Not sure what to say other than thanks for the reviews. It means a lot to hear what you think. I'm so glad i took the leap and finally posted to this amazing community.

Ok, on to the next chapter!

ooooooooooo

The next morning dawned bright and warm in the coastal village. When the musketeers returned to the manor, the General greeted them in the courtyard. A group of his men gathered nearby.

"Gentlemen," he said as they approached. "You shall have your reply by this evening. Before you return to the inn. Ah!" he called as Annabella and her son appeared at the entranceway. "Here's my treasures." Annabella paled slightly at the sight of her father, but smiled as she approached him. Placing one hand on her shoulder and the other on her son's curls, the General's lips curled upwards. "You are so precious to me," he said.

"Grandpere," said the boy excitedly. "We're going to go down to the beach to search for shells!" The older man smiled and looked at the boy's mother. Their eyes locked for a moment – a glance and a warning – then the older man entered the home saying nothing, his valet close at his heels.

"Hello!" called Aramis. "Everything all right?"

"Aramis!" cried the boy Rene, running to his uncle with a wild abandon. Aramis grinned at the boy's reaction and scooped him up into his arms.

"Hello,' he repeated to the boy. "What's this I hear about going to the beach?"

"Rene loves playing in the sand," said Annabella "He's promised to find me a new shell." She casually pulled her shawl a little tighter around her shoulders, flinching ever so slightly, a subtle gesture but not missed by the sharp eyes of the medic.

"Are you all right?" he said placing the boy on the ground.

"Oh yes, I'm fine," she gushed. "Just a little under the weather."

Aramis raised an eyebrow to her.

"I'm fine," she repeated firmly. "Porthos," she said, moving past her brother and smiling at the larger man. "Can you help me with the basket? I believe they've packed enough food for an army!" Aramis looked at Athos over his nephew's head. Athos shrugged his shoulders slightly, and the two men fell into step behind the boy who chatted merrily as they made their way towards the beach.

As the midday sun broke free from the few lingering clouds, Aramis and Porthos, both bootless and in shirt sleeves traipsed up and down the beach, Rene perched on Aramis' shoulders, inspecting every shell candidate that Porthos provided. Annabella and Athos watched amid the remains of their picnic lunch.

"You have no idea what seeing you again has meant to him," said Athos quietly.

Annabella smiled softly and looked at the swordsman. "I think the feeling is mutual," she said. After a few moments of silence Annabella began to cry as she sat watching her brother and her son. "He never should have come back here," she whispered.

"What do you mean?" said Athos, smothering his alarm. "Are you in danger?"

Subconsciously, Annabella drew her shawl tighter around her once more bringing her arm across her waist.

"Not if he leaves," she replied sadly. "I remember the day he was brought here. A boy, barely ten, all scuffed knees and elbows, but Rene – Aramis" she corrected herself, "Aramis was charming even then. I loved him as my brother instantly. I sometimes wonder if it was because of this – my doting – that father was so hard on him."

Athos sat quietly as Annabella struggled to put words to her thoughts.

"It started slowly I think. I don't really know. Father always hid it from me and Aramis never told me, but I knew. I knew and I did nothing," she said bitterly. "But what could I do? I was just a girl…" she trailed off again, thoughts swirling like the debris caught in the sea breeze on the beach.

"What did you know?" probed Athos gently.

Choking back a sob Annabella cast her eyes down. "Father is a military man. He was used to order and discipline…and corporal punishment," she said lowly. "Then along comes Aramis who was just so…Aramis!" she paused. "I think in the beginning, he truly was just trying to teach him some discipline. Every day father and Charles took Aramis for his lessons. I was usually occupied with lessons of my own. It was months before I started to notice the marks."

Alarm bells were sounding in Athos' head, but still he kept quiet, allowing Annabella to divest her story.

