I wish his father could share these precious moments

Everything hurt.

Through bleary eyes Anne saw Delorme hold her son up to her briefly before passing him over to Dame Perrone, who took him over to a table to be cleaned up and examined. All she had seen really was a flash of purple-red before he had been enveloped in a white cloth and then the bodies of the midwives blocked her view of the table; she only knew he was there for certain since he continued to cry. She had latched onto the sound the second she heard it, his cry restarting her heart and setting off a mantra of "He's here. Alive" with the words repeating in her head in time with her heartbeat.

"Just have to wait for the afterbirth now, Majesty," Delorme reminded her, and in the back of her mind she knew it was important, knew that she wasn't out of the woods yet, but she couldn't find herself to care, all that mattered was that her son was breathing.

Constance had let go of one of her hands and was rubbing her arm up and down while joyfully congratulating her. "You did it, Majesty!" Constance said into her ear before pressing a kiss into her hair. "You did it!"

Anne wanted to thank her for all her support, but all she had the energy to do at the moment was to squeeze the hand she was still holding on to.

She groaned when the afterbirth was delivered a few minutes later, and then sank back against Constance, her bones feeling like jelly. Her maids fluttered about her, dabbing her face and offering her water, but she shook them off. "I want to see him," she said wearily.

"Oi, Her Majesty gave you an order, and clearly the prince wants her too," Constance brusquely commanded when it didn't seem like Anne's request would be fulfilled.

Heads turned to look at the midwives, who looked at each other before returning their attention to the baby. She saw them pick up the ends of the cloth to wrap her son and then Dame Peronne bent over slightly to lift him up.

As the woman walked over with the bundle, Constance moved to lean around Anne, and still supporting her, helped her sit up more.

"A fine boy, Your Majesty," Dame Peronne said loudly over the child's cries as she placed him in Anne's outstretched arms.

"Oh. Oh hello, my darling." She cradled him against her chest, a fresh wave of tears sliding down her face. "Shh, you're all right now, I've got you," she cooed as she brushed her thumb against his cheek. He started to calm down then, and after a few seconds he quieted. "That's right," she smiled, her heart lifting as she drank in the sight of her son, "I'm your Mama." She ran a hand over the thick dark hair that covered his head. "Look at all that hair. Constance, look."

"He'll be the spitting image of the late king."

Anne's joy flickered for a moment and she lifted her eyes to see Constance's pointed look, reminding her to be careful. With a small nod, she returned her gaze back to her son. "I wish his father could be here. But I know he's watching over us."

After several entirely too quick minutes, she passed her son over to his wet nurse, who sat in a chair next to the bed, and Constance then asked if she should go and fetch the King. Anne's attention had been rapt on her son, waiting for him to latch on and then asking how well he was feeding, but she tore her gaze away long enough for Constance to meet her eyes and, with a slight raise of her eyebrows, silently communicate, "And Aramis."

MMMMMMMMMM

When Constance got out onto the lawn, she immediately spotted her husband and the little King, but Aramis was nowhere in sight.

"Constance!" Aramis called out, suddenly appearing from behind a hedge. Perhaps they had been playing hide-and-seek and he hadn't been found yet, though d'Artagnan and the King hadn't exactly looked to be seeking anything.

"Constance," Aramis repeated, jogging up to her. It had only been a short distance, but he seemed short of breath, and his cheeks shone with sweat. Just what he'd been doing out here she was curious to know, but so long as he wasn't being chased by assassins, an angry mob, or even palace guards, her questions could wait.

"It's over?" he said, his tone between a statement and a question.

She smiled, from both relief and joy, and nodded her head. "A boy."

"And they're both well?"

"Tired, but very well. They're both forces to be reckoned with."

Aramis smiled proudly, his whole face lighting up. "Can I see them?"

She nodded again, her stomach in knots once more. "But remember Aramis, you must keep your feelings in check. There will be plenty of time to gush over him and discuss who he looks like later as long as you get this right."

"Well, who do you think he looks like?" he asked with a grin and a raise of his eyebrows.

Constance clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes, though she was glad to see him being his cheeky self. Looking back at Aramis, she studied him for a moment before reaching up and brushing a lock of his hair back. "Just be thankful the late King had dark hair."

MMMMMMMMMM

He had cut it close, waiting until he heard Constance say that she was going to fetch the King, but even after hearing his son's cries he still had to make sure Anne was all right, and then, well, he simply wanted to stay near them. He didn't regret a second of it though, grateful not only to have been there, but to have that time to soak it in, for now that he was going to see them, he felt calmer, and more excited than nervous.

Louis seemed excited too, and when the small crowd in the doorway of Anne's bedchamber parted for their king, the boy ran ahead inside the room.

