Chapter 2: Nothing Ventured, Nothing Gained
Disclaimer: Own nothing but Antoinette and plot twists, everything else goes to the actors, studios, and the great Alexandre Dumas :) Please read and review!
The cause for a sudden celebration after redressing led the group to drink Venice dry in her fountain of youth and booze. Hazy memories of Athos and Milady bantering while stealing drunken kisses across the table while Porthos charmed the bar maidens with few alluring words in Italian combined with French. Their giggles were heard from the other side of the room where Aramis stole away his lover in a dark corner booth. Her incessant giggling and his persistent lust amored them to heated conversation.
"Might we draw for the night, love?" he asked taking a breather and quick mouthful from his tankard.
She massaged his hair back from their steamy kisses. "Mhmm, right after I beat you at your own game. Two ales!" she ordered to the bar wenches. They delivered the frothy alcohol within moments, happy to have a full bar of eager customers.
He laughed as he held a grip on the tankard. "Might I inquire your intentions in getting ourselves drunk? Do you remember the last time we were lovedrunk?"
Antoinette's eyes checked the ale before bit her lip at the distant memory. A night's full of driven passion and longing with the warmth of alcohol flowing through their veins still gave her the shivers.
"I believe," she recalled squinting her eyes. "you broke the headboard,"
He scowled at her prudent teasing. "Don't forget you had tripped over a chair on the way to,"
Her laughing ceased as she gently prodded her nose where it had once been bruised. One bruise however did not stop the love Aramis gave off. She pouted as she swung her head back drinking in a stale beer.
Aramis left his untouched as he set hers down and drowned her mouth with his lips and dancing tongue. They stopped for another minute of rash breathing before hastily leaving the tavern up to the assigned room they were given only a day ago. Aramis slammed Antoinette's back to the door with a hand by her head. Hers were underneath his shirt and to the pocket he kept the inn key.
"Looking for something?" she giggled as he opened the door with the key before closing it and discarded the metal as he pursued Antoinette. Her back forcefully met the plush mattress of the bed and half of her corset undone when a sharp knock came from the door.
Aramis shouted something in Italian, more than likely curses but the knocks continued with rapid, fluent Italian. Antoinette rolled over the hovering the frustrated Aramis. She grabbed her robe and presented herself decent to receive a curt apology and a letter addressed to her.
She closed the door and inspected the seal on the back.
"It is from Papa," she glanced at the wax red seal of the House of Lorraine and the barony of Chevreuse.
Aramis sat up right with his head against the backboard. He groaned. "Why is it that your father always interferes when we are in the middle of something?"
She remembered the brief love spots of her and Aramis in her estate, in the barn, scandalously in the garden, and when he was there: in the palace foyer. She broke the seal with an envelope knife.
"He can be a nuisance but at least he doesn't forbid our affairs," she reminded him as he put his holy cross necklace on the bedpost nearest him. He grabbed his reading glasses and a pocket version of the Bible from his bag before adjusting carefully on the right side of the bed.
He said, "He certainetly knows our to turn off the mood,"
Antoinette swung her hips when walking toward him and sat in his lap whilst holding the unread letter. She traced patterns on top of the cotton white shirt to the opening of the neckline.
"You sure?" she asked as his gaze crossed between reading the Holy Word and his sinful indiscretion. His shaky fingers flipped through pages until finally his patience could not be found with her on top of him.
He closed the book abruptly. "Read the damn letter so I can take you without interruption," His lusty eyes wandered over her bosom and his hands fingered the back of her corset.
She paused at his worn hands searching for a quicker way to have his way with her. She opened the folded parchment and read in her head its lengthy words.
Dearest Daughter,
My concern to your sudden travels to Venice with the King's Musketeers leaves me in subdue disappointment. A lady bred of your value should not be involved with the masquerades of swordsmanship and talents far beyond the skills of a lady of twenty and five. Your upbringing should have taught you the propierty of honoring a man with your virtues at the marriage bed and raising wholesome children rather than gallivanting off with an excommunicated man of the cloth and run the risk of producing little bastards for my grandchildren.
