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[afineseamstress]

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.

Comments

[afineseamstress]

Aramis laughs, too, curling her body even closer to Porthos' warmth. "It is no different than we'd have done at home to cleanse the water. I trust Athos with my life - I will certainly trust him with my childrens'. Besides."

Aramis lifts her chin, mouthing idly at Porthos' ear. "They would be good for him. D'Artagnan brought him forward in leaps and bounds, just think what an actual child might do."

[du_vallon]

"What if it makes him want his own?" Porthos mumbles distractedly, unable to do much clear thinking with the way that Aramis is working at his ear. He misses the scrape of a beard, but at the same time, the smoothness is an intoxicating change that he's not sure he'll get used to.