Coming in right behind the d'Artagnan's, Aramis stepped into the room, and saw Louis standing on his tippy toes and leaning onto the bed so that he could peer into the bundle of blankets in Anne's arms. Sticking out above the blankets though, was a shock of dark hair, and he fought the urge to run a hand through his own hair, but he could not completely stop the pull at the corner of his lips.

"This is your baby brother, Sire," said Anne. Her voice was a bit hoarse, but her face was shining with joy.

"What's his name?"

"Philippe."

"Like Uncle?"

"Yes, like your uncle," Anne answered, tactfully leaving out that the baby was really named for her father. "Would you like to hold him?" she then asked, to which Louis nodded eagerly. "Come up and sit next to me."

Louis did as instructed, and once he sat down next to his mother, he grabbed a small pillow to put on his lap, just as he had practiced with Nicolette. Anne gave Philippe a tender kiss on his hand before extricating her finger from his grip and placing him into Louis' arms.

"He's so light!" Louis exclaimed, looking up at Anne in surprise.

Anne smiled while Aramis and the rest of the room's occupants chuckled. "Yes, Sire, he's very new and very little so he doesn't weigh as much as Nicolette," Anne explained.

Aramis watched, heart bursting, as Louis looked down on his baby brother, tentatively touching Philippe's cheek before copying Anne and kissing his hand. The people in the room awed, and Anne looked up at their audience, smiling widely. "The King has given his blessing," she happily announced.

MMMMMMMMMM

Although Philippe had been born some several hours ago now, it wasn't until the early evening that d'Artagnan could finally take Constance home.

After seeing his new brother, the King had been turned over to his governor to go and have his lunch, and d'Artagnan had marched Aramis down to his office, fully intending to interrogate him over where exactly he had disappeared to once he had gone after one of the groundskeepers and then walked with the man towards a servant's entrance. Aramis had started jabbering excitedly the second the door closed though, admitting that he had gone to his office for a drink, and then telling him all about Milady's appearance and how he had been able to hear his son's first cries, as well as how strong both the baby and the Queen were.

D'Artagnan had known about Milady; he had caught sight of her in the bushes, signaling for him to stay before vanishing from his view, presumably and hopefully to go after Aramis. Now he knew why it had taken so long for her to bring him back, and only just as Constance had come outside to announce Philippe's birth. But any anger he felt towards Aramis for trying to see the Queen had dissipated into an exasperated sigh in the face of his brother's happiness, and he only gave him a light reprimand before accepting Aramis' offer of a celebratory drink while the bells began to ring outside. He knew very well that if it had been Constance, he would have taken any opportunity to be near her too, and since nothing bad had happened, he was glad his brother had been able to, in some way, be there.

When Constance came by once the Queen had eaten and then fallen asleep, Aramis had inundated her with questions, first asking for an update on how the Queen and Philippe were doing, then asking her to recount how the rest of the labour had gone once he had left. When Constance got to the actual birth, Aramis leaned forward in his chair, and then stopped her to ask how long it had taken Philippe to cry.

Constance had frowned. "I don't know exactly. He was all tangled up in his naval string, so it took at least a few seconds for Dame Peronne to step in and help Delorme to unwrap him. Then they sort of had to jostle him awake." She had said it all quite nonchalantly, but Aramis had paled at this, and d'Artagnan said a silent prayer of thanks that the baby was all right in the end. All their preparations had focused on the possibility of the Queen not surviving the birth, not the baby.

Aramis later invited them to stay for dinner, but d'Artagnan could tell how tired Constance was, and he was sure Aramis could use a rest as well, so they declined. And after checking in on the Queen once more, bid Her Majesty goodnight before finally leaving.

They had only taken one horse, wanting to get to the palace quickly that morning but not seeing the need to have another one saddled when they were going to the same place, and he helped his wife up onto the saddle before handing over the basket of food the Queen had instructed the kitchen to prepare for them and then hoisting himself up to sit behind her.

"So," Constance began once the palace gate closed behind them, "how much of a wreck was Aramis?"

D'Artagnan grimaced. "He wasn't too bad...at first," he admitted, and then proceeded to tell her how Aramis had slipped away and gone into the palace.

"Why didn't you stop him!?"

"I had to stay with the King!" he retorted. "And I very well couldn't shoot Aramis in front of him. Besides, Milady went after him, and obviously succeeded in keeping him out of trouble."

In front of him, Constance shook her head and sighed loudly. "I'll tell you one thing: I am going to give Nicolette the longest hug when I see her," she stated. "What her poor mother must have gone through to bring her into the world…" She shivered, and he rubbed her arm comfortingly. "I can hardly imagine, I mean to do that on your own, I couldn't."

"Of course you could." He pressed a kiss into her hair. "But you'll never have to worry about that."