"I remember walking by his room and hearing him whimpering. I remember seeing the bruising on his chest, the lash marks on his back. He was a child, Athos! When I asked him how he got those marks, he told me they were from his lessons. That Father was teaching him how to be a man. He said they were his fault for not being better. He said he was fine!" she sobbed. "I was horrified. I asked him why he let them hurt him. He said that every time he cried, the kitchen boy, Paul, would be beaten in his place. Paul was a mute you see. Father knew that Paul wouldn't cry out. He knew that Aramis would do anything to protect the boy. He was innocent." Annabella's voice was hollow as she recalled this nightmare.

"I couldn't stand to see how they were "making him a man". One day I found him collapsed in the foyer. His rib was broken and his skull was bleeding. I brought him to my room. I stayed with him all night just to make sure he kept breathing. The next day I confronted my father. He said that Aramis had simply fallen down the stairs. He said that he was weak and sensitive and that no son of his would ever be seen to be weak," she said bitterly. "Three days later I was sent off to an Abbey in the North of France and married a few years later. I fought when they took me from him. What could I do?" she asked desperately. "I wrote him every day, but I just learned that father kept my letters from him. Father made him think I abandoned him, while actually I wept and prayed for him every day. Father would give me no knowledge, would tell me nothing of him. The last I heard of him was 12 years ago. Father wrote to tell me that Aramis had disgraced and disavowed our family. He said he had run away and that his final words were to damn us all."

"I wasn't sure if he was alive or dead, but in my heart I knew that Aramis was alive. Somehow I've always known.," she said. "Now that he's back, my father's anger has been building. You need to take him away from here. I don't know what my father will do but I think with Aramis gone, things will go back to how they were."

"But why?" asked Athos as the woman drew a breath. He reached out his hand and placed it on her knee to comfort her.

"Aramis," she began, "represents everything my father hates – compassion, wilfulness, sentiment, love. I think he sees Aramis as his antithesis. I'm frightened Athos. Please, take him from here. Save him. If you love him as I do, you will take him."

Athos was quiet, digesting all that had been said, warring with his own emotions. Rage, Disgust, Pity, and a need to protect his brother and this woman were all fighting for dominance. "I need to tell him," Athos said finally.

"No!" blurted Annabella. "You can't! You know what Aramis is like. If he thinks that we are in danger he will stop at nothing to save us. He will kill my father, and I will not have him hanged because of me. My son and I will be safe if Aramis never comes back here. Please Athos. You cannot tell him. Promise me you won't say anything until you're back and safe in Paris."

Athos looked at the desperate women, so like her brother. She would sacrifice herself, her freedom to protect him. In his heart Athos knew she was right, knew Aramis would do the same for her. That's what a sibling does. He would easily have given his life to save Thomas. And now, he thought, he would gladly offer his life if it meant saving Porthos or Aramis, and they would do the same.

Athos nodded slowly.

"Thank you," she gushed taking his hand. "I know you will keep him safe." They sat there for a moment, green eyes meeting blue, recognizing the same love and protection held within each other's gaze. A squeal and a bark of laughter had them looking up the beach as Rene ran towards them, hands fisted, Aramis and Porthos grinning behind him.

"Mamma!" he shouted, full of excitement. "Look what I have!" The boy opened his hands for his mother to examine his treasures.

"What beautiful shells!" she exclaimed. "Which one is for me?"

"This one," he said proudly holding up the white-spiralled cone.

"Beautiful," she responded. "That's the best one. Who is this other one for?" she asked, looking at the piece of sea glass clenched in his right hand.

The boy looked at the glass, considering it carefully. "Aramis," he announced decidedly, turning to face his uncle. Aramis dropped to his knee to face the boy, dark eyes full of emotion. "This way you have to promise to come back," he said simply. "You promised to teach me how to be a musketeer," his own dark eyes staring back at his uncle's, determined.

"I promise," said Aramis taking the shell from the boy. "Upon my honour as a musketeer," he said, sweeping off his hat and bowing to the boy.

Rene squealed with delight and tackled Aramis into the sand, the pair collapsing in a laughing heap.

"Not bad!" laughed Porthos. Athos couldn't smile, still troubled by his conversation with Annabella.

Annabella looked on, committing the scene to memory. She discreetly wiped away a tear.

oOo