#muskebaby louis

[anamariamauricia]

An excerpt from my Annamis-centric 3x09 rewrite:

"These are the musketeers who are going to accompany you on your important mission," Anne told Louis as she knelt down next to him. "This is d'Artagnan," she gestured. "He's known as the King's champion." D'Artagnan smiled and inclined his head, and then she directed Louis' attention to Aramis. "And this is Aramis, the bravest of the King's Musketeers."

Louis looked Aramis up and down, his little eyebrows knitted together. "If you're the bravest, then why aren't you the King's champion?"

Smiling for the first time since her son became king, Anne glanced up to see a smile playing at Aramis' own lips. "Because he's my champion," she explained, holding Aramis' gaze, hoping that he understood how much she meant it.

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[obvious-captain-rogers]

Days in the Sun

This is the story about the Musketbabies that @thisisnotbucky and I came up. (With a hats off to @phil-the-stone for names and her lovely Muskebabies stories, which I will admit influenced me about Athos and Sylvie’s son). Named after the song from Beauty and the Beast.

Little Alexandra d’Artagnan’s reaction to meeting her siblings when they’re born.

Alexandra is three years old. She loves her Maman, her Papas (there are four of them!), sword fighting, her siblings (that aren’t quite her siblings just like all her Papas aren’t quite her actual Papa) and running in the woods like (as Maman says) a heathen. She hates dresses, shoes, having her hair brushed, and waiting. And that’s exactly what Alexandra was stuck doing. Very, very early in the morning (before the sun was even up) Papa Porthos came in and bundled Alexandra into a coat. He explained as he plaited her hair that Maman was having the baby and that they were going to go to her so Maman wouldn’t worry. Alexandra rubbed at her eyes sleepily as Papa Porthos lifted her into his arms (the best place to be most times) and they walked to the palace where the Queen insisted Maman have her baby. That’s where they were now, waiting. The sun was up and Papa Athos and Papa Porthos were standing watch over Alexandra, Charles, Raoul, and Marie-Cessette. Charles was sleeping in his bassinet while the latter two were playing but Alexandra just stared at the door that hid Maman from her. She winced slightly as a particularly painful shout filtered through the doors. Papa Porthos, who had been watching her, moved over to scoop her up and press a smacking kiss to her cheek. “Come on, pup.” He ruffled her hair and she smiled weakly, dark eyes never moving away from where they were fixed to the door. “Why don’t you and I go and get some breakfast, you’re hungry aren’t you?” Her Papas teased her that she was always hungry just like her actual Papa. She shook her head. “No? Well, why don’t we go anyway?” “I wanna stay,” she said quietly and finally looked to Papa Porthos. “Take Charles if you want company.” Papa Porthos laughed at that which made Papa Athos raise an eyebrow at them, having not heard what the little girl has said. “I’m gonna take you, your Maman will be alright if you’re gone just for a minute,” Papa Porthos reassured, not even having to ask what was wrong. Papa Porthos was magical like that. “Promise?” Alexandra asked, a furrow crumbling her whole face. “On my honor as a Musketeer,” Papa Porthos said seriously and so Alexandra finally nodded. They walked together quietly to the kitchens. That was another thing that made Alexandra feel safe with Papa Porthos: he never tried to pry anything from her when she just needed a little quiet. Papa Porthos settled her onto the counter as he spoke quietly to a kitchenmaid. She folded her hands in her lap and played with the end of her braid. She tried not to swing her legs because her feet would bang against the cabinets, Maman hated when her feet banged against the cabinets at home. The thought made tears suddenly prick at her eyes. She sniffed and then her chin was being tilted up so that she was looking up at Papa Porthos. “What’s wrong, pup?” “What if something happens to Maman?” Papa Porthos’s eyes got wide and he shook his head. “Your maman is the strongest woman in the whole wide world. Nothing can hurt her. She’s a musketeer too, and musketeers-” “Don’t die easily,” Alexandra finished with a watery grin. Papa Porthos tweaked her nose and smiled. “That’s right,” he