Upon your return home, you will be under my supervision in Lorraine or attending to the Queen as a lady-in-waiting in the palatial residence of Paris. Fail to do so will put me in the disfortune to disinherent all the money and love I hold for you child, as you are the only brethern I have. What muddled trouble you have concocted in your haired brain of your future is yet to be seen.
All my love,
Claude de Lorraine, Duc of Chevreuse
Antoinette's eyes re-read the letter a second and even a third time. She did not leave the troubling words of her father even when her chest was exposed to the love from Aramis. A quick kiss to her shoulder awoke from her thoughts.
"Bad news, love?"
She nodded her head. She crumbled the letter and threw it behind her but still did not seem to be relieved or in the mood as she thought she was.
Aramis, sensing her distress, stopped his smouldering love to let her head rest on his chest, holding her in his arms. They lay for minutes in silence until her voice broke in unwanted sniffles.
"Father wants me home... or in court away from the Musketeers... and you,"
Aramis' hand smoothed down the frazzled curls as he lulled her with silence. "You don't have to do anything for now, my love. He is there, and you are here,"
She lifted her head. "But he threatened to revoke my title, lands, money, and all the happiness I ever wanted away from me. I would give them all up... if it meant not losing you,"
He rocked her back and forth like a frightened lamb in a thunder storm. He captured her essence he developed his senses for, knowing every emotion and twinge in her body by heart.
"No. Not for me," he whispered. "Military pay won't support us and our future for long, Netta. I will not let you revoke your birthright, something I was never offered, to gratify for my love,"
She clung on his shoulder for head support. She said, "What do we do if we are separated?"
His arms tightened. "We hold onto our memories in our hearts in hope we see each other again,"
All her life, her upbringing led her to be taught as a proper lady. To not fight. To not disobey. To not hope for love in her future hand in marriage. That all changed when she met the silent yet adventurous Aramis. A once priest turned swordsman to fight for the whole of France. Her beliefs turned quickly falling head over heels. Five years later she still felt the same love for him then as she did now, but only deeper.
She blinked away imprudent tears. Antoinette sniffed and laughed to herself reading the letter penned her father's words in her head.
Aramis sighed happy to find her not moping for long. Her little tucked away smile cast a glow in his woven heart. "And what pray tell, do you find so funny at this moment?" he wondered.
She glowed at him. "Father wrote how I should be laying my virtues to a faithful husband and giving him grandchildren instead of with you and risking children of our own,"
Aramis chuckled silently. "Well I am a man of faith. And children would not seem so bad five years in,"
She kissed his lips hastily. "Produce little 'imbeciles' ourselves?"
He returned a kiss generously. "A beautiful little Antoinette and a few dashing Aramises would decorate your estate nicely,"
Her jaw dropped and she hit him playfully on her chest. "A few? How many are we talking about?"
He muddled over the thought. "Three sons and two daughters?" he figured?
She buried her face in his shirt. "By the time they come out I'll be old and ugly," she mumbled.
He lifted her head to gaze into her eyes. "Never in my eyes. We'll be still racking at it well past our middle ages," he teased.
She tickled him at his sides and smothered him with a kiss. "Let us enjoy our good years first. Besides, you'll need father's seal of approval and a ring on my finger before I give birth,"
"I'll keep that in mind," he said rolling over on top of her, ravishing her until the colorful hours of dawn.
The next morning was not as blinding as the others soon thought it would be judging from the amount of alcohol and money spent on luxuries accordingly. Aramis had the outmost pleasure to bathe with Antoinette, have another round, and dress within the next hour. She sat on his lap with the dress he had chosen for her to wear: a crismon and golden lining strapped bodice with slimming, more flattering skirts for her curvacious figure.
With them stood the other three points to their five pointed star. Milady boasted in her turquoise and emerald velveteen dress with Athos pointing out locations to the quickest route to Paris. Porthos started to unstopper another bottle of wine for the morning meal. Athos tucked the black cased plans for the war machine in the foldings of his cape adorned on the seat he left unreserved.
