Grief is the price we pay for love

[armedagainstlove]

Athos doesn't even realize what's happened, at first.

Ever since Milady had arrived insisting that Athos had been on his way to meet her, ever since he had returned back to Paris and discovered Aramis' treason with the Queen and the result of such a coupling, ever since Rochefort's rearrival on the scene caused him to slouch back to the Nexus, he has been drinking like he hasn't since right after his wife's supposed death. It is in this state that he'd fumbled through a well-known door that he'd thought harmless to him.

Intoxicated with the red wine, he does not notice the shift of gravity in his body, nor the length of his hair different, swept up by the hat. All Athos knows is that he has drank two bottles and is eager for a third, lest he fall into the eager pit of grief and the other complicated affections that lie in wait for him, all coaxed on by the woman whose locket he no longer wears.

When he arrives at the bar for his usual, he's met with confusion. The bartender states that she hasn't been around enough to have a usual. Athos smacks his palm against the counter, his rage brought forward with the incense of it all. "Wine," he snaps, calming himself before his demands grow angrier and more frustrated. "Just bring me wine," he mutters, voice hoarse from the drink.

He slumps into his seat and peers down for the first time, unsteadily taking account of how his clothes now seem to sag and slump on him. Sighing with the inevitable realisation, he lifts an elegant long-fingered hand to the bartender. "Make that two," he adds, before allowing his forehead to collapse against that waiting hand.

How could he have thought this would pass him by forever?

He grasps both bottles of wine greedily when they arrive, eager to trudge back to his room and escape the prying eyes of the public.

Comments

[averygoodshot]

"Thos," Aramis says, his tone light, though the sentiment is anything but. He would not willingly put his compatriots in danger, let alone get them killed.

[armedagainstlove]

Athos gives Aramis a sharp look, sighing when he acknowledges that shouting and bickering is not going to do any good. "Fine," he murmurs, finally. "I accept that you're here and safe and will do your best to remain that way." He rubs at his frizzy hair, toppling his hat off. Crouching down to pick it up, he stumbles slightly before he begins his route back to the room.

[averygoodshot]

Right. Aramis reaches for Athos's arm again, making sure that he wouldn't fall. "Perhaps it would be best if you drank a bit less," he hazards as they again walk. "While," he hastens to add, "you are in this form."

[armedagainstlove]

Athos raises a brow instantly, the look on his face a warning that if Aramis were to pursue this path, he will not like what he finds at the end of it. "I haven't had more than a glass after the change. This is all lingering from before," he says curtly, waving Aramis' hand off of him. "It's unnatural, being without a beard for the first time in fifteen years," he mutters.

[averygoodshot]

"I would imagine it is," Aramis says, hands hovering at his sides, ready if Athos should stagger again. "But ... at least for the time being, you will not have to worry about shaving."

[armedagainstlove]

"You speak as though this will last," Athos notes calmly. "If I can escape the awful lights of Las Vegas and I can rid myself of those infernal ice powers, then I can surely find a way to disavow myself of this figure," he notes sharply, happy to see his room approach. He digs out his key and shoves it into the door furiously, pushing inside with a shoulder pressed to the wood. "I don't dare think of you finding it. The horror and broken hearts you would cause..."

[averygoodshot]

There's a compliment buried in there somewhere. Aramis smirks a little. He has one of those bottles of wine and holds it out. "I have no doubt you shall succeed, Athos."

[armedagainstlove]

Athos swipes the bottle away from Aramis with a thinly veiled grunt of satisfaction, pushing his other hand through the mess of hair that has grown worse with the stumbling and the drinking. "Are you planning to follow me the whole way back?"

[averygoodshot]

"Yes," Aramis says, not bothering to deny it. "I would hope for the same treatment were I suddenly in a different body," he tells Athos. "What if you fell and hurt yourself?"

[armedagainstlove]

"Then you would follow me in Paris for the same reason," Athos implies, but he already knows that they do. They seem to take it in turns, Aramis and Porthos (and now d'Artagnan), but he sighs and waves a hand to concede the point. "Fine," he allows. "You may accompany me for my safety."

[averygoodshot]

"Thank you," Aramis tells him, biting back his amused smile and keeping his hand hovering just below Athos's elbow. He lets a moment pass as they walk before asking, "... and have you been back to Paris since we last spoke?"

[armedagainstlove]

"I have," he agrees, his tone even despite its newly feminine echo. "And unfortunately, despite my attempts to stop the future that I knew from happening, it continued on apace. It only informed me as to what was to pass, rather than allowing me the chance to change it."

[averygoodshot]

"To what point?" Aramis asks, stiffening at the realization. "What is the last you remember?"

[armedagainstlove]

"Rescuing Rochefort from the Spanish prison. Watching De Foix struggle for his life," he explains, a critical eye given to Aramis to explain that while he does not know the rest intimately, he has been given flashes of previews that have given him a chance to understand what is to come.

[averygoodshot]

"Ah." Yes, it gets worse. Aramis, though, figures that can wait for another time, another ... situation. "That we had never rescued Rochefort."

[armedagainstlove]

"If not for him, I might be dead," Athos feels compelled to say, though if not for Rochefort, they would not have been ambushed, he suspects (given what everyone has told him of the man's duplicity). "I wonder, do you miss the Cardinal's machinations, at least knowing it was for France?"

[averygoodshot]

Yes, exactly that. What has happened was set in motion on that day.

To Athos's question, though, Aramis remembers all to well, that moment he and the Queen shared, only to see the Cardinal looming just a few feet away. His life might have been just as miserable, what with what he learned of Adele as well. "It is a small comfort," he admits, "that Richelieu did have France in his heart." And yes, he does cross himself again. Rest in peace, Cardinal.

[armedagainstlove]

Athos snorts, feeling as if they have only killed the head of one snake to welcome another. How he wishes it could be easier. "Do you ever long for simpler times?" Even as he asks, of course, he knows his life has not been simple since he'd been an ignorant child, too blinded by his riches to see the world until the world had come crashing down on him.

[averygoodshot]

"There is no such thing," Aramis says with a sigh. "And, really," he says with an attempt at that light-hearted flippancy that he often uses, "wouldn't we be bored if things were simple, Athos?"

[armedagainstlove]

"You lie," Athos deadpans, "Surely when I was a child in 1614, they were far simpler then." And even then, his childhood had been fraught with things he did not yet understand -- the duties and responsibilities of adulthood lurking before him and teasing him with their horrors. "And yes, I do know you would be bored. I'd likely be at the bottom of a wine barrel."

[averygoodshot]

"Then it is better that we avoid the simple." Providing Athos with a game smile, Aramis shrugs. He doesn't wish his friend to become so very sick again as he had been. "If I can be of any assistance while you are in this form, Athos .... "

[armedagainstlove]

Athos regards Aramis with a piercing look that dares him to finish the sentence. He looks for clarity and wishes to know precisely what aid might be found while Athos is in this form, and then, he says as much in clear words. "Such as...?"

[averygoodshot]

"... perhaps," Aramis says slowly - and carefully - "merely assistance walking. I can accompany you."

[armedagainstlove]

"If that's what you wish to call it, then I will welcome your assistance," Athos murmurs, though he wants to stubbornly insist that he does not require help of this magnitude. The truth is, he does.

[averygoodshot]

He does; Aramis smiles a bit, touching the brim of his hat, glad that Athos acquiesces. "Very well. I shall, then, leave you to it. If you need anything ... ." he reminds him.