5
Hello everyone! Apologies again for the delay, I'm actually having internet problems and thus cannot update when I would prefer.
Again, thank you for all the love! It makes my knees weak!
When I read the lovely prompt from QuestionableSanity on AO3 I simply could not resist. Thank you so much for it, and all the details! I'm sorry you were so exhausted from your experience and hope you recovered promptly. Enjoy my friend, this is for you.
…
Aramis stood obediently behind the nobles as they descended from the ship and onto the dock. The wife of one of the noblemen gave him a shy smile and waved at him before she turned her back. He smiled back, forced and polite, because he had to. He had to keep them happy, he had to entertain them and he had to keep them safe. The journey on the boat was merely two weeks but he felt as if it were two months. He had been forced to entertain the wives when they flirted shamelessly with him. He politely declined their offers for him to take them to bed (there's not much distance to run from an angry husband on board a ship); he used the excuse of not having his own room. None the less he felt thoroughly used. There's not much to do on a ship if you do not find the sight of the sea appealing, thus the nobles complained endlessly until they found something with which to entertain themselves.
And so Aramis had found himself purposefully losing at games of cards, watching the ridiculous plays that the nobles' children had performed and fake- duelling the two other musketeers that had been sent with him. Not only was he exhausted from being an entertainer, one teenage girl in particular had decided that he should be on her beck and call every time she decided to glance over the edge of the ship to look for dolphins (which was often).
"If I fall will you catch me?" She had asked, looking at Aramis with big dreamy eyes, clearly quite taken with him.
"Of course, madam." He would reply politely, every time.
At one point she did pretend she was about to leap overboard just so that Aramis would run to her and grab her by the waste, pulling her back down. She then pretended to swoon and clutched onto him. Aramis gently but firmly extracted her arms from around him and sent her to her parents. When she was out of ear shot he groaned loudly, wondering if the trip was ever going to come to an end.
He didn't understand why the captain had not at least sent Athos and Porthos with him. At least they would have been able to keep him company. As he watched to nobles get off the ship he suddenly felt a deep yearning for his brothers' company. He had kept this longing at bay for most of those two weeks (one week to their city and one back) but now he was starting to feel his control slip. He swallowed and forced his body to stiffen, knowing that neither the King nor Treville would appreciate it if he crumbled in front of the King's important political friends.
It was not only the tiresome act of keeping people happy though. He had been expected to perform some manual labour on the ship. Such as sweeping the room he was sharing with about ten other men, as well as scrubbing parts of the ship for about four hours a day. He was expected to wake at sunset to assist in cleaning the ship before the nobles woke. Every. Single. Day. For. Two. Weeks. Not that waking up was the problem; he had received hardly any sleep because the hammock which was assigned to him was extremely uncomfortable and the jostling of the ship did not help either.
The salt water was in his hair and his lips were dry and cracked. The food which was served to him on the ship was often fowl and he could hardly stomach more than five bites at a time. Thus, his uniform was sitting a little more loosely than when he left. He wanted a nice warm bath, to rid his body of the chill from the sea air. He was hungry for a real meal and longed for a decent night's rest in a proper bed.
Watching the backs of the nobles leaving his care would have been a massive relief were it not for the fact that he still had to journey all the way back to Paris, which would take about five days. He was lonely. Frightfully so. The other two musketeers that were on board with him were younger, new recruits and shared a bond quite like he did with Athos and Porthos. Therefore they often ventured on their own, leaving Aramis once their daily duties were complete. At least now the nobles were being escorted to the King's Palace by a separate guard and Aramis could sleep in an inn before starting his journey back. He knew there was no set date for his arrival and that he would have to stop each night on his journey to either camp or find lodging but he wished he could stay in bed for three days, under the covers and far away from the world. The other two musketeers were starting their journey back at once, and though they offered for Aramis to come with, he knew his body would not cope with being on a horse now.
He grimaced at the thought. Was he getting old? Too old to keep up with new recruits? He snubbed his musings with the realisation that they had done less than half the work he had. It was not their fault, the nobles simply demanded his attention over the others.
