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Chapter 7

"All things are ready, if our mind be so."
- William Shakespeare -

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With the Blessing Ceremony come and gone, without interruptions this time, and with the Queen and the Dauphin safely departed to return to the Louvre, the enthusiastic crowd began to disperse, leaving Notre Dame to her eternal watch duty over the City that they called their home. Only the small group of musketeers remained standing in the cathedral's shadow, accompanied by Constance, Sylvie, Elodie and Brujon, discussing the extraordinary events of the day. Neither of them was eager to leave for their duties yet, for a simple reason - they all counted their own blessings for being alive and having new hope for the future.

"We better get back to the garrison," Constance said eventually. "Now that we don't have Grimaud breathing on our necks, we can continue clearing it properly."
"Maybe you should leave it to the men," Porthos replied with a worried frown. "You know there will still be some…" his voice faded. Everyone knew what he meant. Dead bodies…
"I think we've already established that we are made of stronger stuff than you think," Elodie remarked earnestly. "The last almost five years made us tougher than many men are."

Porthos lowered his eyes and nodded.
"I will ask around in the camp for more helpers," Sylvie said, exchanging smiles with Constance.
"The Queen promised to send some of the guards from the palace as well to help," Aramis added.
D'Artagnan looked at Athos, who still seemed tired, holding his injured side. "You should rest," he said, still worried.
To his friends' great surprise, the Captain didn't contradict him. He looked at their faces, then sighed.
"I think you're right," he agreed, resigned. "I need some sleep."
"I'd say you need a long one, my friend," Aramis remarked, knowing only well how many restless nights Athos had had recently. "Besides, you wouldn't help your injury if you started bending and lifting heavy things." He smiled and patted Athos on his shoulder, seeing his deflated face. "Don't worry, I'm sure there will be something useful you can do until you get better."

The friends chuckled, including the Captain. He didn't want to leave them to deal with the devastation alone but acknowledged his need for recovery.
"All right, I'll go back to the tavern to get some rest," he said. "But let me know if you need anything."
"We'll be fine, just go get some sleep finally!" Constance exclaimed, with raised eyebrows. "You look like something the cat dragged in."

Athos sighed. "You're always so nice to me, Constance," he remarked, dryly, making Sylvie chuckle.
Madame d'Artagnan grinned. "Just because you're the Captain doesn't mean you don't need some straightening up sometimes."
Athos couldn't resist a grin which then turned into a heartfelt smile. Looking at the familiar faces around him, he was reminded how much they meant to him. These people were the grounds his life stood upon - they were his family.
"Let's go then," Constance ordered, and the small group set out to the ruins of the garrison, leaving Athos and Sylvie alone.

Sylvie squeezed the Captain's hand. "I'll drop you off at the tavern before going to the camp."
"No need. I can perfectly manage on my own," Athos replied. "Just… Don't worry about me." He smiled.
"As you wish," Sylvie agreed, although her eyes spoke of the opposite. "You go and lay down, that's an order. I'll see you when I get back." She kissed him gently.
"Be careful," he couldn't help remarking, glancing at her tummy.
"I'll try," Sylvie teased, grinning.
Athos's smile widened, his eyes lingering on her face for a beat longer. He nodded and slowly releasing her hand, he watched her turn and walk toward the refugee camp.

He closed his eyes, leaning his head slightly back, and exhaled loudly, releasing a cloud of steam from his mouth. A blissful smile curled his lips as he still couldn't get enough of the feeling of peace within his soul. He opened his eyes, seeing the majestic bell towers climbing high into the sky. A sudden urge washed over him. He decided to walk back to the cathedral door and step inside for the third time that day.

