Swept Away

In her eyes I see her reminisce of many nights ago. Recollecting our unison of that which did evidently glow. Her sensual lines lay bare next to me, once my inhibitance took place and left her baring with child, the King, who we now honorably proclaim. My ownership to him will never take place, for he is our sovereign ruler, one who now expects to take the front lines of a war we all must face.

The ongoing task of guarding such a life, has never been a burden. For his is a treasure, one that clearly claims the throne in the house of Bourbon. To watch him grow and prosper has been undoubtedly a joy. But in his thriving grace, arrogance comes with deploy. And now I must join him to protect the crest he holds, as nothing would hold me back primarily from my boy that fathering arms never came to hold. A boy who wants to be a man and join the ranks of honour. In doing this his life could be threatened and leave me to despairingly holler. My hidden feelings for him, I could never truly show, as those who would witness such an event would surely see to my arrest.

I stand now in the proximity of her, the one who stole my heart years ago, the one that I love more than France itself and at times our glorious God above.

Her impending smile awakes my gravely, pondering demeanour and her essence like that of a sweet dove. Deliberately taking my time to answer and enjoy the light in her eyes, wishing my hand could rest upon her cheek is where my mind wanders in our ties.

Awaiting still, I take pride in my answering as I turn to gaze away, a hint of a grin conquering brims as she has left me mesmerized with her lips I can still taste on mine, tender and succulent array.

Bowing respectively before tactful words take precedence over the stirring in my breeches. She leaves like me this always, a fan of feathers for my shielding would now be most agreeable. Rising to stand tall before her, I catch that smile of knowing. I clear my throat and press my toned arms at my side,  and now hoping she does not resign.

“Your Majesty, I will do all I can to persuade him otherwise. Although his mind is set, this I know and hopefully something we both won’t regret” Stalling in haste as my words slip out, hopefully leaving her with no sense of doubt. Beginning once more with the sweep of a hand as I try to reassure her of my intention to disband.

“I will converse with him promptly and remind of him of the dangers. His presence is needed here and not where his life could end abruptly. I do not doubt his abilities”

Grinning proudly, but ensures my grin dissipates noting the concern on her features, then looks more serious once more letting out calm breath.

“But his standing as the King should take precedence over his will to prove his strength as a man at the front lines”.

I watch closely as she idles closer in a gown I could tear from her supple form. Take her in my arms and satisfy her every need as I grab at my belt to distract me from my inward hunger, glancing elsewhere to break eye contact and better concentrate on my task as a soldier…a father who wants only the best for his son I will never come to claim.

Written by @AddictiveAramis

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The Request

He offers me his arm and we move slowly and confidently to the private salon, my hand gently resting atop his.  If anyone were to look, they would see the perfect picture of a Queen and one of her Musketeers, the brightest and best of all the King’s regiments. But they would not see what is in my heart, that he is the brightest of them all to me.

We are in the salon and the door is closed. We cannot remain here, unaccompanied, for too long.  The years have passed since Rochefort’s mania and lies were revealed, his fate a traitor’s death, but there are those who still watch us, ready to see fault in a Spanish Queen, in a time of war with Spain.

My hand remains on his momentarily, allowing myself the briefest touch upon his skin. There is much we need to discuss and so little time.

“Aramis” I turn to face him, looking up into brown eyes, peerless in their intensity.  I am suddenly aware of his closeness and my heart is a flutter, aware of his heat and his toned, muscular frame. Yearning to reach up and touch his face, but instead I take a step back “there is a matter I wish to discuss with you that concerns the King.” Our son. The words are left unsaid but lay heavy in the air between us.

“He has decided that he wants to join his army at the front.”  I feel my agitation growing as I speak, but fight to retain my composure. “Both Minister Treville and I have endeavoured to make him see that it is in best interests of France that he does not do this, that our country could be plunged into chaos if he were to be killed, but like any young man he is keen to prove himself in battle; he wants to be seen as the great warrior king, like his grandfather.” I pause, and continue softly, *shifting my gaze slightly* “He respects you Aramis, as a man and as a soldier, and it would be of great help to us, to me, if you would speak to him.” I scan his face for any reaction to my somewhat unorthodox request then continue. “I could arrange a meeting to discuss our military tactics, and whilst there you could tell him of the realities of war. He only see the nobility and the glory, he does not see the fear, the pain, the bloodshed. I do not doubt his bravery or his skills” I smile as I think of my handsome, headstrong son “he takes after his father” the dark curls, the confident, some would say cocky, demeanour so like the man standing before me “but he must put the needs of our realm first, it benefits no-one but our enemies if France were to lose her King.”

On the outside I am Regent of France, bound by duty to protect her people and her King, but on the inside I am a mother afraid of losing her only child.

