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[armedagainstlove]

He'd made it to the crossroads, but not in time to do anything but find a waiting glove. The carriage had long gone and with it, his wife. Athos isn't even sure if he's disappointed or broken, because he still doesn't know whether he'd been going to see her off or to join her, but he cannot imagine abandoning the Musketeers completely, but knows that he could not leave her either. With her back in his life and all her debts gone, Athos can see them as who they are.

No more lies. No more deceit. They will simply be the people they actually are and they will try. For some reason, this is something that stirs Athos' heart in a way that he hasn't felt in years. He thinks back to Las Vegas and how Faith had been intoxicating then, with her dark hair and her knowing eyes, but even then it had just been Anne that he wanted.

And now, he has her glove, but nothing else.

He makes it back to Paris and finds himself standing at the door that he knows will bring him to the Nexus.

He doesn't wait at all before going through it, though he knows that yet again, his challenge will be finding Milady, when she is constantly one step ahead of him.

Comments

[aspecialkindofwoman]

It's hard to stay a step ahead of anyone when she's trapped in this place. It's beginning to grate on her, truthfully. She has tried every door. She has listened and watched and even volunteered to be part of some "away team." It had garnered nothing as she has attempted to give Athos the chance he'd asked for: to live his life to the time she recalls.

Milady de Winter doesn't do well being trapped. She stalks the halls of the Nexus, her skirts moving around her legs; she still hasn't dressed like others, but she has modified her dress, ditching the corset and wearing her hair a little looser. She doesn't seem to fit here, still, but unlike in Paris, where fitting in is a matter of life and death, she isn't sure that standing it out is such a bad thing.

[armedagainstlove]

Finally, he finds her. He still clutches her glove in his hand, but he's not sure the words he's meant to say as he strides towards her, his eyes roaming over her face and her clothes. Does she know that he's caught up to her? She must. He's already wearing the clothes of the Captain of the Musketeers, which is one of the reasons he thinks they must amend the agreement they will decide on.

"Anne," he breathes out. "I believe this is yours," he says, extending the lost glove to her.

[aspecialkindofwoman]

When she'd seen him approach, she had stopped. His attire, even his pauldron is different. And of course, that's her glove. Really, it is very difficult to catch Milady by surprise. Athos has done it twice over and it shows on her face, a hand going to her throat as if on instinct.

She reaches for the glove, her gaze flicking between the silk and his face. Athos looks different than the man she saw last here. "... you came. To the crossroads."

[armedagainstlove]

"I did," he confirms, relinquishing the glove now that she's here and able to take it. "By that time, you'd already gone. I hate to be late, but d'Artagnan had a wedding that I was to take part of and, as I'm sure you've noticed, I have more responsibilities at hand," he says, with a deferential nod to the new pauldron (though he's sure she could likely see it in the set of his face alone, as well as she knows him).

[aspecialkindofwoman]

"I knew of the wedding." Back in Paris, Milady still had contacts. "What happened to Treville?" she asks, tucking the glove in her belt. "Did he finally take a position with the King?" Recovering some of her decorum, she arches a brow. "Imagine how different our lives would be had he done that from the start."

[armedagainstlove]

"He's the war minister," is Athos' proud declaration. While she's correct in that having Treville accept the post would have been the best solution from the very start, he knows that Treville would have been uncomfortable and there's no reason to think Rochefort still wouldn't get his claws into the King. "If he did take up the position, would you still have aimed yourself so high as King's mistress?"

As willing as Athos is for a second chance, there's still a bitterness there.

[aspecialkindofwoman]

Her face closes off a little at that, her hand still at her throat, tracing the ribbon that hides her scar. "I needed an opportunity. I had to look out for myself, Athos."

Will that still outweigh what she did after. "You know, now," she tries instead, "that I didn't lie to you. That I helped you and what I said. You know that now to be true."

[armedagainstlove]

He breathes in and allows her words to settle in his mind. He understands that she's been protecting herself, but it still aches to think of her in the King's arms, allowing him to have his way with her. Athos wonders if he had simply believed her, or maybe if he could have prevented the ordeal with Thomas, if all this could be different.

"Yes, I know," he agrees, staring down at the glove. "I came after you, but I don't know that I can go to England with you, Anne."

[aspecialkindofwoman]

Of course it all could have been different. Their lives, the last five years at least would be entirely, so completely different as to be unrecognizable. Foreign.

"Not as the captain of the Musketeers," she agrees, looking down as well. Her selfishness, asking to him to go when given such responsibility; she knows he would not. Could not. Milady de Winter is no fool.

She lets out a breath, forcing her shoulders back, and she looks up at his face. "So, you have come to tell me that you're returning to Paris, then."

[armedagainstlove]

"Yes," he agrees, but Athos does not take his eyes off of her completely, for he has more to say. Perhaps he would not, if not for this opportunity, but he does. "And no," he continues, hoping that he had not paused too long. "I believe we have the opportunity to strike compromise and allow us both the lives we wish, and the ones we once had."

[aspecialkindofwoman]

She had turned away some, it's true. Why linger? What could possibly be said after such a statement? What could follow that would not be crushing?