Aramis looked apprehensively at the broad ramp connecting the ship to the dock. He just had to descend it and find an inn, which would lead to a bed, then he could let go. He swallowed and flinched at how raw his throat was. All the salty air and forced laughter at the nobles' terrible jokes had left his throat sore and overused. He cleared his throat and descended, forcing himself to control his legs and not give in… not yet.
Once he was on the dock he began his walk down the street of the city. He watched the people ahead of him. They moved around him, bumped into him as if he was invisible. He envied the way their legs moved determinedly around the busy street, strong, steady. He stared ahead blankly but came to a halt when he noticed two men a few meters ahead of him. They were standing there, in the middle of the road, watching him, waiting for him, smiling at him. Athos and Porthos were there, for him, waiting.
Aramis blinked in disbelief. Was he hallucinating? Why would they be there? Why would they be five days away from Paris? Aramis began to walk towards them, not taking his eyes off their faces. His body suddenly ached with the need to feel their arms around him. To feel safe and let go.
As he neared them he noticed the smiles simultaneously fall off their faces, like the sun dropping from the sky. It was comical and unnerving at the same time. Why did they suddenly look to unhappy? Something must have happened… why else would they travel all this way?
They started walking towards him determinedly and when they reached each other they were both staring at him as if he had just announced he had fallen in love with a mermaid on his journey. Neither of them said anything as they glanced at one another then back at him.
"Wh…What," Aramis tried. He cleared his throat, "What.. you doing here?"
He flinched at how awful he sounded.
"We're here for you Aramis," Athos said, his voice sounded strange, almost as if he were straining himself, "We thought you would want to travel back to Paris with us. Treville granted us leave."
Porthos smiled at him, forced and painful, "We were getting restless and Treville was losing his patience with us. He kept saying he would never separate us again. Claimed Athos and I were 'acting out'. He sent us here to meet you."
Aramis frowned at them, his vision was starting to lose its focus, "You're really here?" He asked because he was not entirely sure himself.
Athos rested a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it tightly, "Of course."
The relief Aramis felt must have shown plainly on his face as Porthos promptly opened his arms. Aramis stared at his face, then his chest and let out a soft whine as Athos nudged him gently towards Porthos. Aramis all but flung himself into Porthos' waiting arms and sighed with relief when Porthos tightened his hold on Aramis. The hug was so soothing and warm that Aramis let a sob escape his lips. He felt Athos rubbing his back gently and realised that Porthos was the only thing keeping him standing.
When Porthos tried to gently pull away Aramis clung to him with his remaining strength and the larger man let out a soft chuckle.
"Let us get you into an inn yeah?" Porthos said softly and Athos promptly squeezed his shoulder again.
It took all of Aramis' willpower to pull away and stand on his own legs. He tried to answer in agreement but all that came out was a strained, choking sound and he merely resorted to nodding instead.
They lead him to an inn. Athos had one hand under Aramis' arm and Porthos had a hand under the other. People glanced at him as they walked; obviously thinking he had had too much to drink. When he tried to voice as much a very pitiful sound came through his throat instead of the words and both Athos and Porthos squeezed his arms in response. They took up a lot of space, the three of them walking next to each other, and if anyone came too close or voiced their annoyance Athos would give them a burning glare, hot enough to melt the snow in the middle of winter.
The inn was warmer than outside but Aramis found that he had begun to shake none the less. Athos stepped forward to get them a room and Porthos promptly put an arm around Aramis' shoulders, rubbing his hand up and down in an attempt to warm him.
The trip up the stairs was strenuous and by the time they were halfway up, Porthos slid his arm back around Aramis, under his arms, and bent down to lift his legs. Being carried by Porthos was immediately soothing but Aramis did not voice this, could not even voice it if he wanted to.
"Hmmf…" Porthos mumbled and looked down at Aramis in his arms and gave a gentle squeeze. His brows were furrowed and Aramis stared up at him, anchored by his familiar friendly face.