said and winked. “Now, let’s get this breakfast back upstairs.” Alexandra held her arms out to be lifted and Papa Porthos happily obliged. He carried her on his hip with a basket of breakfast in his free hand. When they got back Raoul and Marie-Cessette ran over to peek into what Papa Porthos had gotten them for breakfast. Alexandra wiggled down and walked over to Papa Athos, leaning her head into his hip tiredly. He placed a hand on her head and stroked her hair back from her eyes like she’d seen him do to Maman. She sighed contentedly and moved to sit at his feet with her head pressed against his knee. She glanced over to where Charles was settled and reached out to brush her fingers over his tiny hand. She sighed and when Papa Porthos handed her a warm roll she picked it apart mostly without eating it. She jumped when she heard a door open and immediately looked to where Maman was but that door was firmly shut. She looked over to the other door and blinked owlishly as she watched the Queen, Papa Aramis, and Louis walk into the room tentatively. They all walked over to Papa Athos, who she was still leaning against (his knee was especially comfy, it must be the soft leather of his boots), and Papa Athos dipped into a bow. “Athos, please,” the Queen said with a wave of her hand and a gentle smile on her face. “How is she?” “Constance is still in labor, no sight of the babe.” Papa Athos shrugged and Alexandra jerked straight up when they heard a shriek from Maman. Papa Athos crouched and lifted her into his arms to stroke her hair softly. “Shouldn’t be too long now I hope.” “As do I,” the Queen said and her face twisted in concern as she looked over at the closed doors. Louis tugged on his mother’s sleeve and the Queen turned to look at him with a smile. “May I go play until we can see Madame d’Artagnan?” Louis asked and Alexandra peeked down at him. She smiled against Papa Athos’s neck as she took in the unruly mop of blond curls on his pretty head. She bit her lip and buried her face in Papa Athos’s neck when Papa Aramis winked at her after noticing her staring at Louis. Papa Athos pressed a gentle kiss to Alexandra’s head and set her down. “You should go play as well,” he said softly before pushing her off in the direction of the other children. She frowned at him but he only raised an eyebrow before she relented (with an eyeroll like Papa’s when Papa Athos swatted him in the bum to motivate him) and walked over to the others. It seemed like forever before Papa burst out of the room (the door banged against the wall making Papa Aramis and Papa Athos flinch in unison) with a huge smile nearly splitting his face in half. He said something to Alexandra’s other Papas and the Queen before coming over and sweeping Alexandra up into his arms. He spun her around and peppered kisses all over her face before settling her on his hip. “Are you ready to meet your new sister?” Alexandra felt her stomach twist nervously and Papa noticed immediately. “It’s okay, everything alright now.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead like she saw him do to Maman. It made her stomach feel warm and she smiled. “Okay,” she said quietly and Papa started back into the room where Maman was. She was sweaty and pale (like she sometimes got when she and her Papas fought until she cried) and looked so small in the big bed. Even smaller was the bundle in Maman’s arms. Papa settled her down on the bed next to Maman before sitting on the edge of the bed with a smile. “Maman…?” “It’s alright, love. Nothing to be afraid of,” Maman smiled tiredly and brushed a stray hair out of Alexandra’s face. “Papa and I would like you to meet your baby sister.” Maman tilted the baby toward her so she could see. She peered at the tiny baby and moved to brush a hand over her sister’s little nose. “We named her Elayna. Elayna d’Artagnan.” Maman smiled so brightly at the baby that Alexandra knew that everything was going to be alright. ~     .....     ~    Alexandra is five years old. When Papa Athos comes into her and Elayna’s lessons she knows what’s happening. Maman said the baby could come an day now and Alexandra remembered when Elayna was born so she’s calm (because she’s an expert on babies now, thank you very much).    Papa Athos makes her put on her shoes (which she still does not like very much) and takes her hand as he lifts little Elayna onto his hip. Her sister hides her face into Papa Athos’s neck as they walk down the familiar hallway to the rooms where Maman was having the baby.    