The impressive arches, statues, chandeliers, and intricate, colourful rose windows suddenly looked very different in his eyes. Athos didn't remember when was the last time he stepped inside a church without being on duty or to prevent some dangerous situation. He never had time to simply look around and let his spiritual side come out of hibernation to truly appreciate places of worship. His long years of drowning in sorrow and grieving over his past didn't make him feel close to God either. However, in the past year, things had changed, his life had changed, and Athos finally saw the light again…

His eyes roamed around the immense space as if seeing it for the first time. He stopped near the first line of benches, admiring several grand mays, beautiful altarpieces, painted by the Parisian goldsmith guild. As a soldier, Athos had few chances of admiring art, but he was not oblivious to it. He sat down on a bench, his hands inadvertently clasped together as if praying.

"I don't know if you can hear me," Athos spoke hesitantly. "For years I wasn't even sure if you are even there… but I do want to thank you… " He sighed. "Everything you sent into my path, the good and the bad… It made me who I am today. Now I understand that."
A smile appeared on his face. "I don't know if I am worthy, but thank you for bringing her into my life, both of them… I promise I will do everything to not mess this up for I know I will never receive a greater gift."

Athos suddenly felt he didn't have enough words to express all the feelings that threatened to burst out of his chest. All the joy, thrill, love and wonder blended in his heart, creating harmony and peace in his soul like he had never known. After a few more silent moments, the Captain slowly and with some effort stood up. He bowed his head toward the altar once more and walked out of the cathedral, leaving it to its afternoon contemplation.

A pair of deep, dark eyes followed him out from behind one of the tall pillars. As he closed the heavy door, Sylvie appeared in a ray of light penetrating one of the windows and retraced his steps to leave the cathedral as well. She secretly and quietly entered it minutes ago, worried and curious, after seeing Athos walking inside instead of going to the tavern.

Now, a warm and grateful smile lingered on her face. She turned around to look toward the altar.
"We may not always make sense of this world by Your will… but I know You guide us where we are meant to be in the end. And that's worth everything."
She nodded, and just as the bells chimed another hour that had passed, she slipped out of the cathedral and finally set out for the refugee camp.

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The sky had finally turned blue when Athos decided he couldn't go to the tavern yet. His feet carried him toward the Louvre palace. It took him longer than usual, without a horse and carrying an injury, but he knew the matter he wanted to sort out couldn't wait. He had no problems getting inside, with all guards recognising the Captain of the Musketeers. The respect he had gained since Treville promoted him to lead the garrison grew every day, especially after the events of that day.

He finally made it to the quarters he usually entered only with Aramis, Porthos and d'Artagnan, when his services were required.
"I need to speak with the Queen," he announced to one of the guards at the entrance to the Regent's private quarters. "In a personal matter."

The man nodded, turned around and walked away through the reception room, leaving the Captain waiting. When he returned, he resumed his position. "The Queen is expecting you."

Athos passed the guards and walked down the familiar route until he reached the door of the sovereign's bedroom. Out of respect, he knocked before entering.
The Queen was sitting at the window with a book in her hand. She smiled but couldn't mask her surprise at seeing the Captain again that day, especially knowing he needed rest to recover from his injury.
"Athos…" She stood up and walked to him. "You should be in bed."

The musketeer bowed, smiling.
"I'm on my way there, Majesty, but there is something I need to talk to you about first, something personal," he replied, lifting his eyes back to her face. There was a trace of regret and hesitation in his look.
The Queen waited a moment before speaking again.
"Why do I have the feeling I will not like what you are about to say?" she asked.

Athos chuckled. "The last thing I wish is to displease my Queen. However… I cannot withhold the truth from Your Majesty."
"Rebuild the garrison, Captain…"
He sighed, remembering the monarch's words to him just a little while ago.
"In all the years of being a musketeer, I have served my King and you, I have served France. There were times when I found it difficult but I don't regret it for a minute. It has been a great honour and has taught me more than I could have ever hoped for." He paused.
The Queen listened intently.
"The honour has been ours, Captain," she remarked, smiling. "There have been only a few people as loyal and devoted as you, and even fewer who we… who I ever regarded as dear friends."

