afineseamstress: (Woman - unsure.)
René d'Herblay, alias Aramis ([personal profile] afineseamstress) wrote2014-12-11 03:30 pm
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It's an old nightmare, and if the reversal of roles is new, Aramis has no knowledge of it. In her dreams her belly swells, her parents rage, but in the end, Aramis feels happiness bloom within her, and in time, she sees it in the features of her husband to be. But the dream turns as it always does, from hope and to despair. She reaches for him with hands only freshly washed of blood, but Étienne still turns from her.

It's an old dream, an awful dream, but bearable for the long years of its endurance. Aramis believes that, right until Étienne turns for one last look, and his face becomes Porthos'.

Aramis wakes with a start, sitting bolt upright in bed with tears still streaming down her face. With a soft curse, she lifts her hands and wipes them away, crawling as carefully as she can out of bed and towards the kitchen.
du_vallon: (sleeping)

[personal profile] du_vallon 2014-12-11 11:49 pm (UTC)(link)
Porthos turns in the middle of the night to search for Aramis, bringing him into his arms. Belatedly, and in the midst of waking, he remembers that it's a her, but more worrisome is that Aramis is nowhere to be found. He shifts, staring through the bedroom and doesn't see her, but there's movement in the kitchen. Porthos shifts and rubs his fingers through his hair, sliding on his slippers as he trudges out, draping his robe over himself.

"Aramis?" he sleepily murmurs. "What is it? Is something the matter?"
du_vallon: (confess your sins)

[personal profile] du_vallon 2014-12-12 12:09 am (UTC)(link)
Awake, a touch chilled, and utterly unable to not attend to her, he wanders behind Aramis and bows his head down to rest his chin on her shoulder, wrapping his arms and the houserobe around the both of them as he wills his body heat to contribute. "Not until you're coming with me," he murmurs, words still a bit slow.

"It's not like you to wake up like this," he observes cautiously.
du_vallon: (halfway to decision)

[personal profile] du_vallon 2014-12-12 11:56 am (UTC)(link)
The question is sudden and hits him hard, lancing him in a way he isn't sure he knows how to deal with. This isn't a conversation they've ever had to have and he knows he can't tell the truth. He can't. It means he has to buckle down, chin up, and face this thing that scares him for her sake. He tightens his embrace, reaching past to close the window before they both catch a cold, and bows his forehead lower. "Don't be silly," he murmurs. "Why wouldn't you give me children?"

"Even if they're not ours by blood, they'll still be ours." He ignores the panic, ignores the guilt, and dives into this strange fake, pretend, and mad world. "Unless you think I'm incapable of getting you pregnant?"
du_vallon: (Default)

[personal profile] du_vallon 2014-12-12 06:28 pm (UTC)(link)

He curls her in closer, hand drifting lower to rest just over her stomach, as if offering some kind of warmth and reassurance. "Okay, I think we need a little something to drink. Hot tea, maybe something to spike it?" he suggests, rubbing his hands over hers. "And we should talk."

They probably should have talked about this months ago and while this won't be the last one they have, it might at least solve some of their issues. "We should have talked about all of this a while ago."

du_vallon: (Default)

[personal profile] du_vallon 2014-12-12 07:08 pm (UTC)(link)

"I'm equally at fault," he replies softly, because he knows that he's more at fault when he's honest. When things are normal, when they're regular, he's the one dragging his heels. "No," he says, because he wants to be honest. "You know, we both know, that I'm more at fault." He uses the collar of his robe to wipe away at the tears and escorts her to a chair to sit before turning on the kettle on the stove, dragging out the brandy to help.

"I'm the one who's been more fearful. You've been pushing me along, thankfully," he murmurs gratefully.

du_vallon: (Default)

[personal profile] du_vallon 2014-12-12 07:25 pm (UTC)(link)

He plucks it out of her hands, wrapping it around her shoulders and giving them a rub that he hopes is comforting, a tender look on his face. "Because you're the nurturer. Because you're still a soldier and a good mother, because you take care of us, of me," he says emphatically. "Not just stitching, but making sure we're careful and minded after. Maybe it's not nurturing. You're our protector, and that's what a mother should be, isn't it?"

du_vallon: (Default)

[personal profile] du_vallon 2014-12-12 08:09 pm (UTC)(link)

"Is that what my scars are?" he asks with general bemusement, a twinkle in his eye as he stares at her. "This one, here?" he says, for the one on his face. "This is a cut?" He leans in for a kiss to dissuade her from worry, not wanting her to think he's being cruel.