Alexandra sat with Marie-Cessette who was embroidering (of all things). She offered to teach Alexandra but the girl shook her head and wrinkled her nose in disgust. She sighed heavily as she watched the repetitive motion of Marie-Cessette’s needle poking through the fabric. It made her smile but also made her chest knot up tightly. If she just focused on her friend’s hands she could pretend they were Maman’s. (Alexandra always loved to watch Maman stitch Papa’s shirts. It made her feel safe and warm, Maman said it made her feel like that to do it.)    After a while Charles and Raoul came from their lessons too with Papa Porthos in front of them and Papa Aramis trailing in at the end. Alexandra peeked to see if Louis was with Papa Aramis. (He was like a shadow she remembered hearing Papa say one time with a smile. Papa Aramis had frowned in that tight-lipped disapproving way that she hardly ever saw and the subject had been abruptly changed by Papa Athos.) She slid down from the bench and moved over to where her Papas were standing.    “Papa Aramis,” she said quietly and peeked again out the door to make sure that Louis wasn’t coming, “is Louis going to be here?”    Papa Aramis smiled and then laughed as he pulled her up so they were eye to eye. Her shins were pressed to his chest and she held onto the velvety material of his shirt. “And why are you so eager to see our young king? Hm?” Alexandra didn’t know why but Papa Aramis’s smiles and questions made her face feel hot. She squeezed the fabric in her hands and frowned at the shiny buttons on his shirt.    “We’re friends,” she managed to mumbled out.    “Leave her alone, Aramis.” Papa Athos frowned at her and took her from Papa Aramis’s arms to escort her back to her seat next to Marie-Cessette. “Would you like something to do?” He asked quietly and Marie-Cessette settled her embroidery in her lap to look at him primly.    “I offered to teach her to sew,” Marie-Cessette said with a put-upon expression. Papa Athos tucked her blonde hair behind her ear with a small smile.    “And I’m sure you’d do an excellent job, but I have a feeling Alexandra’s not meant for sewing. Why don’t you ask Elayna?” Marie-Cessette seems to brighten at that and she gathered up her little sewing basket and moved to where Elayna was staring out the window. “Come on, I have an idea.” He took her hand and looked at the boys who were wrestling around with each other playfully. “Would you boys like to join us?” Papa Athos asked with a slight frown at Raoul who had Charles by the ankles.    Raoul nodded and let go of Charles’s ankles to run over to his father. “What is it Papa?”    “Alexandra and I are gonna take a walk outside. Would you like to come with us?” Raoul’s eyes lit up and he nodded vigorously. Charles toddled over and held onto the edge of Raoul’s shirt.    “Come now, Charlie,” Raoul said and lifted the three year old onto his hip with a huge smile. “We’re going outside.” Charles smiled toothily as they started walking toward the door to the outside. Raoul kept Charles balanced on his hip until the boy started to squirm.    Alexandra squirmed too to be let down and Papa Athos settled her down but kept a hold of her hand. “So what are we doing outside?” She asked and glanced up at him.    “I thought we might go and have a little lesson,” Papa Athos said with a quirk of his mouth that wasn’t quite a smile. Alexandra groaned and blew her bangs out of her eyes with a scowl. “You might like this lesson if you just wait and see.”    Alexandra sighed and frowned up at Papa Athos. “You keep too many secrets,” she stated and when they went outside he let go of her hand. She waited a moment and then turned to face him, her hands on her hips. “So?” She demanded in a way that usually had Maman admonishing her for being rude.    Papa Athos cracked a small smile. (The same one he gave Papa when Maman said that he was being amusingly difficult.) “I’m going to teach you to hold a sword. All of you,” Papa Athos said and looked at the boys. All their eyes got big and Raoul rocked on his feet like he did when he was excited.    “Truly, Papa?”    “Would I lie to you, Raoul?” Papa Athos raised an eyebrow. He shook his head and his dark curls flounced even after he stopped. “Then I suppose we’re going to learn to hold a sword, aren’t we?”    “And I can too?” Alexandra asked and frowned slightly. Other than her Maman, she didn’t know any woman that wielded swords.    “I don’t see why not,” Papa Athos shrugged and moved to pick up three sticks. He handed the shortest one to Charles, a longer one to Raoul, and the middle one to Alexandra.    It took a few times but after a while she was getting the hang of it. She was clumsy but Papa Athos was nodding at her when she asked if she was doing it right. Papa Athos looked over to the doorway when Papa Aramis poked his head out.    “Another girl!” Papa Aramis called and smiled brightly. Papa Athos took the play swords from them and Alexandra took off to head back inside. When she crashed inside Papa was already outside of Maman’s room with Elayna in his arms and looking as if he was headed outside to look for her.    “Papa!” She grinned and crashed into his legs, burying her face in thigh. He ran his fingers through her hair (which had fallen out of it’s braid as it always does). “I have another sister?” She asked and looked up at him hopefully.    “That you do,” Papa said and swung her up onto his other hip. “Would you two like to meet her?” Alexandra nodded but Elayna hesitated slightly first.    Papa carried them in and plopped them down on the foot of Maman’s bed as he settled next to her. Papa smiled at their baby sister in a way that made Alexandra smile too. Maman was just as tired looking as she had looked when Elayna was born. Alexandra shuffled forward until she was tucked under Papa’s chin and could see the baby.    “What’s her name?” Alexandra said quietly. She felt like she should be quiet (something about the new baby said quiet).    Papa smiled and he traced the baby’s hand where it curled around the blanket before she grasped onto Papa’s finger. “Her name is Violetta,” Papa said just as softly as Alexandra had spoken before. He smiled before pressing a light kiss to the baby’s, Violetta’s, forehead. He kissed Alexandra’s head before holding his arms out for Elayna. He kissed her head as well as she settled onto his knee.    “Violetta,” Alexandra said slowly, testing her sister’s name on her tongue. She liked it.    “Would you like to hold her?” Maman asked and Alexandra’s eyes widened as she nodded slowly. “d’Artagnan, help me.” Papa moved Alexandra’s arms so that Maman could place the baby there safely. “Mind her head now, love.” She smoothed Alexandra’s hair away from her eyes once the baby was nestled safely.    Alexandra smiled down at Violetta even as Elayna leaned over and nearly knocked her head into Alexandra’s. She smiled over at each member of her family. She even smiled as Papa kissed Maman. (And kissing was icky.) ~     …..     ~    Alexandra is six years old. She’s angry at her Papas and her Maman. She was angry because she was excited for this baby. This baby was supposed to be hers. (Well, the baby was obviously Maman and Papa’s but that’s not the point.)    She scuffs her boots angrily on the floor and doesn’t even look up when Papa places a placating hand on her shoulder. “Alexandra, please stop.” His voice is calm and steady and that makes her even more angry as she wrenched her shoulder away from him.    Papa Athos is inside this time when Maman goes into labor. She knows why because she overheard Papa and Papa Athos fighting. The memory floods forward and drowns out her anger for a moment.    She’d heard the voices from where she was curled up in bed with Elayna. She slipped out of bed and padded over to the door. “Alexandra, don’t. Maman and Papas will be cross if they catch you out of bed.” Alexandra had merely stuck her tongue out at her sister and moved to creep down the stairs. (She was careful of the one that creaked. It’d given her away on more than one nightly escape.) She stood on the bottom stair and peeked just so around the corner and into the dining room where Maman and her Papas were still sitting. Papa Porthos was frowning with his arms crossed, Papa Aramis was looking rather pale, Maman had her hands folded over the slight swell of her stomach where the baby was growing, Papa Athos was staring blankly ahead, and Papa was pacing angrily. Papa had been the one to shout and knock something off the table.    Papa’s face was twisted up in hurt as he stopped pacing to stare at Papa Athos. Alexandra wanted to go and throw her arms around him until he was happy and smiling again but she couldn’t. She was supposed to be in bed.    “I understand you are upset, d’Artagnan,” Papa Athos said softly. So softly that Alexandra knew his heart was hurting too. His blue eyes were now trained on the table. Papa growled in his throat and started pacing angrily again. “If I were you I would throw me out-”    “Athos!” Maman said and took his hand gently.    “I’m being honest with him, Constance.” He squeezed Maman’s hand before continuing. “But, that’s not what either of us want. If it is, tell me and I’ll be gone by morning.”    Papa stopped dead in his tracks and stared. Maman had gone white like Papa Aramis, clutching to Papa Athos’s hand in a way Alexandra had never seen before. Papa Porthos uncrossed his arms and slowly stood. Everyone’s eyes dragged over to him as he opened his mouth.    “We all knew,” Papa Porthos started carefully. His words were always careful when he could feel someone was very upset. “This was always a possibility, pup.” He moved to gently take Papa’s hand in his own. “I know that if it were my Elodie I’d be furious.” Papa Porthos shook his head before pressing a kiss to Papa’s hand and Alexandra could feel her eyes filling up with tears even though she didn’t know why. “Athos is family, and we aren’t throwing out family. I don’t care how angry you are with him, with Constance, or with me for saying it. You’ll only make yourself more miserable, and you’ll upset the children.”    Papa’s jaw worked in a way that spoke of how much he wanted to snap and say something he didn’t mean. Alexandra had the same thing happen to her when she was upset. He pulled his hand away from Papa Porthos’s and stormed off. Alexandra realized too late that he was heading for the stairs, which she was standing on. He stopped short right before he ran into her and they froze, staring at each other.    “Come here, love.” He held out his arms for her and she threw herself at him. He lifted her up and rubbed her back. She glimpsed everyone in the dining room’s shocked faces before she buried her face in the familiar leather of Papa’s uniform. “What are you doing out of bed?” He asked as his hands rubbed warm circles into her back. “Hm?”    “I heard shouting,” she said and bit her lip before pulling away to look at him. “I’m sorry, Papa.”    “No,” he said and brushed his thumb over her cheeks to clear them of tears. “I’m sorry for waking you. Let’s get you back into bed with your sister.” He carried her up the stairs and tucked her into bed. Elayna was already fast asleep. “Would you like to hear another story?” He asked softly so he wouldn’t wake her sister. She nodded and Papa started to think before launching into the story of how he’d met her Maman and her other Papas. Halfway through the story he looked so sad that Alexandra took his hand and squeezed it with all her might.    “It’ll be okay,” she said softly and she felt so sleepy as she shut her eyes. Papa brushed a kiss to her forehead.    “I hope so, love. I really hope so.”    She was jerked out of her thoughts by Papa pressing a kiss to the top of her head. She frowns at him before sighing heavily and leaning into his side. “Papa…” she starts and then frowns at where she has a piece of cloth and needle in her hands. She had been trying to learn to embroider but she was no good at it because Maman said she lacked patience. Alexandra thought it was because she had better things to learn.    “What is it?” Papa asks patiently.    “Why couldn’t this baby be mine?” She asks finally after a long time. “I wanted it so badly.” She frowned. She’d even tried to take Louis’s advice and pray to God for a little brother. All she had was sisters. Elayna was too sweet like Marie-Cessette for them to have any fun, and Violetta was too small. She wanted a brother that she could wrestle with. A boy would be better.    Papa sucked in a breath. “I…” She looks up at his hesitation and he’s staring at the door where Maman and Papa Athos have gone. “I don’t know, love. I really don’t know.”    “But,” Alexandra can feel the anger bubbling in her blood from her toes to the tips of her ears. “It was supposed to be mine this time!” She felt angry tears burning at her eyes which only made her more angry.    Papa pressed another kiss to her hair and muttered (probably not for her to hear), “I thought the same.” He sighs and says (for her to hear), “That’s just what happened this time around.”    