One thing leads to another and nine months later little Henry comes along

"I've got one arm around her shoulders, the other wrapped around her leg, and I hear the midwife say the head's out, so I look-"

"And you turned so pale the midwife thought you might pass out on us," interjected Sylvie, looking up from her newborn son.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Athos quickly replied, his arm wrapped around Sylvie's shoulders while they sat next to each other on the parlour bench. Baby Drogo, exhausted from greeting their visitors, was resting at their feet. "No, instead I went and stroked his head, hardly believing what I was seeing. Then I saw Sylvie reaching a hand down so I guided it to our son's head, heard her go 'Oh!' and next thing I know she's hoisting him up into her arms."

"That certainly sounds like our Sylvie. Leave it to her to pull her own child out," said d'Artagnan.

Sylvie gave a bashful smile. "I wasn't even aware of what I was doing, really. I just wanted to see him."

"Well he's beautiful," said Constance. "Well done to the both of you."

Aramis watched as a beaming Athos and Sylvie came together for a brief kiss before looking back down at their son. He was overjoyed to see Athos so happy, and wished Porthos could have been there to see their brother so openly loving and affectionate after guarding his heart for so long.

"Seconded," Aramis added with a nod, smiling over at baby Raoul. "But might I be able to persuade you both to allow his uncle a closer look?" he asked, fingers itching to hold his new nephew.

MMMMMMMMMM

As much as she would have liked to have gone with the others to meet Raoul, Anne was not up for the journey, nor would she have wanted to leave Louis behind or have to arrange a big trip so the both of them could go. And so, with Aramis away, Anne sought the company of friends who remained in Paris. She'd just had a lovely visit from Elodie and Marie-Cessette, cooing over the baby girl's latest developments and doing her best to assuage the latest worries of the first-time mother.

Since Aramis had told Elodie of their relationship after they returned from the tour, Anne was also able to commiserate with the woman to some degree about being the wife of a soldier. Elodie's face had reddened when Anne brought it up, most likely wondering and worrying if Aramis had repeated the colourful choice of words she had spoken in her reaction. Anne, admittedly, had gotten a good laugh out of it when he told her, and enjoyed knowing that Elodie exercised such a vocabulary.

After Elodie and Marie-Cessette left, Anne asked her maids to leave the plates of little cakes and biscuits, and to bring a fresh pot of chocolate, making sure to lay a hand on her stomach as she did to remind them of her need for second helpings.

Once more chocolate had been brought, she held her cup in her hands and waited for her next guest to make her appearance, ruminating the whole while on how Milady de Winter had gone from being a threat to someone she considered a friend. Not a close friend, not yet at least, but after all she'd done for Anne and her family, after all the nights spent with her and Aramis playing cards or simply talking whilst perpetuating their ruse of Milady and Aramis' relationship, she certainly considered the woman to be more than someone who merely worked for her.

"I was just with Porthos' wife and daughter," she explained once Milady had arrived. "I hope you don't mind using her cup."

"Just so long as it was the wife's and not the baby's," Milady replied dryly as she took off her cloak.

"Oh, give me your hand," Anne quickly instructed, grabbing Milady's hand and pressing it to her belly where the baby was kicking. "Can you feel that?"

Milady's knitted eyebrows sprang up as she blinked down at their hands. "What a strange sensation."

"Strange and sometimes uncomfortable, but always wonderful." Squeezing Milady's hand, she let go so the woman could sit down in the chair next to her in front of the fireplace. "Aramis was able to feel it only recently. I nearly had to pry his hands off this morning, he was so reluctant to leave."

"And where has our esteemed First Minister gone off to?"

"Athos and Sylvie welcomed a baby boy a couple weeks ago. Aramis, Constance, and d'Artagnan went to see them."

Something flickered on Milady's face as she stared at her. "Athos has a son?"

"Yes, they're calling him Raoul," Anne informed her. "I wonder if it is a family name."

"His uncle," Milady answered to her surprise. "He left him his sword in his will," she added in a distant voice, her gaze having fallen to the floor.

"Oh," said Anne. "I don't think Aramis knew that."

"Wouldn't surprise me," Milady replied in her normal voice. "Athos likes to pretend that his life before the musketeers doesn't exist, that he just sprung out of Tréville's head, fully-grown and armed, like Athena."

Anne chuckled at the image. "And how is it that you know of his past?"

Milady's green eyes were piercing when they met hers. "Because I was a part of it."

MMMMMMMMMM

Sylvie took her son back and went upstairs when it was time for her to nurse Raoul, and once d'Artagnan started discussing the captaincy with Athos, Aramis went outside.