"You are fierce and valiant and strong and a protector. You'll nurture and be warm and soft," he insists. "And I...I am scared, too."

du_vallon: (soft eyes)

[personal profile] du_vallon 2014-12-13 12:38 am (UTC)(link)
He closes his eyes at the touch, that intoxicating thing that always bespells him so easily. "Because I know we're in this, you and I, together. I just worry that we're going to get there and be parents and you might realize that I'm not as quick a learner in this as I want to be," he admits, his fears coming out in the dead of night.

"What happens if I'm not a great father and you get tired of me? If you want someone else?"
du_vallon: (introspective)

[personal profile] du_vallon 2014-12-13 12:28 pm (UTC)(link)
It's a bit different than usual, obviously, but Porthos can't help but wonder if his Aramis thinks that deep down, if they can't manage children properly, that he'll grow tired and leave. It's an awful thing to worry about and he shifts so that he can pick Aramis up with ease, forcibly curling them together until the tea water boils. "I would never leave you," he vows, so sure of that, so sure of this one thing. "I don't fall out of love lightly, Aramis. People usually leave me and I still keep loving them, quietly and firmly. I've picked you, you've picked me, and that's that."

It's as simple as that. His loyalty and his love are settled. He wraps his arms tightly around her waist and buries his face in the tattoo on her neck. "Besides," he mumbles, muffled. "What you're saying is impossible. We'll have a family, no matter what."
du_vallon: (sword)

[personal profile] du_vallon 2014-12-13 06:38 pm (UTC)(link)
"But don't you see? It's because of that childhood that I know we'll be fine," he insists, his eyes clear and true as he wraps himself fully around her, refusing to balk for a single second. "I know how much those children need love, just as I know what I yearned for. So I know we can both have children and take them in and both or neither would be fine," he vows. "Because even if it's just you and me and Athos, that's family, isn't it? And Allison?" he reminds her.

"I trust we'll make a family, chou," he assures, giving her a worried look. "Can I ask what brought this on?"
du_vallon: (cold truth)

[personal profile] du_vallon 2014-12-14 01:55 pm (UTC)(link)
Porthos takes the time to curl in and kiss each knuckle, paying slow and soft attention to them as they're due. He wonders if Aramis had been scared like this before, if Isabelle would make him worry when he's normal, but he feels he needs to soothe this ache. "I do think you'll have no trouble giving us children," he says. "I'm still scared about how good a father I'll be, but that's just me. I've never really been the one to be a father figure," he points out. "You and Athos, you're both better at that. I'm a good older brother, but I need the both of you to show me how to be responsible and strict."

"And maybe we should talk about timing," he adds, since they're getting everything out there.
du_vallon: (proud)

[personal profile] du_vallon 2014-12-15 12:04 am (UTC)(link)
"I want some time after we get married to figure out who we are as a couple, then," Porthos says, which is good to get out in the open. They really probably ought to have had this talk a long time ago, because it's clearing the air. "Plus, there are things I'd like in place before we start. The house in the country, even if it's only the shell," he offers as example.

He shrugs, idly braiding some of the strands of Aramis' hair before him, his fingers soothed by the constant motion. "A year? Maybe eighteen months after we get married?"
du_vallon: (pay your due)

[personal profile] du_vallon 2014-12-15 04:13 am (UTC)(link)
He strokes her hair, wondering if this is what Aramis wants, really, or if this is just because in this state, Aramis thinks she can carry the children. "Eighteen months, the baby is in our lives," he clarifies. "Which means pregnant at nine months from the wedding. Is that really so long? I feel as if it will take us at least that long just to find the right house." For Porthos, who's never owned property (and couldn't, legally), the idea of a house is daunting and has a great number of things to do.

Of course, he's probably wrong, but he has no experience in this.

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