Milady poured five chalices of wine Porthos drew to all of her colleagues. Athos proposed the toast.
"All for one," he announced.
"And one for all," they chorused. They clinged their drinks together before sipping the tasty original French wine they traveled among with them. Athos and Milady stayed at a grand hotel across the tavern, seeing as Milady's standards weren't as tolerant as the lusty couple on the seat. The Venetian carvings on the pillars opened up to the art covered ceiling of Catholic and golden visions of heaven. Chandliers of Borque style and white washed statues decorated the apartment lavishly.
"So what's next," Milady ventured.
Antoinette dipped her cup to her mouth before the cup disappeared to the next table away from reach. She glared at her lover as he said it was enough wine for the both of them.
"Back to Paris, I guess,"
"And then what?" she questioned.
"Wherever they send us, whatever France needs," Athos flourished.
From behind, Aramis moved Antoinette off his lap as he gathered their belongings off the table to be packed. "It's who we are. It's what we do," he explained.
Milady gazed at her cup with no interest. Antoinette knew she could never be a Musketeer but she had least knew the burdens and sacrifices each make to serve the King and France. Loyalty, courage, honor- traits Antoinette knew Milady didn't have. Despite their friendliness towards one another, Milady's track record bothered all honorable people but not Athos, kind and caring Athos.
She looked longingly towards her beloved with sadness and grief. "I do love you," she whispered.
"I know," Athos understood.
Antoinette felt her stomach cramp. She placed her hands at her sides, feeling nausea overwhelm her. Aramis caught her drift and took her hand that grasped the table. The strange tingling feeling of her legs going numb empowered her to lean forward for air.
"Then please try and understand that this isn't personal," Milady added. "It's strictly business. He made me a better offer,"
"Netta?" Aramis said concerned as she coughed rapidly and slowly knelt to the ground. Porthos felt around for a chair as his head rambled from the inside out. Aramis tried to shake his head from the same mind numbing feeling as Porthos searched for a gun or knife at the intruder Milady festered.
"Ah, Athos," a taunting British voice filled the room.
"Buckingham," Athos grunted as he felt his stomach and his heart being stabbed. All three men fell from lack of mobility. Antoinette crawled over to Aramis adn Athos, who hunched over in pain. Buckingham's face was hazy and multiplying. His poofed raven black hair matched his pompous clothes and inky black heart. She coughed again until her voice silenced.
Her hand reached for Aramis as she listened to the words Buckingham sneered at her and her friends.
"And the little girlfriend. Not brave enough to wither like the rest of her friends, I see. Oh well, she'll be begging for mercy from me soon enough," he chortled a quick laugh.
"A toxin," he drawled. "In case you were wondering, it wasn't in your drink, it was on your cup. Inactive until it came into contact with the liquid,"
Milady walked off without another fleeting glance as Buckingham welcomed himself to puruse the artifacts and weaponry. "Don't worry. It isn't fatal. Althought I suspect a part of you wishes it was. You take all the risk, and I get all the reward. Hardly seems fair.
"Just so you don't leave empty-handed, a word of advice. Trust no one, especially women. You'll live longer," Buckingham concluded as Athos rolled back to unconscious state of being.
He turned to the immobile Antoinette, head lolling back on the floor. "Nothing ventured, nothing gained, my dear," His gloved hand brushed against her lips and cheek. "Pitiful a woman like you can't work under a man like me," he bullied as he kicked her onto her side.
Antoinette's breathing shallowed. Her world no longer grew in multiple versions. it turned brighter than the sun, and then as black as night in an instant.
Darkness enveloped her in for what the world is to come.
Suspense! Oh I can't wait to get all my thoughts and ideas down for the rest of the story. Loved the movies and Luke Evans as Aramis. Amazing actor :) And just in case you are wondering, yes Claude de Lorraine and his titles are actual real land and peerage given to during the 17th century France. Thought I throw in some history in this to seem somewhat historically accurate :) Please review!