Work Text:
A voice whispered his name.
A dark alley.
Hands coming out of nowhere grabbing his shoulders.
The pain in the back of his head when his head hit the wall.
Unknown eyes which are so familiar.
A feeling of cold on his forehead.
Severe pain followed.
His knees stopped supporting his weight.
Concerned voices shouted after him.
The darkness.
****
Details were hazy for Aramis, but he had never known so many things in his life. His memories had exploded behind his closed eyes like a starry night. He remembered that Aramis was not his first name and that this was not his first life. No, his first name was Sir Lancelot, Knight of Camelot. He remembered everything now from the death of his family to meeting Merlin, his life with the knights, until his death, twice.
“Wake up, Lance. Camelot needs you again. "
Aramis woke up with a start and opened his eyes. The Musketeer was disappointed to see the familiar walls of his room in the garrison rather than those of his apartments in Arthur's Castle.
“Merlin!" Said a panting Aramis.
"Sorry my friend, it's just me. "
The musketeer jumped. Due to his headache, he hadn't even noticed one of his friends in the room. He would have preferred to be alone so that he could come to his senses, but he will have to improvise, as usual.
"God, Porthos, you scared me! "
"Not as much as you, when you collapsed," Porthos laughed before speaking more seriously, "Are you okay? "
"Nothing worse than usual." To prove this, Aramis got out of bed and walked into his room, aside from his headache and the stiffness in his muscles, he was fine. "How long have I slept?"
" Three days." Porthos gave him time to change and dress before showing him the door. "Come on, Treville wants to talk to you."
"What did I do this time?" Aramis joked as he followed his friend up the garrison stairs.
"Surely something the captain must not be aware of," Porthos teased.
In the end, Aramis hadn't done anything wrong. The old man was only looking for additional information on the musketeer's assailant. It was obvious that Treville or his fellow Musketeers would only take rest when they found his assailant. He had to bite his tongue not to say that Merlin couldn't be found.
Except that he wasn't supposed to know the name of his assailant or to have his voice of "big brother protector", a nickname the Knights and Musketeers had given him strangely. Some things apparently should not change. The thing that changed over the centuries was his ability to lie, Lancelot would have preferred to stab himself rather than lie when Aramis was not against one or two lies here and there.
So, as quietly as possible, he feigned innocence and ignorance, saying that his assailant was wearing a hood and that he wanted his money. Staying elusive about the details seemed to work as Treville nodded as he kicked the two Musketeers out of his office.
The two men walked down the stairs to the courtyard and sit down at their table. Or that's what they were supposed to do until Aramis overheard a conversation that made him stop.
"Did you hear that? The poet finally makes it out alive! "
"Shouldn't he have been executed? "
"For burning potential evidence and lying to the Musketeers? No, he would have spent a few months in prison but not necessarily the execution. But the king played… ”
"Are you coming‘ Mis? "
" Yes, I'm coming. It's just my head that hurts, "he lied.
Porthos looked at him with concern and suspicion in his eyes but he stopped staring at Aramis when horses entered the garrison and their two other comrades joined them.
They all ate together and Aramis had to be careful not to appear suspicious. It was difficult when his three brothers could dismantle his secrets and lies in seconds.
"So what did I miss?" He asked with false joviality to distract his brothers.
“We searched all over town for your assailant,” D’Artagnan informed, “Treville has been on edge for a few days, and we have no new information on our old investigation… oh! And the king made a new whim. "
Aramis once again feigned ignorance. "Only one? "
The others laughed at his remark and even Athos' lips lifted slightly.
“He loved the poet's poems so much that he couldn't stand to see him in jail or dead so he said the poet would spend a week in jail to put his mind to it. All this for poems. "
"His poems weren't that bad," Aramis replied.
Athos studied him with cold, calculating eyes. Fear rose in Aramis because he thought he had betrayed his old life by being too protective of the poet. "Only you can like this kind of poem," Athos finally declared.
"It's because of my sensitive nature," he replied.
Porthos scoffed, "This is a new tactic to lure women into your bed. "
“The two are not unrelated. "
Being Aramis with his brothers was not that complicated after all. He just had to stop thinking about Camelot or how Lancelot would have reacted and be the same person he had always been around his fellow Musketeers.
Except that he can't ignore Camelot for long. If Merlin had taken the risk of waking him up, he must have a good reason. Aramis had only one lead on the dangers looming over Camelot: the poet.