So, Milady turns, her gaze sharp over her shoulder. "And how do you propose we do that?" she asks, waiting. Wondering. (And yes hoping, despite herself.)

[armedagainstlove]

Athos feels as if she is missing the obvious answer right in front of him. "Are we not in a place that allows time to stop? Allows us to be together, yet pursue the individual lives that you and I might both want. I can still be Captain of the Musketeers, you can seek out whatever freedom you wish, and we can still be together here," he says.

"Is that not a viable option to you?"

[aspecialkindofwoman]

Facing him straight on, Milady finds her hands clasped in front of herself. "Is that what you want, Athos?" he asks. Since he hasn't exactly stated that, she doesn't assume. Taking a step forward and then another, perhaps her expression is something of a challenge, a defensive mask.

[armedagainstlove]

He nods, cautious and slow. It has been hard to admit, but his heart has not quite been ready to move on from his wife, despite how very hard it had been to admit it. "Yes," he manages, voice hoarse as anything as he stares at her, so desperate to understand what he feels. He closes his eyes tightly and leans forward to press his forehead to hers. "I want to try once more, but I cannot give up the Musketeers. Will you allow that of me?"

[aspecialkindofwoman]

Even as he speaks, her eyes slip closed. Everything about him is familiar, even with a new uniform: his scent, the feel of him so close to her. She breathes, feeling the constriction of her corset, the way her heart beats so very quickly with something that feels almost like hope.

"I would expect no less of you," she murmurs. What is Athos, now, without the Musketeers?

Eventually, though, she does pull back and look up at him, searching his face, even as she reaches up to touch his cheeks. When they are here, then, in this place, they will be together.

[armedagainstlove]

He leans into the touch, not wanting to show the rapid beating of his heart, but this close, he is sure that Anne can feel it. He feels unsteady and young, giving his heart away and to the same woman. He knows that he should think it a mistake, but cannot. For he still loves her with all his heart, even the parts of him that hate her.

Easing closer to her now, he shifts them until he can pin her up against the nearest wall to kiss her, as he has always wanted to do with her so near.

[aspecialkindofwoman]

Perhaps she is unclear if it is his heart or hers. But she forgets that when she feels her shoulderblades clatter against the wall and feels his lips on hers. Her hands fist in his tunic and she kisses back just as hungrily, feeling everything in her surge closer and heat.

Beyond everything else, beyond the hate that has existed, is this. This heat and desire that obliterates all else.

[armedagainstlove]

It feels as though they have never had trouble with this. They have always been so good at the physical passion that held them together, and it bleeds right back to him now. Breathless, needy, and yet pushing it down, he eases back to breathlessly pant against her lips.

He has been so controlled, so careful, and she draws it right back out of him. "Anne," he exhales breathlessly, opening his eyes to stare at her. "Can I trust you?"

[aspecialkindofwoman]

There's a flash - like ice down her back - at being asked that. But then she remembers: we have no reason to trust each other.

Her eyes searching his, she nods. If there's one thing she's not, it's a fool. She knows what this opportunity means and she means to make the most of it.

[armedagainstlove]

He knows that he would have given her his trust, even though it might have been foolhardy to do so. Cautiously, carefully, he decreases the space between them as he drifts ever closer again to give her a longing look. "Are we going to go your room or mine?" And that begs the question of logistics, because if they're going to make a proper try of it again, do they slip back into marriage or begin ever again?

[aspecialkindofwoman]

Athos's room is near the other Musketeers'. Anne's is a goodly distance away, intentionally. And since they always were married, it makes sense that they somehow- if it's possible - find their way back to that. (That seems so foreign, though, that that isn't exactly forefront to her mind.

No, right now is that desire that she sees, that she feels. With a nod down the hall, she takes his hand, leading him to her room. It's a mimicking of her room at the Louvre, though only she knows this: big and airy with a four-poster bed that hasn't been made (she wasn't imagining she'd have company).

With the door closed behind them, she steps close to him again, chin canted up to kiss him.

[armedagainstlove]

Athos feels as if he is struck in a daydream the whole of the time they walk, made worse (or better, if he's truly honest) when they are behind the privacy of her door and he can allow so many of his walls to begin crumbling. He has always remained so staunch and steady, but she has always known how to take him apart.

He splays two, then three fingers against her neck, his gloves still preventing skin on skin contact, but lips to lips is enough for now.

[aspecialkindofwoman]

Just that is enough to make her skin flush along her neck and chest, obvious around the choker she still wears. She peels her own gloves off, letting them fall to the floor to be put away later. Then even as she tastes his lips, she pulls first at his weapons belts, deftly unbuckling them so that she can get to the buttons of his doublet.

[armedagainstlove]

There should be more mistrust, but perhaps it is simply that it has been so long (not the years it should be, but certainly longer than most married men must cope with), but he feels inclined to pull away and explain something before they go further. "Anne," he murmurs, kissing down her neck and skipping the choker.

"Something happened in one of the worlds here. A place called Las Vegas."

[aspecialkindofwoman]

When he says that, Anne opens her eyes. Clearly this wouldn't be brought up if this wasn't important. She pushes away, hands still in his doublet. All she does then is arch a brow.

What now?