Upon the realization of loss

[averygoodshot]

There is little that will keep Aramis away from his son. Even trips to exotic beach locales only serve as temporary diversions from what he considers his family. He has not gone back to Paris to appease the Queen, he has been diligent and loyal and good (love, he tells himself, is a powerful force).

Then comes the day when he knocks on the right door and no one answers. When he's told that Anne, Queen of France, no longer resides in the Nexus at all. How, he wonders, his heart clattering in his chest, can he keep the Queen safe now? How can he protect his son?

After a thorough and emotional search, resulting in nothing, not even a door back to Paris, Aramis does the only thing he can think to do. He drinks (and yes, he does let the others know of his findings, or lack thereof) and he wallows. This is how he finds himself in the tavern, a wine bottle and goblet in front of him, and his head in his hands.

Comments

[praiseandglory]

Generous seeming hardly sounded as if Aramis had made the most of the girl's generosity, which seemed a shame to Porthos. At his words, though, the taller man stopped and put a hand on his friend's shoulder, holding his gaze. "You often are."

The look in Porthos's eyes made it clear how greatly he hoped that Aramis would take the obvious bait and banter with him, rather than get mired in anguish and self-recrimination.

Besides, there was a door somewhere nearby leading to a beach full of scantily clad women. Porthos would rather see his friend smile again.

[averygoodshot]

The teasing does draw a smile to Aramis's face, as well as gratitude; Porthos can always be counted to lighten Aramis's mood. He pats at his friend's side and leads him to the door that he had before gone through.

With a glance again, he pushes through and they are indeed back on the beach he was at before.

[praiseandglory]

A smile is not banter, but it is better than many of the alternatives. Porthos can take a partial victory when he is offered one - at least, in one such instance. He follows after his friend, and smiles as the wave of heat that engulfs him as he steps through the door. He's glad he wasn't in full Musketeer attire, on account of the warmth of the weather in the Nexus, it means he doesn't have to take off his pauldron and jacket and fear losing them.

He looks around and indeed, everyone here seems to be wearing very little. That puts his rakish smile back on his face, and he grins over at his friend. "This is a gem." This door he's found, this place he's found. Like the door to the Caribbean, but without the danger. Sometimes, even Porthos welcomes a situation where he might not have to use his sword.

[averygoodshot]

Most times, and certainly in times like these, Porthos's spirits are all that are needed to bolster Aramis's. Once again, he claps his hand on his friend's shoulder and he says, "beware the drinks which taste like candy. They are not harmless."

His boots sink into the sand as he walks forward toward the chaise chairs that await them, looking out upon the surf. "I have a hunch," he adds. "That you'll fit right in."

[praiseandglory]

"I know just the drinks you mean," Porthos confirms, following Aramis towards the chaises and already pulling his shirt up over his head. There's no reason not to blend in, after all, and it is that hot. "Madame Bonacieux's introduced me to them." He still prefers wine as an everyday drink, but he also loves new flavours and experiences so.

And yes, he'll call her Constance to her face, but it's still instinct to be more formal when talking about her to other people.

[averygoodshot]

When in Rome, as the saying goes ...

Aramis sits first, then pulls off his boots, wiggling his toes in the sun. Then off comes his shirt. "Ah, here they come," he says of such drinks, in such bright colors and always so chilled and delicious, borne by a woman wearing precious little.

He is beginning to think this was a very good idea indeed.

[praiseandglory]

It isn't long before Porthos is barefooted as well, shirt dropped on top of his boots, and he arranges his sword so he can sit comfortably on the lounge chair. He gives the woman bringing them drinks an appreciative smile along with his thanks, and watches her walk away before turning back to his friend. "I like this place."

[averygoodshot]

"I would imagine you do," Aramis chuckles. He leans back, closing his eyes, letting the sun warm him. "And do you like the view, my friend?"

Which makes him curious. Has there been anyone Porthos has felt for, since Alice?

[praiseandglory]

"I like the view," Porthos confirms, and grins. "And the landscape. And the drink," he adds after taking a sip of the brightly coloured, iced cocktail.

[averygoodshot]

Aramis chuckles at that. "It may not be the kind of adventure involving violence, but perhaps it will do for a while."

[praiseandglory]

"You know," Porthos tells him, reclining in his chaise and pillowing a hand under his head, "sometimes a lack of violence is acceptable. For a little while, anyway," he adds, casting a grin at his friend.

[averygoodshot]

That makes Aramis laugh even as he tilts his face toward the sun. "Perhaps if we continue exploring, we shall find something worth fighting for," he tells his friend. Though he had that and she left.

"Have you been back?" he asks, shading his eyes as he looks toward Porthos. "To Paris?"

[praiseandglory]

Porthos shakes his head, a shadow sweeping over his brow. "Not since I last told you."

[averygoodshot]

Porthos's father. Aramis nods, taking a sip of his frothy drink.

With a noticeable effort, he changes the subject, looking back out over the surf: "last time I was here, I heard tell of beasts in the water. Monstrous things which would swallow a man whole."

Whether he's kidding or not might be hard to tell.

[praiseandglory]

"Are you saying a man shouldn't go for a swim without his sword?" Or a woman, for that matter, if she were the sort to carry one.

[averygoodshot]

"I went in," Aramis says with a shrug. "And came out unscathed." He does not tell Porthos if trying to flee the water like a scared child at news of such beasts. "I suppose it's every man for himself."

[praiseandglory]

"Well, I'm not leaving it behind," to be stolen by anyone, "or risking it in the water," Porthos states, fingers skilling along the elaborate guard of his broadsword. Swimming would have to wait until he came back without it.

[averygoodshot]

"All right." Which does prompt a question: "do you know how to swim, Porthos?" They have waded in a good many creeks, but as for swimming, well, that's hardly been something they've had time or taken time to do.

[praiseandglory]

"Enough not to drown?" Porthos offers, looking over at Aramis with raised eyebrows that seem to be asking the question right back. He's no great swimmer, but he can manage to stay afloat.

[averygoodshot]

Well, really, not drowning is the key to swimming so that works. Aramis smiles. He's an apt swimmer having spent a good number of summer days in the pond near home. "I wouldn't throw you in and leave you to it, no matter how you answered, Porthos."

[praiseandglory]

Porthos laughs at that, because it hadn't even occurred to him. "I'm grateful. I take it you're a proficient swimmer yourself?"

[averygoodshot]

"I am. I was taught when I was very young," Aramis says and his smirk grew again. "I suppose I shall give you lessons if you'd like? Then, should something come for you, you will at least be able to make a good fight of it," he teases.

[praiseandglory]

"If you're saying I wouldn't make a good fight of it now, we might have a problem," Porthos replied, smiling, although he sounded too lazy right then to do much of anything about it. Instead, he sipped from his glass again.

[averygoodshot]

"Once again, I'm quaking in my boots," Aramis chuckles, just as relaxed, or at least trying to be. "I can see that you make yourself quite a threat as you are now. Fearsome. See how the other visitors go out of their way to avoid you."

[praiseandglory]

"There's too many of them I don't want to see avoiding me," Porthos replied, eyeing yet another half-naked beauty as she walked past. This was something close to heaven.