This was difficult. I really wanted to have more of the General's character show and capture the strained relationship with Aramis and his father...could bygones be bygones?

oooooooo

Back in their room at the Inn, Aramis fell back onto his bed with a sigh.

"How are you feeling?" asked Athos seriously, as he took a seat in the chair across from the man. Aramis swung his legs over the side of the bed to face Athos. He ran his hand through his hair settling it on his neck.

"To be honest, I don't know what to think," he said, helplessly. "I've come to find that the sister that I thought had forsaken and forgotten me loves me still despite the time and space that has separated us, and I have a nephew too."

"Who could pass for a younger version of yourself, I'm betting," Porthos said, sitting next to Aramis on the bed and bringing his hand up to rub his brother's neck.

Aramis chuckled. "He may look like me, but his temperament must be more his father's. He's too good and sweet tempered to be me," said Aramis. "Even as a child I always had a penchant for trouble and mischief – through no fault of my own!" he added with a smirk. "I think it was this mix of stubbornness and curiosity which most plagued my father. I learned very early from my mother to trust my instincts when it came to right and wrong. Let's just say my father had his own opinions…"

"It has been an emotional day," said Athos carefully. "Perhaps we should decline the invitation to dinner."

Aramis looked up, startled.

"Clearly there is much unresolved tension between you and your father. Annabella is aware of it too," said Athos. "There is much you're not telling us – that you're not telling Annabella, though I can tell she has her suspicions...of what, I do not know, and I would never force you to confide in us. I only ask, brother, out my concern for you. Perhaps limiting your exposure to the man will make the remainder of our time here easier for you."

Aramis was silent for a moment considering his brother's words. Athos was rarely this communicative, so each statement held much meaning. The pair locked eyes with each other continuing the conversation without words. Porthos nodding along silently, knowing exactly what arguments both men would be making. Finally, Aramis shook his head.

"I can't Athos," Aramis said, resting his elbows on his knees and running his hands through his curls once more. "It's been too long. Don't you see? When I renounced my family all those years ago, I thought I had nothing. Now I know that I was wrong. That she didn't abandon me. I abandoned her! I cannot do that again. I have…a family," he said, eyes pleading for Athos to understand. Athos heart broke at the sight of his brother's despair. Deep in his heart Athos knew what it meant to have lost family, having lost his own brother, murdered by his wife. There was nothing Athos wouldn't give for the chance to look into his brother's eyes once more. He nodded, swallowing thickly, the love in his eyes reflected back to him from the brawler and the marksman seated on the bed.

When they arrived for dinner, the General greeted them.

"Good evening gentlemen. My daughter is awaiting you in the dining room." He said, gesturing for the men to proceed. Porthos shifted his stance only slightly, just in case. He wasn't sure why but there was something about the General that kept him unsettled. It was something about the cold dark eyes – so similar, yet so different from the pair he knew so well, and the way that they always lingered on Aramis. If that was it, Porthos wasn't sure, but he did know that Athos also felt uneasy as he straightened his already impeccable posture and began to enter the home.

"Thank you for the invitation to dinner," said Aramis awkwardly. His father turned to look at him. His expression was unfathomable, but his eyes still burned. After a curt nod to acknowledge the statement, the General continued to lead the way to the dining room.

Athos raised an eyebrow at Aramis, who shrugged in response as they made their way in the General's wake. Perhaps this would be the beginning of a reconciliation…

All things considered, dinner was as pleasant as could be expected. The General was mostly quiet, observing Aramis as he chatted merrily with Porthos and Annabella, while he and Athos discussed military history. It was strange, but it appeared to Athos that the General grew more and more agitated as the night drew on and Annabella's laughter grew louder.

"Perhaps we should call for some music," Annabella said. "Porthos, do you dance?" she teased.

"Yea, but not well," he replied with a gruff laugh. "Not a lot of dancin' at the garrison," he said with a grin.

"Nonsense," replied Aramis. "Don't let his size fool you. Porthos is the most nimble and graceful of dancers."

