous and vile woman. You do not want to ever cross her path."

"I'm sorry, Athos," Elise said, putting her hand on his. He glanced at it. "Aramis and you seem to have had complicated lives."

"Correct. The difference is that I was not aware of what I was doing when I married her. I did not know the consequences it would one day have." Athos stared at his friend, laughing loudly with Porthos. They were talking with Christophe whose face and ears were turning bright red, whether from drink or embarrassment, he could not tell.

"He will always protect me and you. I know he does not want you to suffer because of him."

Elise did not know if the older man would remember their conversation, but they had never talked about Aramis and the Queen before so it was a chance she could not miss. She wanted to take the bottle away from his grasp; it did nothing good to him. If she was being honest, she felt pity for him. His life did not sound like it had been a pleasant one.

"Of course, he does not. However, if he could actually think before acting from now on, it will prevent many hardships."

"Isn't it what I am here for? Slap his head whenever he even thinks about doing something stupid?" she joked, glad to notice that it made Athos smile. He looked at her with glassy eyes.

"Absolutely. He was in desperate need of a guardian. My threats have no impact whatsoever on him. Yours however, they must work perfectly."

Elise laughed out loud and it was a small victory when he chuckled as well. He offered her wine once again and this time she accepted it. The warm liquid felt good.

"What are you two laughing about?" Porthos asked, grabbing the bowl full of bread on the table and shovelling a large piece in his mouth.

"Her husband."

"What has he done this time?"

"Nothing. Elise is nicely taming him." Porthos swallowed his food, smirking.

"Well, we all know who commands in that house. That's you," he added for Elise's sake, in case she did not understand.

"I do not order him around."

"She does not," Aramis agreed, standing behind her, his hands on her shoulders.

"I demand very politely with insistence." Elise looked up at her husband, grinning while his friend laughed even louder at her words. Even Athos smiled a little more. Aramis' face fell a little at being mocked and he sat down next to her, taking the cup of wine from her hands.

"You've had enough, woman. You don't know what you're saying anymore."

"Ooooh, someone does not like being the laughing stock!" Aramis stretched his leg under the table until he found Porthos'. He kicked hard, the other groaning. It did not stop him from retaliating. Aramis screamed out in pain.

"I sprained that ankle last summer, you idiot!"

"Don't tell me it hasn't healed yet!"

"It's still sore sometimes, if you must know."

"Would you listen to that poor child!"

"Shut your mouth."

"Shut yours first. You started it."

"Sometimes, I swear they've given me babes instead of proper soldiers," Captain Tréville complained, shaking his head. He seemed to find the two Musketeers hopeless. The two concerned did not appear to find the comment offensive. They were actually smirking at each other and Porthos leaned over to slap his friend's shoulder. Elise figured out a long time ago it was their way to show they cared without having to say that they loved each other.

"Have you finally come to party with us, Captain?" Porthos asked, already looking for a glass to give him.

"It's not Christmas every day after all." He smiled at his niece as he sat down. It was a day to spent with family and he was her closest. The announcement of her pregnancy to Aramis had helped her in not thinking too much about her parents, but she really wished they could be here with them to see what their children had become. She smiled back at her uncle, stealing back her cup of wine from her husband's fingers.

"See? She disobeys you and you are not saying anything. Shame on you," Porthos said, shaking his head as if the other had done something outrageous. Aramis shot him a dark look but decided that it was not worth replying. He looked at Elise instead.

"Not him," he decided. She had to laugh. Their friend looked confused.

"Not me for what?"

"We are looking for a godfather but you, my friend, have just lost the privilege of even trying to become one," Aramis said very calmly, drinking his wine while the others made sense of what he had just announced. Porthos slammed both hands on the table.

"You're pregnant!" he shouted. When the young woman nodded to confirm, he scrambled to his feet, knocked a chair in the process of coming to her side and gave her such a strong hug she felt light-headed afterwards.

"Easy there. Don't break her," Aramis warned him.

"I hope he looks more like you than his father," Porthos whispered, still loud enough for all to hear. His friend punched his shoulder. Then, they both burst out laughing and hugged.

Elise's face was aching from smiling as she received many congratulations from all the soldiers who had heard the news. Her uncle kissed her forehead. It was not his intention yet she was on the brink of crying when he said that her parents would be so proud of her. They were mistaken for tears of joy, but she still welcomed her brother's hug, hiding her face against his shoulder until she felt recovered enough from her emotions.

"I'll get more wine." Athos' decision was applauded by the men.

It was already dark when they left the Garrison. It had truly felt like old times for Aramis: the endless banter, the games, the gambles, the wine. Especially the wine. He staggered along, leaning on Elise. He was so heavy, it was going to take them forever to reach their house.

"I'm sorry," he said, trying to straighten up.

"Someone enjoyed himself a little too much, that's all. Put one foot in front of the other. I won't be able to drag you home if you fall."

"I'm sorry," he repeated.

"There's no need to apologise." They walked a few more meters until they had to round a corner and Aramis reeled against a brick wall. He cursed and Elise rolled her eyes, tugging on his arm to direct him in the correct direction.

"I'm sorry."

"I heard you the first two times, Aramis."

"Oh, sorry." Someone laughed ahead of them. When Elise squinted and saw who it was, she breathed a sigh of relief.

"Are you going to stand there and watch or are you going to actually help me?" she asked d'Artagnan. He was wearing a heavy cape covered in powdered snow. He must have spent quite some time outside. Hurrying to her, he put Aramis' arm around his shoulders. Elise suddenly felt a lot lighter.

"Were you headed home?"

"No, I thought he needed to drink some more and we were going to the nearest tavern. What do you think? Of course we're headed home!" she snapped at him and the young man held out his free hand to keep her at bay.

"All right, all right! I was simply asking."

"Where did you disappear?" Elise asked when they had started walking again. She was not sure whether her husband was still conscious or not as he was not apologising anymore. The young Musketeer had left the Garrison earlier in the afternoon, never explaining where he was going.

"I went to wish a friend a merry Christmas."

"Is this friend named Constance?" d'Artagnan stayed quiet for a moment.

"Perhaps."

"What is going on between the two of you anyway?" Elise was curious and she especially did not know not knowing. There had been times when she had seen d'Artagnan and Constance joke and almost flirt, but her friend was married. It was a matter she had never dared mention with the older woman.

"She's a very fine lady, intelligent, and smart, and funny. Her company is greatly enjoyable."

"Is that so? What about her husband? Do you enjoy his company as well?"

"He does sell great garments," Aramis slurred, wishing to take part in a conversation he barely understood. His wife patted his arm.

"It's complicated," d'Artagnan replied.

"I understood that much."

"Once upon a time, she was willing to leave him and come with me but...it never happened. So now, we try to see each other whenever we can."

"She's married d'Artagnan," Elise insisted. "Have you thought about what will happen to her if you are discovered?"

"I try not to dwell too much on this."

"Well, you should. Sometimes, it seems to me that Musketeers hardly ever think before acting." She shook her head. His situation may not be as precarious as Aramis', none of the soldiers were behaving in a way that would make their lives easier.

They did not talk for the rest of the walk. She simply thanked him when he carried Aramis up the stairs to their bedroom. Then she asked him to be careful and she was left alone with a snoring Musketeer on her bed.

It would be too difficult to undress him. Elise only rid him of his hat, his cape and his boots. She spread a heavy blanket on him and curled on his side, her head on his chest.

"Merry Christmas, Aramis." He must have heard her because he put his arm around her, pulling her closer.