Resting his forearms on the paddock fence, he sighed, and felt for the plait within his leather band. A few seconds later he heard the door close and then the crunch of footsteps on the grass.

"What's got you out here looking so glum?" Constance asked as she came up next to him.

He glanced over at her. "I'm overjoyed for them, I really am, and I already love my godson to bits…"

Constance quirked an eyebrow. "Is that title official? I don't think d'Artagnan knows that, or Porthos."

"Well I am First Minister, I think that gives me some precedence," he explained with an exaggerated raise of his chin. "They'll just have to wait for Athos and Sylvie to have more children."

"Oh, have Athos and Sylvie agreed to that too?"

They laughed together for several seconds and then Aramis grew quiet again, the thoughts that brought him out here returning to the forefront of his mind. He sighed and rubbed the bottom of his shoe against the ground. "I just can't help but think of Anne. Porthos helped bring Marie-Cessette into the world, Athos held Sylvie in his arms and watched his son be born, and I...I'll have to stay away. I can't be there."

"No, you can't," Constance conceded. "But I can." Aramis' head snapped up to look at her. "If she wants me there, that is."

With a dismissive shake of his head, he turned to Constance and clasped her shoulders. "She'd be relieved to have you by her side, as would I."

She gave him a small smile before looking to the side and biting her lip as she nodded. "And I suppose d'Artagnan will be staying with you then, or bringing news from me."

His hands went to rest on his hips and he tilted his head in consideration. "I suppose."

Constance sighed. "Then I'll have to ask Rochelle to help Elodie look after the girls," she said more to herself.

Aramis frowned. "What do you mean?"

She looked up at him. "We were going to wait until tomorrow to tell you all, but when we go to Douai, d'Artagnan and I will be stopping in the village to collect Nicolette and bring her back to Paris."

And suddenly things started falling into place. "So you're the mysterious benefactor Valerius wrote to me about. The one who's been sending money for the wet nurse."

"Well, I'd been saving what little money I got after Bonacieux died, and with d'Artagnan's promotion we were able to afford one. Nicolette had been so weak though, we didn't want to say anything at first and get everyone's hopes up, but I'm sure Valerius has also told you that she's gotten much stronger since she's no longer being hand-fed goat's milk. She should be well enough for the journey to Paris now."

"You've found a good wet nurse in Paris then?"

"Mhm, she was living right under our noses."

"Elodie," he supplied.

Constance smiled widely in confirmation. "D'Artagnan and I were talking with Elodie about wanting to adopt Nicolette and having to look for a wet nurse, and Elodie volunteered. We weren't even thinking of asking her, but she wants to repay us for taking care of her and Marie-Cessette, and for letting them move into my old house."

"And this way, you'll be able to see Nicolette whenever you want."

She nodded before taking a deep breath and looking out over the paddock. "D'Artagnan has always wanted children," she stated. "I've gone back and forth on the matter, but when I held Nicolette...it just felt right, that we could be her family."

He grinned. "Constance, she'll be the luckiest child in the world to have you and d'Artagnan as parents," he declared, and took her into his arms, hugging her tightly.

Hearing the door open once more, he turned to see d'Artagnan walking towards them, following a bounding Baby Drogo.

Aramis crouched down to pet the lanky puppy, but immediately sprang back up once d'Artagnan reached them. "Come here," he said, and pulled d'Artagnan in for a hug.

"She told you then?" he heard d'Artagnan ask over his shoulder.

"Little d'Artagnan is going to be a father," he exclaimed, stepping back and laughing as he reached a hand up and ruffled d'Artagnan's hair.

"Hey!" d'Artagnan retorted, swatting Aramis' hand away, though he laughed along with Aramis and Constance.

"Does Anne know?" he asked Constance, who shook her head. He grinned. "She's in for a big surprise." He looked down at Baby Drogo sniffing at his feet, and picked him up, scratching the puppy behind his ears. "A very big surprise."

MMMMMMMMMM

She was sitting at her desk when Aramis returned a few days later, a smile spreading across her face at the sight of him.

"I was starting to worry," she said, standing up. In his last letter, he had estimated that he would be back by the afternoon, and it was now approaching early evening.

He shut the door to the passageway and closed the distance between them, stepping into her outstretched arms. They hugged each other tightly before he pulled his head back to kiss her cheek and then her lips. "Sorry, we got a bit delayed leaving Douai," he apologized. His hands fell to her hips while she rested her own on the crooks of his arms, her fingers lightly gripping his sleeves.

"The children?"