Aramis waited patiently for the end of the day and he had plenty of time to think about what to do when he used the excuse for his headache to think in his room. His brothers had no this luxury and had to go patrolling the city. Which in itself was a good thing because it meant none of them would bother him all afternoon.
It was when the sun had given way to half-light that Aramis decided to act. His first step was to get the poet released and then improvise.
He slowly left his room and paid attention to the creaking steps so as not to wake anyone. Aramis was almost done sealing his horse when he heard footsteps coming from behind him. The musketeer put his hand on his rapier, ready to attack, but relaxed when he saw that it was only D’Artagnan.
"Aramis? Where are you going? "
“Joining a woman. "
" Now? And your headache, is it getting better? "
"I'm fine, D’Artagnan. Relax. I'm going now because I promised her to be there three nights before. "
D’Artagnan seemed to be convinced by the lie - this situation had happened in the past - but one detail seemed to bother the young man. "Are you going with your rapier and several muskets?"
Aramis smiled and put his arm around the Gascon's shoulders. "Forget all the rules and lessons Athos gave you and remember this rule, the most important of all: never go see a woman you angered without a weapon. "
"Especially if she has a husband," D’Artagnan teased.
"That’s what makes it even tastier," Aramis replied as he climbed onto his horse.
“Try to come back in one piece. "
“I cannot guarantee this promise. "
Leaving the garrison was the easy thing, now came the hardest part: re-enter the prison and convince the jailer that the poet had just been released without being charged with high treason in the process.
The prison corridors were familiar to him now and the jailers were still so gracious.
"The poet must be freed," Aramis told the jailer with as much conviction as possible.
"He still has four days to go," the jailer replied, "so he will wisely stay here and you the musketeer will mind your own business."
“But that's none of my business. They are those of the king. His highness longs for the voice of the poet so he sent me to get him. But you are only doing your job so I will personally tell the King of France that his request cannot be granted." Aramis huffed before turning from the prison guard. “I hope His Majesty will show mercy tonight. "
The Musketeer began to leave. He hoped his lie would work. Usually, it would have taken a letter with the king's seal for this request to be fulfilled, but Aramis did not have time to wait four days or ask the king to release the poet on the spot.
“Wait! If you promise that you are acting at the king's request then I will let you take him. Said the jailer. "It will always be better than having to hear him talking," he whispered.
Aramis followed the other man through the prison corridors. His old self, Lancelot, could never have pulled off this feat being unable to lie but he had to do it, he remembered, for Camelot.
They finally arrived in front of the dark cell. The musketeer could see the poet's face thanks to the jailer's torch. The face was familiar to him: long black hair, blue eyes, white skin, and a smirk plastered on his lips.
"We really should stop meeting in this kind of situation," said the familiar voice behind bars.
"Or you"ll have to stop your bad habits, Gwaine."
“It’s not likely to happen anytime soon." The man laughed. "Thank you very much, good sir, I was getting bored in this cell. "
The jailer didn't seem amused by Gwaine's remark and motioned for them to start walking.
It wasn't until after he got out of the prison and after Gwaine had made the guards angry, that Aramis could take a better look at his friend. Gwaine appeared to be the same with less beard and muscle, he also looked shorter than usual.
The two men hugged each other in a rare burst of affection.
"I never expected to see you again," he whispered through the other knight's hair.
“You don't get rid of me that easily. "
They let go of each other and Aramis motioned for Gwaine to follow him. The Musketeer had another room outside the garrison which he hardly ever used but which would be useful for quiet talking.
“You haven't changed much,” Gwaine said distractedly with a laugh, “You went from a knight who had sworn to protect Camelot to a Musketeer at the king's service. "
"And you have become a poet who travels the whole country on foot, going from tavern to tavern, doesn't that remind you of anything? "
The shorter man looked at him in horror: "So you have indeed changed! In addition to the mustache and the goatee. "
" You do not like? "
“I do but I just didn't think Sir Lancelot could have facial hair or look so scruffy. "
“Everything is changing, my friend. Even you. Combing your hair in a ponytail and wearing silk clothes is hardly like you. "
"I can't wait to get rid of his horrible clothes, believe it or not, but it's not that comfortable. "
His room outside the garrison was about ten minutes from the prison so the two men could quietly discuss their two new lives. Aramis was happy to hear that his friend's life was good, although the reincarnation of Gwaine, the poet, was not an avid fight lover.
