Perhaps (You Dreamt Of Her)

by Michelle 

Note: This story is set at the beginning of the s03 e08 'The Prisoners of War' from the TV series The Musketeers.

“We should reach Paris by tomorrow midday,” Porthos remarked, throwing a stick he was absently playing with into the flames. “With them being on foot, it’s taking far longer.”

He was referring to the four Spanish captives sitting bound together on the other side of the fire. The journey that took them about a day after having left Paris stretched into half a day more on the way back so they had to spend the night at an old ruin in the forest. Their backs were covered and they had a good view of the space before them.

“It’s all right, as long as we don’t run into any more of them, which I doubt. Grimaud won’t return just yet. He’ll need to fully recover and gather his allies before coming back to Paris,” d’Artagnan replied. He stood up, checking his pistol. “I’ll check the area, just to be sure.”

Porthos nodded and looked to his right, a worried expression bringing a frown to his distinctive face.

“He’s not been himself these days,” he stated. “Grimaud has really gotten under his skin.”

“That’s not the only reason,” Aramis spoke for the first time.

Porthos looked at him, understanding hitting him at once, and he sighed. Athos had always been the more quiet, brooding one of the four of them, but along with the rock-hard, almost maddening determination to bring their main enemy to justice, the level of austerity and melancholy, radiating from him over the past few days reached a new dimension.

Aramis stood up and walked to join Athos, sitting on a large tree log a bit away from them. He reminded him of a statue, unmoving and graceful in some strange way. His face was an open book, his eyes, usually deep and blue, seemed black and lifeless in the reflection of the flames dancing in the fire. If sorrow was an image, Aramis was looking at it right then and there.

“You don’t have to do this, you know?” he said as he sat down next to his friend.

Athos kept staring in the direction of the fire.

“Do what?” he asked, his facial expression unchanged.

“Torturing both of you when there’s no reason,” Aramis stated plainly.

Athos shot a warning look at him but then averted his eyes again, determined not to follow the trail of the conversation he knew was coming.

“You dreamt of her…” Aramis went on.

“Dream,” Athos interrupted him.

“What?”

“I dream of her,” he repeated, closing his eyes, suddenly abashed by his inadvertent admittance.

“Now you’re talking,” Aramis replied, with a cheeky smile. “Of course, you do, I’ve liked her from the start.”

“Don’t,” Athos warned him again through gritted teeth.

“Why?”

“Just… don’t!” he said with a strained voice.

Defying his fatigue and still-not-completely healed body, Athos almost jumped up and walked a few steps before stopping again, needing to release the tension and get some breathing space. He took a few deep breaths to steady himself.

Aramis quietly observed his friend for a few moments. It wasn’t just pity he felt for him; it was the knowledge that the Captain of the Musketeers had finally some happiness within reach and yet seemed not strong or bold enough to accept it.

“What are you so afraid of?” he broke the silence.

“You don’t understand…”

“I understand that Anne has left you emotionally scarred for life but..”

“Don’t you dare compare the brightest light with the darkest shadow!” Athos growled suddenly, but not surprising Aramis, who smiled.

“Fair enough, my fault. So what? Understand that life has given you a second chance, finally a chance to have someone decent, kind and special in your life, someone who loves you and would do anything for you, and you’re just throwing it away?”

Athos groaned and glanced up at the starry night sky rounded off by tall trees.

“You don’t… understand,” he said then, calmer again.

“Enlighten me then because I’ve known you for a long time and I’ve never seen you happier than when you were with her.”

At last, Athos turned to face his friend and sighed.

“I cannot have both, Aramis… Treville was right. It’s not like me to get distracted. I swore my allegiance to France, I swore to protect it with my last breath. But when I’m with Sylvie…” A deep sigh tore from his throat as he winced. “I forget… I forget about time, about space, about what I’m bound by duty to do… She’s like a dream I don’t want to wake up from, both beautiful and terrifying…”

“You love her.”

“God help me, I do… more than I ever thought I could love again, but that’s not the point.” Athos shook his head. “France is on the verge of civil war and I have to give my all to prevent it from happening. I cannot compromise that.”

He was breathing heavily now, the emotional struggle and pain written all over his features. He ran his hand over his face, wiping away a stray tear he hadn’t noticed escaping before, and cast his look back into the fire, afraid to lose his composure completely.

Aramis watched his profile, illuminated by the flickering flames. Confusion and despair mingled on it in equal measures.

“Isn’t she a part of France too?” he asked knowingly.

Athos looked at him with a pained expression.

“You swore your allegiance to France, to protect not only the King but all the good people of this country. Including the people we love. Isn’t Sylvie one of them?”

“I am protecting her… Grimaud almost killed her because I was not ready for him. I would lay my life for her if needed…”

“I know,” Aramis interrupted him gently. “But that’s not what I meant.”

He stood up and walked the few steps to join his friend, putting his hand on his shoulder.

“Sylvie’s fighting for the same cause, Athos, for a better and safer world for everyone, every citizen of Paris and the whole country… Her passion, drive and relentlessness are things to behold. You and she are so alike in many ways that it’s staggering, and honestly, sometimes it drives me crazy.” He chuckled; then his face turned serious again.

“I know Grimaud haunts you with every step you take,” he paused, seeing Athos’s face hardening,  “not just because he caught you unprepared. We will get him and stop all this madness before it gets too late, but…” He smiled again. “Now that you’ve learned from your honest mistake, for we’re all only human, you know… Don’t you think you would get less distracted with Sylvie by your side instead of her invading your mind to torture you from a distance? Wouldn’t it be so much better if we all joined forces and fought this monster together?”

Athos’s features softened, and he swallowed hard, still feeling helpless but Aramis’s words slowly and cautiously reached his heart.

“All you need is to find a little balance between your life and your duty, my friend,” Aramis remarked quietly. “D’Artagnan handles it pretty well. Why couldn’t you? God knows you deserve something better in your life. And you have a chance. Don’t wait until it becomes too late to take it. You can make a choice… Be grateful for it, for so many others can’t…”

His look got distant for a fraction of a moment before returning to the present with a sad smile.

Athos recognised that brief look well, though. The understanding and compassion in his eyes warmed Aramis’s heart as his smile widened. He squeezed his friend’s shoulder once more and turned to walk away, but Athos’s voice stopped him.

“You deserve better as well.”

Their eyes met and the strength of their friendship, forged throughout many years of common hardships, losses and victories, shone brightly in the dark and cool night. Aramis smiled warmly and with a small nod of acknowledgement, he left his friend alone again.

Athos’s own smile faded slowly as he watched his friend join Porthos by the fire. His heart was still at war with his reason, but Aramis had managed to cause a few cracks to appear in the wall he had erected between his sense of duty and his desire.

Exhausted from his injuries and his internal emotional struggle, he decided it was best to get some sleep. Perhaps it would bring him some much-needed peace and strength for the upcoming days. Perhaps he would dream of a better life, where the streets of Paris were safe from cruelty, injustice and suffering. Perhaps he would dream of her again… Perhaps…