That’s not the answer Alexandra wants and so she jabs her needle into the cloth, so it doesn’t get lost, and throws it to the ground. She’s so upset and hurt and she doesn’t understand because she knows how much Papa Athos wanted another baby of his own, even if he’d never said it out loud, and she should be happy. But she isn’t and neither is Papa.    “Now that’s enough,” Papa said sternly and moved from sitting next to her to crouching in front of her. He takes both her hands in his and pins her with his serious dark eyes that are just like her own. “Just because something isn’t the way you wanted, or isn’t how you planned for it to go doesn’t entitle you to be mean.” Papa blinks like he’s just realized something and then quirks a small smile as he pressed a kiss to each of her hands. “Alexandra, when Maman asks you to come see the baby, will you promise me to try and be happy? Just a little?” She knows it will make Papa happy to say yes, but she’s all twisted up in knots on the inside.    “But you... you were angry too,” she said as if that explained it all. And it did, because this was Papa, and Papa understood her best.    “I was, and I think a part of me still is, but I love your Maman,” he blinks slowly and then leans in and whispers softly, “and I love your Papa Athos too. So I will forgive them even though I’m still knotted up on the inside. So if I try, will you?”    She thought for a moment. She loved Maman and Papa Athos even though they hurt her and Papa’s feelings. She could try because she loved them.    When the doors opened Alexandra and Papa were the first ones to come in. Maman was staring nervously at Papa as she watched him walk into the room, Alexandra’s hand clutching his. Papa Athos held the baby and was standing to the side, away from Maman’s bed. Alexandra moved to climb into Maman’s bed and she settled her head on Maman’s shoulder. “I forgive you,” she said softly as she watched Papa go over to Papa Athos and the new baby.    “I’m glad,” Maman said and pressed a kiss to Alexandra’s forehead. She felt the way Maman relaxed with relief at hearing it.    “So what is her name?” Alexandra asked and looked between Maman and Papa Athos. Maman was smiling in the way that Alexandra knew meant she was keeping a secret, and Papa Athos looked almost nervous. (If Papa Athos ever got nervous that is.)    “Well, she isn’t a she, love,” Maman said and Alexandra’s eyes got big. “The baby is a boy. I’m going to leave the name up to Athos.” She smiled at him and Papa Athos shook his head.    “I couldn’t.”    “He’s your son.”    “So is Raoul and I didn’t name him.”    “Then now is your chance to redeem yourself,” Maman said and she gave Papa Athos an encouraging look. Papa Athos looked down at the baby and a smile pulled at his mouth.    “Thomas. We’ll call him Thomas.” Papa Athos looked at Maman with a light in his eyes that Alexandra didn’t ever remember seeing there. She frowned and looked at Maman.    “When do I get a boy?” She demanded and both her Papas laughed.    “I’ve been asking the same thing since after you were born,” Papa teased as he sat down next to Maman and tucked her hair behind her ear with a gentle kiss. Alexandra huffed dramatically (like Papa Aramis) and flopped into her Papa’s lap (also like Papa Aramis sometimes), but she was smiling.    Even though she didn’t have a brother she had her Papas and her Maman, and that’s all she really needed. ~     …..     ~    Alexandra is nine years old. It’s the worst storm she’s ever seen when Maman tells Papa that the baby is coming. She hates the howling wind and the way it seems to make Maman’s pained sounds seem worse.    It’s been a long time. Longer than with Elayna or Violetta. Certainly longer than with Thomas. It makes Alexandra’s palms sweaty where they’re twisted up in her blanket. She wasn’t allowed to go and sit outside Maman’s room this time. This time she was kept in her room with her sisters, but all the others are piled in there as well. She’s sitting up on the edge with Raoul next to her curled protectively around Thomas. Violetta is sleeping between him and Charles, Elayna next to him, with Marie-Cessette next to her and on the opposite edge that’s pressed to the wall. Alexandra slips out of bed and moves to go downstairs. Her throat is dry and scratchy and she needs a drink of water.    She’s in the dining room where Papa Porthos, Papa Athos, and Papa Aramis are. Papa Porthos is cradling the baby, Jean-Luc, and is the first to notice her. “What’re you doing out of bed, pup?” He asked quietly so as not to wake Jean-Luc.    “I’m thirsty,” she said and her voice did come out raspy. Papa Athos got up and moved to fill a cup with water as Papa Aramis opens his arms for her. She crawls into his lap and he runs a hand through her unplaited hair as Papa Athos hands her her water. She sips at it and leans into Papa Aramis, closing her eyes at the soft touches to her hair. He never yanked like Maman or Madame du Vallon did. (They didn’t mean to but Alexandra was rather uncharitable to anyone other than Papa Aramis when it came to touching her hair.)    She finishes the drink and Papa Aramis sets the cup aside so she doesn’t drop it to the floor. She’s sleepy but she’s also worried about Maman and the baby. She always worries but this time, with the storm and not being at the palace, it seems so much worse.    “If you keep scowling like that you’ll get wrinkles,” Papa Aramis teased as he rubbed his thumb between her eyebrows to smooth away the furrow there. She relaxed and sighed heavily. “It’s alright,” he soothed and buried his nose in her hair. She nodded sleepily.    Papa Aramis started to hum softly. She recognized it as a lullaby that Louis sometimes sang under his breath when he thought no one was listening. He said he was a man grown now and he did not sing lullabies for babies to himself. After a moment Papa Aramis started to sing the words but they were in Spanish so Alexandra didn’t know what they meant or what they were.    After a few moments she started to close her eyes. They were too heavy to keep open and Papa Aramis was always so warm that when she was the least bit tired and he held her, she fell right to sleep. She heard his singing even as she slept.    When she woke up the storm had broken and she was tucked into bed with all the other children, even Jean-Luc was in his bassinet in the corner. She rubbed her eyes and listened carefully. No rain, no thunder, no Maman. A bolt of panic hit her and she stumbled out of bed and flew down the stairs to go and find out what happened. She nearly tripped over her nightgown when she stopped in the doorway of Maman and Papa’s bedroom. All of her parents were asleep: Papa and Maman in their bed with Papa Porthos, Papa Aramis, Madame du Vallon, and Papa Athos in chairs.    She padded over to the crib and blinked down at the baby. The baby slept soundly and she knelt down so she could gently place her hands on the edge of the crib. The baby was so small, much smaller than any of the other babies had been. Her hands itched to cradle her new sibling but she knew that would upset her Maman and her Papas so she didn’t. She waited.    She didn’t wait too long before the baby started to cry. It was soft and nothing like the squalling Alexandra remembered having to endure when Elayna and Violetta were babes, but it woke up the grown-ups in the rooms. Papa started as he noticed Alexandra.    “What-?”    “I wanted to see the baby,” she said and shrugged her small shoulders. She ran a finger over the baby’s fist which immediately latched onto a strand of her dark hair.    “Of course,” Papa said as he lifted her new sibling out of the crib. She followed him closely as he took the baby to Maman. “Wouldn’t expect anything less from my girl.” He scooped her up and tickled her sides.    She laughed and pushed at his hands. “Papa, stop!” She laughed and when he tossed her onto the bed she immediately scrambled to Maman’s side as she quieted the baby. “So?” She blinked expectantly at Maman.    “So.” Maman smiled teasingly and Alexandra squirmed.    “What is it?” She asked impatiently and tossed her hair over her shoulder.    “It’s a boy,” Papa broke in and Alexandra could see the excitement in his face.    Alexandra grinned just as brightly. “What’s his name? What’s his name?” She bounced in her excitement.    “We’ve named him René,” Maman said and she looked at Papa Aramis who suddenly looked very misty-eyed. He smiled and nodded before swiping at his eyes.    “René,” Alexandra said in awe before tucking herself into Maman’s side. “I like it.”    “Well, I’m glad you approve,” Papa laughed and he leaned into Papa Athos’s side. “Shall we wake your sisters and have them meet your new brother?”    Alexandra shot off the bed and ran towards the stairs. “WE HAVE A BROTHER!!! IT’S A BOY!!” She smiled as she heard her Papas burst into laughter behind her.