"Even with our prevention methods there's still a chance-"

"And if that happens you still wouldn't have to give birth alone. I'd be there, and if by some chance I'm kidnapped or fighting off twenty men outside the room, someone else would be with you. Elodie, Rochelle, Aramis. I'm sure the Queen herself would come to your aid. You have friends and family who love you, Constance, and they'd be there for you just as you've always been there for them."

MMMMMMMMMM

She heard a soft knock on the door. "Your Majesty?" came Aramis' voice. "The King would like to say goodnight."

"Come in, Sire," she answered, and she pushed the blanket further down and away from Philippe's face so that Aramis could see him better as he lay there resting against her chest.

The door opened and Louis walked in with Aramis right behind him. They both looked exhausted, and Anne supposed she did as well; it had been a long day.

"Getting ready for bed, darling?" She usually went to Louis' room to kiss him goodnight, but she had asked that Aramis see him to bed tonight.

Louis nodded, and came up next to her. Aramis stayed a respectable distance away as the door was open, but his eyes still bore into her.

Breaking their eye contact, she looked to Louis. "Did you have a good day?"

"D'Artagnan and I taught Sweetie a new trick."

"Did you? And what trick is that?"

"She can bow!"

"Really?" she inquired excitedly while quickly shooting Aramis a questioning look above Louis' head.

"She extends her front legs out and dips down as if she's about to pounce," Aramis explained, briefly holding his arms out in front of him. "Former farm boy d'Artagnan is still quite the animal trainer, though he has to work on getting Sweetie to stand back up rather than holding the pose for two seconds and then just dropping her bottom onto the ground."

"Ah, well perhaps tomorrow you can show me," she told Louis, who nodded eagerly. "Good, now give me a kiss."

"Here," said Aramis, stepping forward as Louis started to climb onto the bed. Lifting Louis up, he raised him so that he was level with her face.

Louis giggled. "Goodnight, Mama," he said before they placed kisses on each other's cheeks.

"Goodnight, darling," she replied, and then Aramis lowered Louis back down to the floor. "Sleep well."

Once Louis walked past him, Aramis bowed, his eyes locked with hers. "Goodnight, Majesty," he said, and then his gaze fell to Philippe. "And goodnight Philippe."

"Goodnight, Philippe!" Louis quickly called out over his shoulder, making both her and Aramis smile.

While Louis continued on towards the door, Aramis met her eyes once more. "Be quick," she mouthed before he turned to follow Louis out of the room.

Minutes later, she heard the tiny click of the latch on the hidden door, signaling that Aramis was back.

"You have a special visitor," she said to Philippe, excitement bubbling in her chest.

Stepping into the room, Aramis took off his ministerial medal and put it into the pocket of his jacket before taking off the jacket as well and laying it over her prie-dieu. He walked around the bed as if transfixed, his eyes never leaving them, and once he reached her side, he slowly sat on the edge of the bed, and looked upon their son with absolute wonder.

"It's time for you to properly meet your Papa, my darling," she whispered to a sleepy Philippe before passing him over to Aramis.

Carefully, reverently, he took Philippe from her, his large hands easily cradling the tiny body. He gazed down upon their son, a smile breaking upon his face. "He's so small," he said softly, as if afraid to startle him.

"Smaller than Louis when he was born," she confirmed. "But then again, Louis had come a bit later than expected," she said, remembering how disappointed Louis had been after cutting his hunting trip short at her request and returning to Paris only to have to wait weeks for their son to finally be born. "I suppose it's better that it wasn't the other way around though."

Aramis hummed in agreement. "They're good boys who love their parents." He smiled back down at Philippe. "Aren't you?" Slowly, he stood up, and took a few steps over to one of the candelabras to hold their son near the light.

"I'm your father, Philippe," he said, loudly enough for her to hear him, and her heart ached as she saw Aramis take a shuddering breath. "And even though you will not know me as such, I will always be there for you." Lifting Philippe higher, Aramis kissed his forehead, squeezing his eyes shut as he did so.

Cradling Philippe back against his chest, Aramis continued to stare down at him as he walked around the end of Anne's bed. She hardly dared to breathe, not wanting to break the spell Philippe had cast over Aramis, not wanting to take away a second of their time together.

Going over to his side of the bed, Aramis kneeled onto the mattress and laid Philippe down next to her legs. He sat down then, and she heard the clunk of his boots hitting the floor once he took them off. "Let's get a better look at you," he said after sliding over and undoing Philippe's swaddling. He then proceeded to hold up each of Philippe's feet to brush his thumb along his toes before doing the same with Philippe's hands to examine his little fingers as they curled and uncurled; things she herself had done hours earlier, marveling over every inch of him.

Her heart swelled as she watched Aramis finally spread his hand across Philippe's chest, and let his hand rise and fall with his breathing.

