It was bound to happen some time - OTA

[averygoodshot]

Aramis keenly remembers teasing Porthos when he had stepped through the door and become a woman. He had teased d'Artagnan and even Athos.

Oh, how the mighty have fallen. He had not intended to do anything, really. He spent a good deal of his time praying, a good deal of time trying to atone for his sins.

Instead, this is what happens.

Much as his friends had, he has hitched his clothing tighter so that it may not fall down, and has fashioned something of a harness for ... well, for his new developments, as it were. He knows he could seek out Constance or even, if he was desperate, Milady, but he is not that desperate. He simply makes do and tells himself that God has a reason for everything.

He has always appreciated women and so maybe this is to test that? Who knows. Aramis does not question, at least not much. He is aware, though, that he looks a little foolish, his hair tied up, his clothing, baggy on him as a man, is like a series of large sacks on him, his boots far too big as he makes his way down the hallways. He smiles, though, not having a hat to tip, as he greets people. He knows he's not the only one who's suffered thusly. That's something anyway.

Comments

[praiseandglory]

That's the first Porthos hears about this in a long, long time, and he can't help but frown. "You'd leave us?"

[averygoodshot]

Aramis winces. He hadn't been thinking that Porthos might not have come from the same time he had.

He stops, turning to face his best friend. "I would not leave you, per se. I would simply be ... elsewhere."

It's a strange and nonsensical distinction, but a part of him would always be a Musketeer, after all.

[praiseandglory]

"In a monastery," Porthos clarifies, not sounding any more favourable to the idea.

[averygoodshot]

"... yes," Aramis admits, looking down, then back up at him. "I needed to, Porthos. I made a promise to God."

[praiseandglory]

"What promise?" Porthos asks, still frowning at his friend.

[averygoodshot]

"That if I somehow got out of the prison Rochefort put me in with my life, I would devote it to Him. Porthos," Aramis sighs. "I have done some ... regrettable things. I must atone."

[praiseandglory]

"You've done some regrettable things all right," Porthos confirms gruffly, and of course he can't object. Aramis has made a promise to God. But he can't bring himself to approve, or support that decision, either. Just accept it, and he nods, holding Aramis's gaze.

[averygoodshot]

"It's why I have been mostly in my room," Aramis says. "I only meant to try to return to Paris, and .... " he gestures down to himself. This is what happened.

[praiseandglory]

It's stupid to feel hurt that Aramis would have tried to run back to Paris, and off to the monastery, without seeing him first. It's stupid, because Porthos knows that he is in Paris, too, and trusts that his friend would not have gone without saying goodbye. But feelings don't listen to logic, and he's hurt all the same.

Still, he knows it is stupid, so he locks that hurt away and turns it into a joke, as they walk into the Smoking Room. "Well, that'll teach you to try and run off without a word, won't it?" He smiles at Aramis, as if all this news hasn't shaken him. "I'll get the wine."

[averygoodshot]

If there are two people who know each other than Aramis and Porthos, Aramis doesn't know who they are. And he knows Porthos is hurt and rightfully so, really. Aramis kept secrets, he deceived everyone, he endangered everyone.

"Porthos - " he starts, then pauses, unsure how to continue.

"It was not my intention to hurt you," he finally says.

[praiseandglory]

Porthos puts his hand on his friend's (slimmer) shoulder and gives it a gentle squeeze. "I'll get the wine," he repeats, because they do know each other that well, and they don't need to hash it out.

They mostly need to get drunk off their heads, if you ask Porthos.

[averygoodshot]

That in and of itself might be the very best or the very worst idea. It remains to be seen.

Regardless, Aramis nods. He will go with Porthos and drink wine because it needs to happen.

That, and they're still here. Together. Perhaps it is a message bigger than Aramis's own.

[praiseandglory]

So Porthos leaves his friend to find a table for them while he goes to the bar and procures a couple of bottles of wine, and two glasses. It isn't long before they're sitting together with a full glass each. "Here's to your quick return to your natural body," Porthos toasts, and then drinks to that.

[averygoodshot]

Aramis can drink to that as well, holding the thin, delicate glass between his fingers.

"How much, exactly, do you think I shall drink?" he asks, eyeing those two bottles with a smile.

[praiseandglory]

"I think we'll have failed if we can still walk in a straight line by night's end," Porthos answers, although he does remember that he couldn't hold his alcohol as well in a woman's body. Was it just him, or would it also be the case for Aramis? Athos certainly hadn't seemed to drink any less back when he had gone through the change.

[averygoodshot]

Well, Athos is hardly the barometer by which to judge, is he? His body seems capable of handling more alcohol than theirs by sheer regular consumption of it.

"Well, I will rest assured that if that is the case, I can trust you to take me to the right room," Aramis teases.

[praiseandglory]

"If I can still take myself to the right room, then we won't have been drinking enough," Porthos points out, and drinks to that.

[averygoodshot]

"I can't lift you like this," Aramis reminds him. "So ... let that be remembered if you find your face hitting the floor."

Cheers!

[praiseandglory]

Porthos bared his teeth in a grin. "That's the spirit."