[anamariamauricia]

An excerpt from the latest chapter of The Future's in Our Hands:

Aramis had been kneeling at Isabelle's grave for several minutes when he heard footsteps approaching, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Louis watching him. "Do you have your knife on you, Sire?" he asked.

Taking a small hunting knife out of his boot, Louis handed it to him. "Did you know her?"

"I did," he replied, digging a hole with the knife and then planting a few daffodil bulbs under the marker.

"How?"

"It's a bit of a long story," he answered, returning the knife and then making the sign of the cross.

Louis looked around before shrugging. "I don't mind."

And so he told Louis about how he had known Sister Hélène as a teenager, when she was just Isabelle, and how they had fallen in love and nearly gotten married. He told Louis about how she left and how he had searched for her for years only to end up finding her by accident. And then he told Louis about the attack on the convent and how Isabelle was killed, skipping over, of course, how he slept with Anne that night afterwards.

"And have you loved another woman since?" Louis asked.

He looked at Louis for a long while before answering, "I've been with a number of women over the years." He leaned closer. "I used to have a bit of a reputation," he added in a low voice.

"But have you loved any of them," Louis emphasized. "Enough to want to get married and have a family?"

He wanted so badly to tell him the truth. It seemed almost a sign for Louis to ask him in this place, in this moment, but…he knew he couldn't. He couldn't burden Louis with his secret. This was just God testing him.

"I love France," he finally answered. "A woman like no other." It was the closest thing to the truth he could say. Anne was like no other woman, and she was a symbol of France.

Louis turned his head away, clearly disappointed with his answer. What answer Louis was looking for, though, he couldn't exactly discern. Surely he couldn't suspect anything between him and Anne.

Read the rest on ao3

[anamariamauricia]

An excerpt from my post S3 Annamis fic:

Once it stopped snowing and she received word that the steps outside had been cleared, Anne ventured out to the gardens to see how Aramis and Louis were faring.

She followed the sweet sound of Louis' peeling laughter, and soon caught sight of Aramis dodging snowballs on the center path. As she approached she spotted Louis' curls flying around on the other side of one of the shorter hedges that they were using as a barrier between them, as well as a place to gather ammunition if they wanted to double up on their attack as she saw Aramis do, with Louis following suit as Aramis retreated.

Aramis ducked and pivoted away from the first snowball, but the next one Louis threw was low, and "caught" Aramis on the ankle, and he proceeded to cry out dramatically and drag his leg along as he further retreated. He caught sight of her as he did, and shot her a quick grin before scooping up a handful of snow and returning fire, narrowly missing Louis.

Hobbling over to her, Aramis held the ends of his cloak out. "Get behind me, Majesty, I will shield you!"

Read the rest of the chapter here: ao3 / ff.net

Or start at the beginning: ao3 / ff.net

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r*chefort hanging out with the dauphin in 2x04:

r*chefort when he sees the dauphin in 2x10:

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musketeers au where everything is the same but the baby has this hair:

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tonight we’re crying over this pic of porthos standing next to his nephew

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anne like really called up the royal seamstress to meet with her and aramis and she really...asked for some new ministerial clothes for aramis and also...to replicate and miniaturize aramis’ uniform for the king

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despite l*uis showering little louis with gifts and attention and trying to distance him from anne and aramis so that he would love him more and remember him after he died, little louis in his last scene is dressed as a musketeer–as aramis, as his father–and looks extremely happy and i think that’s beautiful

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honestly so hilarious and amazing that anne and aramis, the two most genuinely religious characters on the show, met on good friday and later conceive their illegitimate child in a convent in the bed of the mother superior

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i know in my heart* that there’s another scene in 3x02 with anne and little louis where anne probably says something about him being like aramis his father and/or she looks fondly at a toy soldier she’s holding, and this scene is being Withheld from me

*and bc hayley nebauer’s sketches list two other costumes for them in that episode

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I can’t believe I’m only realizing now that little Louis channeled BOTH his parents when he was at the tavern in 3x09 like:

Step One: What would my mother do? Look out a window.

Step Two: What would my father do? Exit via window.

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wOW what if we were nearly given the gift of anne saying “I’ve got you™” to little louis in 3x02 if she had been able to follow through with “mama’s coming to get youuu”

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Louis sitting in Aramis's lap on carriage rides so he can get a better view highkey Louis Requests this and ofc who is Aramis to deny the king,,,, that's cool I love dying

And the roads can be Very bumpy, so Aramis has to hold him tight (for safety reasons). Sometimes on long trips, Louis falls asleep against him and then Anne draws Aramis’ cape/cloak around them if he has one or drapes a blanket they keep in the carriage on them so that Aramis doesnt have to move his arms. If it’s a really long trip through the quiet countryside, they close the curtains, Anne snuggles up to Aramis once Louis is already asleep, and they all nap together.