"What is it?" He heard Athos ask from a few steps above them, he sounded worried.
"He's lost weight." Porthos stated, not taking his eyes away from Aramis', "You have haven't you?"
Aramis tried to answer but couldn't. He swallowed and groaned in frustration when he opened his mouth and nothing came out.
Porthos' expression softened instantly and he smiled down at Aramis, "Don't worry. Athos and I will get you back to your usual self in no time. Won't we?" His eyes moved from Aramis' and up to Athos'.
Aramis turned to look at Athos who was staring at him with more concern Aramis had ever seen on his face. He must have truly looked terrible, but they really didn't need to worry so much.
"Of course," Athos said, "We are going to take care of you, Aramis."
Aramis felt warmth emerge in his belly. To see Athos looking at anyone with such open care was always a rare sight to behold, but when it was directed at him he always felt like he was seeing something in Athos that hardly anyone ever did. It made him feel… special.
Their room was large. It had two double beds and a wooden bath in one corner. The beds looked so warm and inviting that Aramis' heart fluttered in anticipation. But there was one thing he longed for more. He wanted to be clean. He wanted the sea out of his hair, off his skin. He wanted to feel warm water, not the splash of freezing waves. When Porthos gently lowered him into a sitting position on one of the beds Aramis looked longingly behind him at the empty bath.
Porthos kneeled in front of Aramis and started undoing the laces of his boots. Aramis felt a hand ruffle his tangled hair and looked up to Athos who was studying him carefully.
"What is it?" Athos asked softly, "What do you need?"
Aramis looked back at the bath, "I… I nee… cle… pl… please." Aramis groaned in annoyance at his inability to form a clear sentence and placed a hand over his face in embarrassment.
He felt Porthos rest a hand on his leg, "Hey, none of that now. No beating yourself up alright? Just take it slow and easy. Athos and I aren't going anywhere."
Athos gently removed Aramis' hand from his face and swiped some of the salty hair out of his eyes, "A bath? Would you like to bath?"
Aramis' eyes widened in surprise at Athos understanding him. He nodded vigorously and Athos smiled, "I'll be right back." He said and left the room.
Aramis looked at Porthos who was now undoing his jacket. Porthos smiled at him and planted a soft kiss to Aramis' forehead, "Let us take care of you yeah?"
Aramis nodded and slouched forward a little. He felt as though he could sleep right there, in his sitting position. The comfort of just being in the same room as Porthos was seeping through his skin like warm tea on a winter's night. Athos returned to the room along with the inn keeper, his wife and son. They were all carrying buckets of hot water and Aramis looked at them longingly. The innkeeper and Athos both made three more trips until it was just the three of them in the room again.
Athos and Porthos filled the bath with the last two buckets of hot water and Aramis began to get undressed. Athos and Porthos waited for him patiently by the bath and Aramis could have sworn he saw Porthos stick his arm in the water to make sure it wasn't too hot first. He removed his small clothes and stepped towards the bath. Porthos was holding out a hand to help him get in and when he put the first foot in, he sighed in deep relief. Porthos chuckled and helped him in the rest of the way, gently lowering him into the water. There was no shame when it came to this, they had all seen each other nude; whether from injury or being forced to occupy tents together during missions.
With that in mind, Aramis could not understand why his brothers were looking at him with frowns on their faces. He looked at them curiously and watched them exchange a glance.
"We can see your ribs, Aramis." Athos provided, sensing Aramis' confusion, "Did they not provide you with enough food?"
He sounded angry and sad and shared another glance with Porthos. Aramis bit his lip and shook his head.
"Food was just that bad huh? Or you just lost your appetite?" Porthos asked and tilted his head when Aramis nodded to confirm what he said.
"I bet they kept you busy too didn't they?" Porthos asked and it was not a question that needed an answer, "They put you under a lot of stress, huh?"
Aramis looked down and sighed. His brothers could read him like an open book.
"Never mind," Athos said, "You're with us now and we will watch over you. Relax and rest your body."