Athos lowered his eyes again, humbled. When he lifted them again, the Queen noticed the determination in his look.
"I have always fulfilled Your Majesty's wishes. However, there is one I cannot fulfil… I cannot rebuild the garrison."
The sovereign's eyes widened with surprise. She was about to inquire why when Athos continued.
"It has been my dear and cherished home for many years, but I cannot rebuild it for the time has come when my place is somewhere else, with someone else…"

The Queen was suddenly hit by realisation and her mouth curled in a soft smile. Athos smiled as well, his face suddenly glowing.
"I am to become a father," he stated, moved. "I'm sure Your Majesty will understand how important it is for me to be there for my child now, and for his mother, the woman I love…"

The Queen nodded, with a beaming smile, her bright eyes reflecting the joy she shared with him.
"I do," she agreed, "and words cannot express how happy I am for you, for both of you. I know fatherhood and family life will bring you the happiness you deserve so much."
"Thank you, Majesty," Athos said quietly, grateful.
"Have you thought about your replacement?" she asked.
"I have. I don't think I could choose a better and more honourable man than him. I will tell him soon."

The Regent smiled. With Athos's previous recommendations for the new First Minister and Porthos's promotion to a higher military rank, it was not difficult for her to guess who the Captain meant.
"I think you are right," she agreed. "Will you ever come back?"
Athos thought for a moment before replying. "That would depend on various things."
"You will always have a home here, Athos, don't ever forget that."

The Queen looked suddenly a bit emotional. She didn't even get the chance to say farewell to Treville, and now she had to part with another dear friend. Athos couldn't help but feel the same. The Regent had never treated him in any way but kindly and justly.
"Let's consider this an indefinite leave of absence," the Queen suggested then, with a beaming smile.
The musketeer chuckled, nodding. "Let's."

The Queen sighed. "We shall miss you," she remarked, with a sad smile. "Your opinions have always been of great value to us."
"I am sure Aramis will be more than an equal help in any matter…"
"Athos…" She raised her eyebrows.
"… of political importance." He mimicked her expression, making her chuckle. The memory of their recent conversation warmed her heart.
"Where will you go?" she asked then.
Athos pondered. "I have an idea but that is not only up to me to decide. It doesn't really matter, though, as long as I have Sylvie and our child by my side."

The Queen regarded him fondly for a moment, then turned around and walked to her prayer desk by the window. She opened one of its drawers and took something out of it. Then she returned to Athos.
"I would like to give you something for your child," she said and opened her hand, revealing a small but intricately decorated gold cross on a gold chain.
Athos was searching for words as his eyes studied the masterfully crafted piece of jewellery.
"Your Majesty, I…"
"I brought it with me from Spain when I got married," the Queen didn't let him finish. "My mother gave it to me when I was a child. She said it would always rightfully guide my heart and lead me where I was supposed to be… " She sighed. "It has served its purpose well and gave me a great comfort many times." A smile appeared on her delicate face again. "I have found my place. Therefore… Give it to your son or daughter one day, and tell them it was a gift to one of the most honourable men the Queen of France had ever known. May it help them to find their right way in life, wherever it leads them."

Athos swallowed hard, unable to speak; the words suddenly didn't seem to exist. To receive such a personal and emotionally precious gift from the ruler of France was something unimaginable, an honour bestowed only upon the very best and most appreciated. He slowly opened his hand, letting her gently drop the pendant on his palm.
"They will cherish it, Majesty…" he said with difficulty, his eyes unexpectedly glistening.
The Queen smiled warm-heartedly. "I know they will, for I know their father."
Those words made Athos smile as well. "Thank you," he said quietly.
"God be with you all," she replied.

The Captain bowed as low as his injury allowed him and slowly straightened up again. The monarch nodded, still smiling. Athos turned and started for the door when suddenly the Queen's words forced him to look back.
"If you ever need anything, you know you have friends here," she remarked. "And do stay in touch. That's my last order to you, Captain. For now," she added knowingly.

Athos's smile widened.
"Majesty," he said and walked out of the bedroom, leaving the Queen alone – and beaming.

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