Aramis tied up his horse then motioned for Gwaine to follow him into the small and dusty bedroom.
"Did Merlin say something to you?" Gwaine asked him as he changed into clothes Aramis had just given him.
" Nothing. Other than waking up and that Camelot was in danger. And you?" The musketeer was himself changing of clothes so that he would not be recognized as the king's man during their quest.
"He just told me to go to Paris and that I will understand why once there. Do you have something to drink? "
Aramis shook his head before uncorking a bottle of wine and pouring it into two glasses.
"And was it before or after you decided to go to the king's court? Or in the nearest tavern? "
“The king had invited me before. I was just hesitant to go when Merlin gave me a real reason to go. "
"You hesitate to go to the court of the King of France?" Aramis laughed.
Gwaine shrugged his shoulders: “The Duchess was a good companion. Nonetheless, I understood what Merlin meant when I saw you at the king's reception when I recited my poems. Although you and your friends seemed to be counting the flies in the room. "
"Porthos does not like poetry, Athos found you vulgar and D’Artagnan did not understand your innuendo. "
"You seem like you've found yourself new brothers, Lance," Gwaine replied proudly.
Aramis smiled but didn't answer.
“And as for the nearest tavern, it was a calculated choice. Merchants in the king’s court spoke of an ancient castle that has disappeared from legends. "
“They were talking about Camelot. "
“Yes, they even had a card which could had lead them to the castle. "
“The merchants were suspects in a theft case, we were going to corner them when we saw you burn what we thought was evidence. They escaped and the musketeers lost their track. We won't be able to found them. "
"Not necessarily," Gwaine replied with a smirk on his lips.
"Do you know where they are?"
“Approximately. They were talking about meeting in Amiens, in an old castle. Apparently, they have other clues to get to Camelot. "
"But thanks to you, they're missing the most obvious clue. With luck, we can find them in Amiens. "
“But they could be anywhere. "
“Even though she’s thin, this’s our only chance, Gwaine. "
"Just you and me in an unknown direction where we might have to fight a dozen mercenaries? They won't stand a chance. "
The two men toasted at this.
Aramis ordered Gwaine to wait here for him as he went to get another horse and provisions for several days. Luckily he knew where to go for the rushed starts. The musketeer made a quick detour to the garrison to leave a note saying he was to be away for the next few days. Aramis was going to have a hell of a sermon when he returned, but Lancelot could not care. He was a Camelot Knight after all.
When he returned to his room, Aramis sensed that something was wrong. He was even sure because three horses were now keeping company to his horse. The Musketeer swore under his breath but resigned himself to having to face the consequence of his actions much sooner than expected.
As he expected, Athos, Porthos and D’Artagnan were waiting for him in his room. Aramis sighed when he saw Porthos holding Gwaine to his chest to prevent the smaller man from running away. Aramis got stuck in the doorway with bags of supplies in his hand.
"Are you going to tell us what's going on here, Aramis?" Asked Porthos.
"To be honest you weren't supposed to see this," he tried to explain.
"Of all the things that you could have done, Aramis, of all the stupid ideas you ever had. This one surpasses them all, ”Athos told him. "Do you actually released a prisoner from the Royal Prison? And thought that no one would realize the trick? "
" No… "
"It was just a misunderstanding, I'm totally innocent," Gwaine replied, trying - and failing - to appear innocent.
Porthos tightened his grip on the poet's neck: "We are not talking to you. "
“I thought about what happened in the tavern. Gwaine is the only one who knows where the merchants might have gone, so I let him go, hoping he would guide me to them. And if I had him secretly freed, it was so that the merchants would not hear about it. "
"So it was a calculated risk? »Asked D’Artagnan. "But why didn't you tell us? "
"Because… Gwaine is a long-time friend."
“You could even say we've known each other for centuries. "
"Do you at least know where the merchants are?"
“Obviously, Athos. They are hiding somewhere in Amiens. In an old castle. "
The old musketeer rolled his eyes and considered what to do next. " Let's go then. "
"What? You want to come? "
“You seem surprised, Aramis. Like we're gonna let you go on your own." D’Artagnan touched him on the shoulder before leaving the room. "We're finally going to have some action. "
Athos rolled his eyes at the behavior of the young Gascon. “Porthos, let the poet go. He's coming with us. "
"But he insulted me of being oafish! "
The greatest Musketeer ended up obeying the look Athos gave him.