Closing his eyes for a moment, Aramis sighed, and then returned his gaze to their son. "He's beautiful," he said, stroking his thumb across Philippe's side. "Another perfect boy, Ana." He turned to her then, a beaming smile on his face, and though she thought she had already cried all the tears she could have possibly cried today, she still felt a single droplet escape from the corner of her eye.

Down on the bed, Philippe began to gurgle, and they looked down to see him moving his arms and kicking his legs. "We should wrap him back up," she gently suggested, hoping Aramis would notice her surprise then. "He might be getting cold."

"Of course," Aramis replied, and she gave him the first end of the blanket before pointing to the other side. When he went to give her the other end, he noticed what was embroidered on the corner of the blanket.

"Is that my…?" he asked, staring down at his baby blanket, at his mother's embroidery.

"I had Milady fetch it and give it to Constance so that she could present it as a gift," she explained. As the seconds passed and Aramis made no response though, she started to worry that she had overstepped in taking it. "Aramis, I'm sorry, I should have asked-"

His head whipped around and he put his hands on either side of her face before pressing his lips to hers. He pulled away enough to look into her eyes. "I love you," he said, his eyes watering. She smiled, relieved he wasn't cross with her, and he leaned in for another tender kiss. "I just couldn't believe what I was seeing."

"He's your son," she said, savouring saying it aloud probably as much as Aramis savoured hearing it. "Why wouldn't he be wrapped in his father's baby blanket?"

Eyes shining, Aramis returned his attention back to Philippe, who was starting to emit noises of discontent. Aramis whispered soothing words as he gently finished swaddling him, and once in his arms, Philippe quickly quieted down. "There now, no need to call your nurses on us."

She smiled to see Philippe looking so content in his father's arms, like he belonged there. "Mmm, he can be quite loud," she remarked, "I wouldn't be surprised if you could hear him all the way out on the grounds once he was born. He was quite unhappy about coming out."

"I did hear him."

Anne looked over at him, and her smile fell when she saw that he was serious. "You…?"

"Sweetie was chasing after the ball, and then poor Martin up by the palace. I ran after her and then, well, I heard you. I went to my office to try and regain my composure, but…" he trailed off, and she could tell that whatever he had tried didn't work. "Milady found me there, and I convinced her to let us use the passageway and sit outside the door." Reaching over, he brushed the back of his fingers against her cheek. "I couldn't stay away, Ana. I had to make sure you were all right, and then..." he broke into a smile as he looked down at Philippe "And then I heard him."

She could hardly believe it; that he had been mere feet away. "Milady let you do this?" She was supposed to keep him out of trouble, not lead him to it.

"Turns out she has a heart after all."

She let out a slightly exasperated sigh, both at what he had done and what he had said. "You're only realizing that now?"

Aramis chuckled warmly, and against him, Philippe yawned, his mouth opening and closing several more times before he settled again. "Rest up, my son," he encouraged. "In a few hours we will be celebrating your beautiful, amazing, incredibly strong Mama's birthday."

"If by celebrating you mean me having breakfast, lunch, and dinner in bed, and spending the rest of the time, also in bed, with my boys, then I look forward to it."

With a smile and a raise of his eyebrows, Aramis looked back down at their son. "Let this be your first lesson," he said, and then after pressing a kiss to her temple, shifted over more to gently lie against her side. His free hand sought hers, and as they intertwined their fingers, she let her head fall to his shoulder. She exhaled, overwhelmed with love, and then heard Aramis say, "Whatever Mama wants, Mama gets."

Historical background/inspiration:

- Before the birth of Louis XIV on September 5th, Louis XIII "had spent part of the summer with the army near the Flanders frontier, and Anne had worried lest her time came before he returned. He came back to Saint-Germain on 18 August, however, and then proceeded to fret because the queen was not as near delivery as he had been led to believe. He would have liked to leave again, he wrote to Richelieu, just to get away from all those women" - Ruth Kleinman, Anne of Austria

-"The happy news [of Louis XIV's birth] spread from Saint-Germain to Paris and to all of France with almost literally the speed of sound, carried as it was by the peals of every church bell in the kingdom" - Ruth Kleinman, Anne of Austria

A/N:

Well, folks, I've caught up to myself again. As I've said in the past, I have an ending I very much want to share with you all, but these last few chapters of the story unfortunately need a lot more developing, so I'll be going on a break. This fic is bigger than anything I've ever written before, and has been a challenge at times, but also very rewarding, and I thank you all for your support. I do very much go back and re-read your comments often for motivation.

As for what's still to come, as long as things go to plan, we will get back to the ongoing war and see Condé again, along with Athos, Porthos, and Sylvie (and Raoul). And there will definitely be a visit from an old character or two from the show (any guesses?).

I would love to hear what you think of the story so far, especially if you have any favorite parts, lines, interactions etc.

Once again, thank you all so much for reading!