Regrets

By: MusketeerAdventure

Summary: Each man had gone to war and come back as someone new – regrets and all. This is a multi-chapter entry for the Fete Des Mousquetaires June challenge, with the theme of 'Regret'.


Chapter Four: Aramis

The journey back to Paris was a quiet affair. All around them he could hear the echoed ragged breathing of their mounts; the shuffling of loose undergrowth caused by stumbling feet; and the almost imperceptible groans of his Captain. Athos pulled along the three deserters behind them – resolutely ignoring their difficulty in keeping up with the steady pace. To reach the garrison by nightfall seemed to be the goal.

But he knew better – even if his Captain did not.

Studying Athos closely he could see that finally, the events of the past few days were catching up with him. Head bowed, body sagging; he wondered how much longer the man would stubbornly keep his seat, instead of calling a halt to rest.

Aramis did not have to wait long. Just as Athos listed to the side of his saddle – before he could pull in close to stay the fall – d'Artagnan moved in deftly and rode close to prevent just that. And within seconds, Porthos had closed ranks and the three of them strode side by side, in silent solidarity.

Even their horses stepped high in sync – bumping shoulders; hooves pounding the earth in beat with one another; their strategic positions keeping Athos in his seat. They themselves were a unique trio; four legged veterans of combat – bonded together in their own experiences of battle.

Aramis called out from behind, "Let us stop to rest", and watched as the three of them searched each other out to concur and nod simultaneously in agreement.

Sighing with some level of regret and relief, Aramis reined in his horse; and led their party to a quiet; defensible clearing with water nearby. Sliding from his horse – he took charge of their prisoners and secured them tightly to a downed tree. He watched covertly as his brothers lifted Athos from his saddle, then guided, almost carrying him; with gentle care to sit beneath a shade tree and settle him comfortably with no words between them.

Within moments the two had moved as one mind – unsaddling horses; gathering wood; starting a fire; and readying a meager meal sent along by way of Juliette.

Moving toward his Captain – he sat on his haunches before him, and asked, "Would you have me check on your injuries?" Athos lifted his hand to stay his request. "I will rest Aramis. That is all I need."

He thought to protest, but then reluctantly pressed his lips tight as he looked to d'Artagnan and Porthos, who waited patiently for orders, so took his cue from them. "One hour only", Athos commanded and shifted down painfully in the dirt to rest.

Aramis nodded in assent, though it pained him that Athos would not let him help and see to his wounds. "I will keep watch then", he offered, and hoped disappointment did not sound in his voice.

"And I with you", Porthos chimed in. Athos smiled slightly – pleased about something it seemed to Aramis as he breathed his pain in with a wince before closing weary, red rimmed eyes against the waning light of day.

d'Artagnan then, without direction, laid down at his side; then placed his sword and musket within easy reach. Unexpectedly he grabbed for Athos' shirt beneath his doublet at his heart and drifted down to sleep with him. Aramis raised an eyebrow in question and turned to Porthos for some explanation of such an action. But he only shrugged; not willing it seemed to elaborate.

Instead he declared, "I will go and walk the perimeter", then left his side and was gone.

Watching him leave to disappear into the trees left him feeling bereft and if he were being truthful with himself – lonely. Lonely for his brother's companionship; banter and carefree comradery. Things were slowly healing between them, but it seemed that over the four years they spent apart – d'Artagnan, Athos and Porthos had formed a new kind of bond. One strengthened by shared occurrences of which he would never be a part.

He felt a pang of regret that he was no longer privy to such closeness.

His brothers had gone to war; and returned changed men. They were different now – but somehow the same. No longer as they were that day four years ago, when he turned away and left them on the road to follow another path.

He wondered, when they looked his way; studied him, watched him with a discerning eye if they also saw the changes in him; his sorrows and regrets. That without their physical presence to ground him - he had become this solitary man – introverted and self-contained. He only saw it now - that isolating himself to protect them only served to seclude him from the truth. That he needed them as he needed air. Without them, he was but a shadow – his regrets suffocating him despite his supplications to God.

For his regrets were many.

That he did not realize until it was too late the depths of his mother's sacrifice to see him have a better life haunted him; that he alone survived the massacre at Savoy for what purpose nagged at his soul….still; that Isabel and Adele died horribly because of his choices and only suffered because they loved him broke his heart.

Turning away from his Captain he sighed and took century beneath a sturdy oak. If he had been stronger, able to find comfort some other way in his grief – then the events that led to such isolation – his vow to God would not have been necessary.

Instead he had found love in the arms of his Queen; endangered his family; and fathered a child he could not be father to – unless to incur the wrath of a spiteful King. He could never repay their loyalty – his regret an ever present danger, even to this day and perhaps beyond – reaching even to the stability of his country.

Four years of separation had not diminished his love for them – only made it that much more difficult to reconnect.

It was almost like meeting them again for the first time – only not. The past – a shared history; even the war could not dampen. But it seemed as if their separation had lasted a lifetime. An eon of time, stretching out like a chasm …. over torrential waters. If by some folly, he fell from its heights – he would be swept away by the crushing force; with them – watching from the shore together; though trying – unable to reach him.