Athos' words made Aramis wonder how he had even lasted that long without the two of them. He leaned back in the bath and closed his eyes. His expression must have been that of pure bliss because he heard Porthos chuckle. He opened his eyes, looked at his brothers and smiled properly for the first time in two weeks.
"I… Tha… thank.." He tried and frowned at the strain it took just to make those half-words.
"Hush," Athos said, "There's no need to thank us, just enjoy yourself and settle back. I'm going to make a fire so that you don't step into the cold from your bath, we don't want you getting sick now. Then I'm going to get some food for us alright?"
Aramis nodded and smiled his agreement, it sounded like a good plan, wonderful even. Aramis merely sat there soaking in the warmth of the water and Porthos knelt down beside the bath and watched the now growing fire. Aramis smiled, Athos was very strategical when it came to caring for someone, a man of action. Porthos on the other hand was very physical, keeping his proximity regular, not leaving Aramis' side until he was absolutely sure he would be alright. They were the perfect balance, both caring just as much as each other but in their own ways.
Once Aramis was warm down to his toes he decided he needed to do something with the mop on his head. He gradually lowered himself into the water more and more until he was completely submerged. The sensation was pleasant for the split second it lasted before Porthos grabbed him by the arms and pulled him back up.
"Aramis?" He said, looking startled, "What the hell are you doing?"
Aramis looked at him, confused at first, then realised he should have probably given Porthos some kind of warning before going under. He smiled apologetically and tapped his hair with his hands.
Porthos' expression changed from confused to understanding and he smiled and shook his head.
"You're going to be the death of me." He chuckled, "You want me to wash your hair?"
Aramis nodded and smiled and Porthos gently began to soap up Aramis' hair. Athos chose that moment to enter the room and smiled at the two of them. He was carrying a tray with three bowls of stew that smelled absolutely heavenly and Aramis felt his stomach grumble. Porthos was massaging his head and if he wasn't so hungry he would have fallen asleep right there.
"Are you almost done?" Athos asked, "I wouldn't want this to get cold."
"Almost," Porthos answered and begun rinsing Aramis' hair, "I swear a mermaid came out of his hair just now."
Aramis giggled and Athos shook his head, smiling. Once Aramis' hair was thoroughly clean of soap, and more importantly salt, Porthos helped him stand up in the bath. The sudden vertical orientation of his body made him dizzy and if it weren't for Porthos gripping him tightly he would have fallen rather ungracefully out of the tub.
"Easy," Porthos said, "I've got you."
Athos brought a towel and wrapped it around Aramis after he stepped out the bath. Once he was dry they helped him dress into his night clothes and Porthos kept his iron grip on Aramis the entire time.
"You alright Réne?" Porthos asked once they were done. His use of Aramis' first name meant he was being dead serious and would not welcome any lying.
Aramis looked at him sadly and tried to answer, "I… I will … I will be."
"Yes you will," Athos said as if his word was final. And it was, it always was.
They helped Aramis into the middle of one of the beds. Athos handed him a bowl of stew and he and Porthos sat on either side of him. The stew was delicious and warmed him up from the inside, where the bath water did not reach. He managed to eat most of it but simply could not finish it for the sheer exhaustion that had been seeping into his eyes and mind all day was finally starting to take over.
Someone, he wasn't sure who, took his bowl away from him and he was gently lowered back against a pillow. He looked to his right and saw Athos go to the other bed to pull the blankets off it. As he was throwing the extra blankets on their bed, Aramis looked to his other side to find Porthos lying beside him, watching him intently with a warm smile on his face. Aramis rolled over and all but landed on top of Porthos, resting his head on his chest. This was what he needed, what he had been waiting for. Now, he could let go.
Porthos chuckled and wrapped his arms around Aramis, keeping him warm and protected. Before Aramis' eyelids won their battle he felt Athos climb in behind him and rest a hand on his back, rubbing warm circles as he had done earlier that day. Aramis sighed happily and closed his eyes. His brothers were with him, he was warm, he was safe. He was not alone.