"You could say that."

"And I'm sure it was hard to leave Saint-Gobain as well."

"Yes, but, as wonderful as seeing Athos and his little family was, it made me miss my own," he admitted, and leaned in to capture her lips once more. And while they stood there embracing each other, her stomach pressed against his, the baby gave a swift kick.

"Oh," they said in unison, looking down at her belly between them.

"He's happy to hear your voice again," she cheerfully translated.

Bending over, Aramis rubbed her stomach. "I missed you too, little one," he said, and punctuated the statement with a kiss. "I can't wait to meet you," he added earnestly, and pressed two more kisses to her belly while she ran her fingers through his hair, her heart swelling with love.

"Where's Louis?" Aramis asked, standing straight.

"Out on his pony. He should be coming in soon though."

"Good, because I have a gift for him." Lifting his jacket away, he reached into his inside coat pocket and then presented her with a somewhat large grey feather. "I'm going to charge him with it's safekeeping," he said as she ran her fingers down the feather. "And then he can put it in the hat I'm having made for his birthday." He grinned. "Then he'll truly be a musketeer."

And then she started crying.

Aramis' face fell. "What's wrong?"

Her words caught in her throat, and she could only shake her head as she gestured with her free hand at him, then in the direction of Louis' bedroom, and finally waved her hand up and down at herself.

"Is the baby making you cry?" he correctly surmised. It wouldn't be the first time it happened.

She nodded, and taking her hand away from her mouth, stepped into his arms, whereupon he immediately began rubbing a soothing hand up and down her back.

"I'm sorry," she said once she started to calm down. She took a step back and dabbed at her eyes after exchanging the feather for his handkerchief. "It's just that he wants to be like you so much and he is but he can't know and the baby makes me cry so easily," she explained with a stomp of her foot at the end, annoyed over not being able to control her tears.

Sniffling, she took his hands, and began leading him over to the chair in front of the fireplace. "Come, you must tell me all about little Raoul."

"I'm so happy for them," she said once Aramis had finished recounting his time at Saint-Gobain. "And how are the children at the monastery?"

"They're doing well, the puppies too." He smiled. "You were all Luc wanted to talk about though."

"I hope you didn't tease him."

"Why would I tease him?" he innocently replied. "I finally have someone who wants to help me compose songs and sonnets about you."

She blushed. She'd missed his charm.

"How were things here?" he asked brightly.

"Oh, terribly boring with you being gone," she answered.

"Not even any interesting gossip from Milady?"

She swallowed past the lump that had suddenly formed in her throat. "She told me, about her and Athos, that they once lived as husband and wife," she said, and watched his gaze fall.

He nodded, and shifted in his seat. "Porthos and I knew that he'd joined the Musketeers because the woman he loved had died. That was all he ever let on until the Cardinal's attempt on your life. After that he had to reveal who she was, that she had survived the hanging."

Anne shuddered as she thought of the marks the rope had left on Milady's neck. Even now she could feel Rochefort's cold garrote against her own neck, and had to resist the urge to raise her hand and brush her fingers along its ghostly imprint.

"I didn't want to believe her," she admitted, "that Athos would have condemned his own wife to death so easily." It was something Louis had done to her, and she would have never thought Athos to have had such a thing in common with her late husband.

"If there's one thing I do know about that whole ordeal, it's that his decision was anything but easy. It haunted him in the years that followed; it still haunts him, I'm sure. But he thought he was doing right by the law."

"And she was defending herself from a man who tried to force her," she lightly countered.

"Thomas was his brother, and she had lied to Athos from the beginning about who she was and where she came from. In an unbelievable situation, her lying about what had happened made the most sense to him."

She mulled over Aramis' words. She hadn't known Thomas, and she did know Milady to be a liar and a seductress, but she also knew what it was like when a man you trusted turned on you, and the lengths he would go to have you. "If I had killed Rochefort instead of injuring him, should the King have condemned me as a murderess?"

Aramis recoiled. "Of course not. You-"

"Lied to Rochefort about what I did with the crucifix he had given me," she pressed. "About my relationship with you."

Deflating somewhat as he exhaled, Aramis set his drink down and leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. "Ana, you did what you had to do to protect yourself and your loved ones, and I believe Milady did the same. I don't think what Athos did was right, and he has to live with the decisions he made for the rest of his life. You and I both know though, that Athos is not the same man that even we once knew."

"No," she agreed. "He definitely is not. And she's changed too."