In truth, those four years seemed more than a life time. More like an eternity – where d'Artagnan had grown to manhood without him. Not only was he now a man in height and stature, but in maturity. His gaze was steady; his talent fulfilled; his potential for leadership there in the open for all to see – not just Athos who had predicted it true. He only wished that behind such growth he could ease the pain he saw just below the surface. A pain so raw - it hurt to witness; when unbeknownst to d'Artagnan it seeped through.

Athos moaned low in his sleep – distress evident on his face. His eyes moved rapidly beneath his lids – an indication he knew of disturbed sleep. As he moved to sooth his friend, d'Artagnan gripped hard at Athos' shirt and slid closer, never waking himself – his other hand squeezing the hilt of his sword – protecting his mentor on some battlefield deep within their shared dreams.

He settled back down before the fire and marveled at the depth of their connection. It had been strong before; but now…? Frowning he could only guess at the guilt and pain the office of command had visited upon his friend. A reticent man at best – the war seemed to have made his edges sharper; his duty more than his purpose – now an obsession.

He worried for Athos' state of mind, if Grimaud was not apprehended soon; and prayed that in this new life away from battle and constant vigilance, he could find some semblance of happiness, for he deserved it.

They all deserved it.

Of all his mistakes, miscalculations and sorrows; this was his greatest regret. That he had not been there to protect his family; comfort them; and love them. They had grown – suffered, and moved on with their lives; adhering to each other the more for it; just as he had continued on and found a deeper kinship with his Lord.

"You think too loud", Porthos declared wearily and sat heavily beside him. "I could hear you out beyond the trees."

Aramis straightened his back, tilting his head to the side with admiration. He had not heard Porthos approach – his stealth impressive, no doubt improved by four years of forced practice of need.

He studied his friend closely as he reached for the water skin and swallowed down cool water with a satisfied flourish. Aramis smiled – reassured by Porthos' presence, for his friend was still larger than life; full of untapped energy and compassion. He was as he remembered – a man of his word; loyal filled up with….

"We have changed Aramis – I have changed", Porthos interrupted; his gaze locked hard on the flames before them – then beyond to his sleeping comrades. "I am no longer that man you are thinking of now." Aramis could hear clearly the dejection in his voice; shook his head vigorously with denial; and then with force exclaimed, "You are the same to me in all that matters."

Softly over the crackling fire; and the steady even breaths of the others, Aramis could hear the ebb and flow of the nearby stream. A brief flash of memory assailed him of Porthos laughing, tears of joy streaming down his face as he attempted to teach him, knee deep in freezing water – how to catch hold of a fish with his bare hands – with no success. It had been a magical day.

Porthos turned sad eyes to him – but not overly so; as if he simultaneously shared the same memory, and squeezed Aramis' arm fondly.

After some moments of stillness between them, each lost in their own thoughts of the past, present , and what might the future still hold – a thought; an idea began to blossom in Aramis' mind.

For the past four years, he had missed his brothers greatly; agonized over their safety; prayed selfishly for their lives to be spared. Kept them as they were in his mind's eye (an adventurous boy; stoic leader; and boisterous best friend) through tales of adventures told to his young charges – who eagerly awaited each day to hear of their daring exploits – and he to tell them.

Over and above his own regrets – he prayed to God to see them once again; and be in their company. And God, in His most infinite wisdom had answered his petition in the positive. Now he wished for one more prayer to be answered; and would bargain with his life to make it happen.

That God would grant them peace. That he would see fit to end this war with Spain; to end this suffering, this destruction, and needless death. If there was anything he could do – he would do it.

He would make it his mission to bring about such peace with God's help. This was his most fervent wish. To present such a gift to his brothers – to have them move on from this horror into stillness – peace of mind; a hope for the future of love; family and prosperity.

Looking now at Porthos' profile – he thanked God over and over for his mercy and love – for sending Porthos back to him – his touchstone, lifeline; and safety net. The man who had saved his life on numerous occasions, and saved it even now; but did not know it.

Sensing Aramis' change of demeanor; and his eyes boring into his soul, Porthos looked to him with a question in his eyes. "What is it you are up to Aramis?"

"Only thinking how glad that you are with me, my friend. Glad that we have found each other once again. That I will do whatever it takes to bring you peace."

Porthos chuckled and then stilled, as he saw in Aramis' face stern evidence of determination. A decision had been made. He knew that look – one that four years apart had not changed or altered. So with a serious tone – understanding the gravity of this declaration he then insisted fiercely, "Then I would ask Aramis, that you not undertake this task alone."

Aramis smiled, with an old sense of his cheekiness; clapped his friend's shoulder then squeezed tight, "God is on my side Porthos – He will not let me down."

Porthos reached for the hand at his shoulder and gripped it hard, "And nor will I."


Thank you so much for reading! This is the final chapter for the Fete des Mousquetaires entry with the June theme of 'Regret'. I hope you enjoyed it. Please leave a review, and let me know what you think!

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