"We must have you dance!" cried Annabella. "It's been so long since I've danced with a man," she said.

"Then the men in this towns are fools," he responded, his mouth dropping open in embarrassment at the realization of what he had just said. He blushed deeply but looked defiantly at Aramis, daring him to make a joke. Aramis, for his part, was attempting to both stifle his laughter and not choke on his wine.

Annabella smiled at Porthos, her cheeks tinged pink as well. "You flatter me. Aramis, you never mentioned how charming and chivalrous your companion is. Perhaps you could learn a thing or two from him," she teased her brother, causing both men to erupt in laughter.

The General stood suddenly, startling the others. "I'm afraid I must call it a night," he announced.

"Yes, it has grown quite late," said Athos, also rising.

"Good evening," he said, as he turned and marched swiftly from the room.

"How strange…" said Annabella, looking after her father thoughtfully.

"He is right," responded Aramis, also rising to his feet. "It is late. I expect that we'll receive his response for the King some time tomorrow…"

"And then you'll be leaving?" said Annabella, slightly shocked as this realization sank in.

"Unfortunately," said Athos. "It is our duty to return with a response for the King. It is a long return journey to Paris."

"And the King ain't exactly the most patient," added Porthos.

"I understand," she said glumly. "Will you join me tomorrow for whatever time you have left here. Perhaps we can have a picnic?" she said thoughtfully. "I should so wish Rene to know you," she said, looking imploringly at her brother.

"Nothing would make me happier," he replied, cupping her cheek in his hand.

The three men left and Annabella passed by her father's library on her way to her own chambers.

"Father?" she said inquisitively, poking her head into the room when she saw the glow of the lit hearth. "What are you doing?"

"I am preparing some of my documents. I want you to know that I intend to leave everything to Rene should anything happen to me," he said as he shuffled some papers around on his desk.

"He goes by Aramis now," replied Annabella.

Her father sneered. "Not him" he said. "That man is unworthy of this family. He is a scar that should be hidden. You have always been forever doting on him. He is not worthy of your affection."

"Father!" said Annabella sharply. "He is your son – and my brother. I cannot help but love him."

Silence fell as her father glared at her from across the desk.

"Please father," Annabella soothed. "Whatever happened, was long ago. I will not cut Aramis from my life again. You must understand…"

"This is not a discussion," said the General, coldly. "You were raised to be obedient." He took a step towards her moving around the desk. "Need I remind you that this is my home? I am the law here. I am to be obeyed in all things." With that, he roughly grabbed her forearm, twisting and applying pressure to the limb.

"Father! Stop!" she gasped, surprised by the force and pain.

"You will obey me," he repeated, violently. "You will dismiss that man tomorrow and you will never allow him back into this home again. He will be dead to you. My life, OUR life has been built on discipline and order. That bastard is my greatest failure and the thought of him has plagued me for the past 12 years. I knew that one day he would return here to take everything that I've accomplished."

"No! You're wrong," cried Annabella. "Aramis is a Musketeer now. I'm sure if you ask him he'd want nothing!"

"You're a fool. You would always defend him, even as a child. Do not align yourself with something that is the target of my anger, lest my aim shift…" he threatened menacingly.

Annabella was on her knees now, forced down by the pain in her arm. "Father," she pleaded.

"You were always my treasure," he said coldly. "Perhaps I should have taught you that D'Herblay's feel no pain as I did with your bastard brother. I'm sure Rene will learn quickly…smart boy that he is.."

"Father, no!" she sobbed, fighting her tears. "Please…not my son...don't hurt my son…I'll do whatever you want. Anything!"

"Of course," he said coldly, releasing her arm. Annabella collapsed to the floor. "You are a good and obedient daughter…and your son will remain in my care as my heir. After tomorrow, we will never see... Aramis again. Mark my words," he said cruelly, "he will be dead to you." He strode through the door, leaving Annabella curled on the floor.

oOo