Aramis leaned back into his chair with a sigh. "If only she had told him the truth about who she was before they married, or even soon after; I'm sure he would have forgiven her, and then he would have been more likely to believe her about Thomas. The confrontation between her and Thomas might not have even happened then."

Anne thought of her decision to make Louis believe that he was the father of her son. She had a choice to come clean to him about what happened at the convent and then ask him to still proclaim Aramis' child as his own, but she was scared. Scared that he did not love her enough to forgive such a transgression, and scared that he would not accept her child. She shook her head. "She was scared. She didn't want to risk losing the love that she had."

MMMMMMMMMM

"Do you know what you want to name the baby?" he asked her once they had settled into bed for the night.

"I would have loved to name him René, after you," she said, stroking her fingers along the back of his hand as she thought of other names she could use. Louis had also once talked about naming a son Henry after his father, and perhaps it would be a wise name to choose considering their situation, but sometimes, when she thought of her lost son, she called him Henry, and didn't want to in any way replace him.

"What about Alfonso? Or we could name him for one of your other brothers who've passed," he offered.

"I think I'd like to name him after my father," she decided. "Though it would have to be the French version. Of course Louis' brother was also named Philippe, but that-what's the matter?" she asked, cutting herself off at the sight of Aramis' pale face and wide eyes.

"You know?"

"Know what?"

"About Philippe," he said, still staring at her.

"What do you mean? Why wouldn't I know? He practically lived here these past few years before he was killed." Surely Aramis had seen him before at the palace.

Blinking, he shook his head, and ran a hand through his hair. "Nevermind I...was thinking of someone else."

"Who?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Aramis, the look you had on your face matters."

He rubbed his forehead in contemplation before finally sighing. "Do you remember when Marie de Medici came here, over seven years ago, claiming she was being pursued by assassins?"

"Vaguely."

"She was planning to stage a coup."

"How? To claim Louis was unfit so she could be regent again?"

"To be regent again, yes, but not to Louis." He took a deep breath. "To an infant named Henry, the son of her eldest son...Philippe."

"But…Louis was the eldest child. Marie had no other sons before him," Anne replied, not understanding why she was having to point out something that was common knowledge, the reason why she was a queen and their son was now king.

He looked into her eyes and held her gaze. "Because the existence of his older twin brother had been kept secret."

MMMMMMMMMM

"So, you mean to say that even if I had Louis' trueborn son, the child still would have illegitimately ascended to the throne since the son of the elder brother still lives?" Anne let out an incredulous laugh. She covered her eyes with her hands as her laughter bubbled and became more hysteric until there were tears streaming from the corners of her eyes and she was gasping for air.

"Ana? Are you all right?"

Putting a hand over her mouth to try and stem her laughter, she shook her head yes. "All this worry," she began in between gasping breaths, "about putting an illegitimate heir on the throne. None of my sons would have been the rightful ruler." Wiping away her tears once her breathing started to calm down, she turned to look at Aramis. "Agnes and Philippe, did they have any other children?"

"No, Philippe was killed soon after Henry was born."

"And where are Agnes and Henry now?" she asked, regaining her composure.

"I don't know. Somewhere outside of France."

"You haven't heard from them since they left?"

Aramis shook his head. "It was too dangerous. Marie wanted to use them and the Cardinal would have killed them; they had to disappear. You have nothing to fear from Agnes though; she is a kind, loving woman, who just wanted a simple life for her and her son."

They fell quiet then, and he wondered how Agnes and Henry were doing. He prayed they were safe, wherever they were.

He glanced back over at Anne. "Do you think there's a chance you could be carrying twins? After all, they couldn't tell with Marie."

"Two babies in there?" she replied with a raise of her eyebrows. She looked down at her belly. "I'm big, but not that big. They'd be awfully cramped otherwise, don't you think?"

"Well, why don't we ask?" He shifted down the bed, eager to lighten things up, and placed his hands on her stomach. He leaned his face close to her belly. "Kick once if there's one of you, twice if you've got company."

"And if there's no kicking?"

"Then we let sleeping babies lie."

Anne smiled fondly at him and gave a light shake of her head as they both settled down to sleep. Laying her head on the pillow, she sobered, "I do wish I could give you more children."

Reaching a hand out, he brushed his fingers along the side of her face. "You have given me more than I could have dreamed of."

The smile she gave him was small, but a dimple still appeared, and he leaned over to kiss it before laying down on his back. He exhaled deeply and turned his head towards her. "I know you think it's a boy, but what would you name our daughter?"

Anne answered without hesitation: "Constance, of course."

A/N: Anne did have an aunt named Constance (who married the King of Poland after her sister, another Anne of Austria, died)