I see them almost every day, those who have lost sons and husbands to this pitiless war, listless and without purpose, the light from their eyes extinguished from grief and fear for their future.  We live in an age where life and death walk hand in hand, but I am not ready to join the ranks of the dead-eyed.

I turn away and calmly sit down as I await a reply from Aramis, when I would rather run to him. I want him to gather me in his arms and hold me tight, I want to feel his soft lips on mine, hear him whisper that we are all safe.  Taste, touch, scent, sight and sound, I want him to overwhelm my senses; I want to surrender to him, heart, body and soul.

My mind drifts back to a night in a convent in the countryside.  We lay bodies entwined, our need for each other sated, my head resting on his chest, feeling the strong steady beat of his heart in the night. Then, as now, in the midst of great peril, his proximity gives me comfort and hope.  The world comes crashing back to me, I do not know how I would survive if I lost those whom I love.

Written by @LaReineRegent

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Swept away

Court is where I am presently stationed, while @Musketeer_Athos returns from his brief leave to attend to his family and farm. There was the opportunity to attend with him, but instead, I agreed to attend to her. Accustom to being at her side and overseeing the safety of her precious life. A life I would give up for my own. Just to know her heart still beats for mine.

Standing in my leather clad uniform, toned arms at my side as she sweeps in like a calming breeze that brings a sense of comfort when days of monitoring inside these palace walls, can be like a clingy bride.

Her twining locks gently fall around her breasts, then soften around her lines. As she glides forth, her secret smile is everlasting and her eyes they shimmer, avow with mine. Her glance is brief, yet drawing and needless to say, a profession from the heart, is what her eyes give me this day. Although, I know of her love for me as mine is for hers, our limbs and souls have not touched, since outstretched was our creation’s, though she only knew of one birth.

A bow is proffered as she approaches, radiating with her sweet scent. A scent I know too well, since our nights together were spent in harmony and left her belly in a swell. Those aromas fill my senses, an intoxicant allure which leaves me claimed, along with the beauty of her pleasantry of her tone.

“Monsieur Aramis, it is good to see you. May I have a moment with you alone”

Her request made and not one of her demands, as I bow my head and follow that trail of exquisite fragrance without any qualm. Offering my arm before the door, our eyes meet for what seems like forever as time has passed since the bloodshed of war. War that retains her safety, an act I battle tirelessly for. And once our forms pass through the privacy of her chosen chamber, our hearts beat again at normal pace. For what happens now behind those closed doors, will be at her will and I shall sincerely embrace.

Written by @AddictiveAramis

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Anne

The late afternoon light glows in that soft golden hue that comes before the onset of twilight.  The day has been a warm one and I cross to stand by my apartment’s open windows.  I close my eyes to feel the warmth of the sun on my face and to inhale the heady scent of flowers from the gardens below.  Even in the midst of war there are moments of beauty and peace to be found, however fleeting.

Hearing voices I look down to see my son talking to two musketeers. The dark curls move as he laughs and I marvel at his easy charm, but I know that beneath that pleasant demeanour lies a steely resolve, just like his father.  This is a father he will never truly know, for his sake and for the sake of France.

A cool breeze disturbs my hair and I move away from the window to sit at my dresser.  I look into the mirror at the face in front of me, older and wiser than it once was, but a face that loves and has been loved.

I smile to myself.  The days of burning youthful passion may have passed, for us both, but the depth of feeling remains.  All we can share now are glances and stolen moments, but I will love him until I draw my last breath.

Time marches on and I have duties to attend to.  I pull myself out of my reverie, make small adjustments to my hair and leave this private sanctuary for the noise and bustle of court.

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Aramis has a dream

In the feint dim of light, a chest expands when minds rest is awoken. Her features delicate and warm, though her presence met is humbly shaken. Her face has aged with time, but her heart I know to still be mine. Time and war has aged me too, yet we still have some youth and our love still it blooms.

She smiles with that inner flame in her eyes, her lips tender and soft, leaving me hypnotised. Her courage still bares forth as I hold out my hand for hers, and she takes mine extending from her girth.

The loneliness that was in her eyes, filled now with contentment to no surprise. I pull her into me by the waist and slide my arms around her with no such haste. Holding her so close, her heart beat and mine reposed as her head rests beneath my jaw and upon my neck. Feelings dormant are once again met.

She whispers softly of those who came to be. Did I hear right? How could this be? Why does she speak his name? The one she lost…am I to blame?

Guilt riddles my vessel, for his being I have always known. He thrives in loving care. Care I couldn’t give him, not even now would I dare. He is best left alone.

His limbs they grow strong and I see so much of me in him. Although, I know why he favours his surrogate, God’s way of her missing him. Her as in the womb he did come from. His mother, my love, the one gives who me strength, even on days when my life could almost come to an end.

War can change a man, but not steal their soul. My soul and hers combined, a love untold.

Embrace leaves us aching and she distances from me, for eyelids slowly open and this was all but a dream.

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