The Heart Asks Pleasure First

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Chapter 1

What light is light, if Silvia be not seen?
What joy is joy, if Silvia be not by?

- William Shakespeare: The Two Gentlemen of Verona

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Athos downed his cup of wine and put it on the table. He reached for a document he had been reading for the last half an hour. It contained the list of the newest cadet recruits, and he was going over the notes D'Artagnan made about each of them. The Captain watched and took a major part in their assessment daily, but he found his friend's and one of the best musketeers' s advice very helpful since he trusted his judgement and impartiality.

The selection process took his mind off the troubling state of Paris that he and his friends found themselves in when they returned from the war. Athos couldn't ignore the effect that the King's negligence had on his country and its people, stricken by poverty and hunger on every corner. Especially since the events in the refugee camp, he often ended in a state of questioning the righteousness of his loyalty to the Crown. His head was still strictly set on serving the King to his last breath, but lately, his heart and his honest nature couldn't fight off the feeling that things should be different. Athos didn't like being torn; clarity of his direction was what had helped him to keep sane and focused since he became a musketeer. However, since returning from war, he felt that nothing would ever be the same again, and he couldn't shake off a silent foreboding of a dark shadow approaching Paris and the whole of France.

There was a slither of light cutting through the veil of darkness, though, and it was something the Captain couldn't shake off either. Ever since he had set foot in the refugee camp, his thoughts had been returning to the face of the feisty, smart, brave and pretty woman, who kept crossing his path ever since their first encounter. It was the first time in years that Athos found an irresistible urge to let a woman into his life. Perhaps not into all of its secret and dark corners. but at least to its wide and sun-lit rooms…

Athos recalled their last meeting, when she came to the garrison to thank him for his help defending the war veterans. He chuckled at the thought of Aramis's disappointed face when he found out she had not come to see him but the Captain. His friend of all others was the one viewed as irresistible by women, and yet, he had to bow out in this case. Then, Athos's mind drifted off to the memory of the big, dark eyes observing him with a twinkle of mischief and attraction.

If he was honest with himself, the attraction was mutual, especially when remembering her kiss at their parting in the camp. It came without warning but he couldn't forget the way his heart skipped a beat and his mind went blank for a moment, trying to fight off something he hadn't felt in years… Their next meeting at Christophe's tavern and the events the occasion had unleashed were still fresh in his mind, and her words from before sounded ever louder in his head, like the beat of a drum, calling the soldiers to battle.

You know where I am…
Yes, he knew, and with every passing day since their last encounter, his wish to see her again was getting stronger.

The Captain sighed, shaking his head, his eyebrows knitted with the attempt of trying to focus on the work in front of him again. Wherever his mind might have wandered off occasionally, his sense of duty always prevailed and he was reluctant for anything to change it. Therefore, a sudden knock on the doorframe almost annoyed him as he lifted his head from the list. He forgot he had left the door open when he entered his office.

"Sorry to disturb you," D'Artagnan apologised, seeing Athos's tense expression, "but Treville asked me to accompany him at the King's sword practice. I just wanted to let you know I'll be gone probably for the rest of the afternoon."

The look at the Captain's face relaxed a bit, and a small smile followed.
"Treville's subtle way of saying he would like someone else to share the King's temper when he loses a duel," he remarked.
"Or making sure he won't," said Aramis, leaning against the doorframe behind his younger friend, making them all chuckle.
"Go. There's nothing we can't handle alone here," Athos said then with a smile, still with his elbows on the table.
"Thank you. I'll let you know how well I defended the musketeers' honour. Hopefully, I'll still be one of them by the end of the day." D'Artagnan grinned before leaving his comrades alone.

Athos chuckled, a soft smile lingering on his face. His fondness for the young Gascon had grown almost into a paternal affection. Perhaps it was that D'Artagnan reminded him of himself in his younger years or the values they shared. Either way, their deep friendship was one of the few things that sustained Athos over the years, especially during their time serving in the war. Yet again, he was reminded of how lucky he had been, having him, as well as Aramis and Porthos in his life.

"You seemed pretty intense before," Aramis spoke when he approached his friend.
Athos sighed and ran his hands over his face. His intention to finish the list read-through vanished like smoke over a dying fire.
"I've been trying to read D'Artagnan's notes on the new cadets. They are quite thorough but helpful," he explained, hoping it would be enough, keeping his eyes down, afraid of revealing his inner turmoil.
"There's the word, my friend, trying." The ever-observant Aramis wouldn't be fooled.

Their eyes locked, and Athos knitted his brows in frustration again.
"Yes, before you both interrupted me," he tried to salvage whatever was possible, just to avoid revealing the truth. Why can't he just leave it?

Aramis sat on the table edge and looked at his friend over his shoulder, his eyebrows raised, amusement playing on his face.
"With all due respect, Captain, you should know I am not one to be played a fool." He folded his arms on his chest.
Athos groaned. "I really don't have time for this now…"
"Of course, you don't. You rather be brooding about her alone," Aramis added, mischief twinkling in his eyes.

Athos stared at him for a moment, then leaned against the back of his chair. He knew there was no way of escaping the discussion anymore. Aramis was a very good people-reader. He sighed in defeat.

"I've watched you in the last few days and I know that look on your face every time you think no one can see you," Aramis explained. "Your eyes used to be full of melancholy in your times of brooding, but they are very different now. There is a sparkle of life in them I have never seen before. And I would bet all my former female acquaintances on the fact that it's not Milady de Winter you've been thinking of ever since we have set foot in the refugee camp."

Athos watched him for a moment longer before speaking calmly but frowning.
"Has anyone ever told you that you can be quite annoying sometimes?"
"Thank you! I hear it every day, especially from you," Aramis quipped, grinning. "But that's beside the point."
"What is the point?" Athos asked, slightly perplexed.
"The point is she likes you - I still can't understand why - and you like her, so instead of sitting here and pretending to work, you should get your bottom out of here and run straight to the camp to do something about it."

Aramis's amused look was Athos's undoing – despite remaining still, his lips twitched, unable to contain his own amusement.
"I should have left you in the monastery," he said, pretending annoyance, his eyes twinkling though.
"True, but who would look after your amorous life then?" Aramis grinned.
"Exactly my point."

Both men held the look for a moment before laughing. Athos stood up from his desk and reached for his sword, attaching it to its usual place. Aramis patted his shoulder as his friend nodded and walked out, following his friend's advice and his own heart.

"Women… Still a strange choice," Aramis mused into the empty room before shaking his head, with a smile, and leaving the Captain's quarters as well.

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