"We're leaving at dawn. "
The two former knights were left alone in the room.
"They are not very friendly your friends," Gwaine said, holding his throat.
"You didn't make a big impression, that's all. "
Gwaine helped him put the provisions away.
“They can't know about Camelot. "
" I know… "
The collaboration between the three musketeers and the former knight was as strained as Aramis expected, who played the role of matchmaker. Gwaine was on good terms with D’Artagnan, the young man seemed to like the poet's stories. However, Athos and Porthos both remained on their guard. Porthos seemed ready to kill the poet at any moment. And Athos must have had a headache from rolling his eyes every two seconds. Aramis was sure he heard the old man whisper: "they are two of them now."
Lancelot used to find Gwaine's remarks amusing but exhausting, although he did respond to them from time to time. But Aramis was as much a free talker as the poet, which was becoming quite problematic for those around them.
They did not rest much during their journey. They were all excellent riders so the pace was quick. The other Musketeers even seemed surprised to see Gwaine being so comfortable on horseback, especially when the poet didn't once complain about the horse's lack of comfort. They stop for the night when Athos decided it was time to eat and let the horses rest.
Aramis left D’Artagnan with Gwaine while he went to fill their skins with water, Porthos took care of the horses and Athos gathered wood.
"Do you trust him? "
The musketeer jumped and turned to see Athos behind him.
“I trust him with my life. "
Aramis was about to leave but Athos grabbed his arm. The older man didn't sound angry, just concerned for his friend's well-being.
"As you trusted Marsac?"
"Gwaine has nothing to do with Marsac," Aramis hissed. "Like you, I made the mistake of believing he was just an arrogant, carefree man who believed in nothing but alcohol, women, and a good fight in the taverns. I underestimated and misjudged him because he didn't share the same point of view as me. This was all until I saw him in action. Believe me, Gwaine is an excellent swordsman and rider, he will run into danger even if the odds of survival are slim and he would rather stick himself with his sword than leave a friend behind." Aramis looked straight into Athos’s eyes before saying, “I trust you as much as I trust him. Now it's up to you to prove me that you trust me by trusting Gwaine. "
“This trip promises to be interesting if he has the same sense of self-preservation as you do. "
"He couldn't be worse than me," Aramis teased.
Athos nodded, smiling before waving him back to camp. Aramis knew that the Musketeer still had reservations towards Gwaine but at least Athos could relax a little more in the presence of the poet.
The end of the evening was calm although the discussions were going well. They ate while talking until D’Artagnan finally fell asleep against the seal of his horse.
They divided the rounds to watch the camp and Aramis took the first shift knowing he wouldn't be able to sleep yet. Then it will be the turn of D’Artagnan, that of Porthos, and, finally, that of Athos. Gwaine tried to argue for a night shift but the two Musketeers implicitly told him that his help was not welcome.
It must have been a good hour since his shift started and Aramis had found himself lost in his thoughts several times. It was confusing to have the memories of two lives in one brain. He vividly remembers his childhood as Lancelot but also his childhood as Aramis, he felt the same for his Musketeer brothers as the Knights, his love for Gwen and Anne. Everything was so different but similar. And to be honest, he didn't know if he was Lancelot playing Aramis or the other way around. Was he only Lancelot or was Aramis another him?
Aramis forced himself to stop thinking about it when he felt the headache come on. The Musketeer listened to the forest to investigate for a potential enemy and when he heard nothing strange, he turned his attention to his brothers. D'Artagnan was still sleeping with his head resting against its seal, Porthos was snoring and Athos had his hat on his head but Aramis knew he was sleeping. Then he looked in the direction of Gwaine who had one hand resting on his stomach and the other behind his head.
He really meant it when he said he had never thought of seeing his friend Chevalier again. First, when he was about to die, Lancelot had said goodbye to his friends in his head. Of course, they had seen each other again in the afterlife. Gwaine had apologized and kept saying he had failed until Arthur - also dead - told him he had nothing to apologize for. As they had all prepared to live together in this other world - Perceval and Leon had eventually joined them - a bright white light blinded them and, the next time he knew, Lancelot had given way to Aramis.
Aramis took an apple out of his satchel and threw it in Gwaine's direction. He was hardly surprised when the poet grabbed the fruit before it touched his face. Gwaine rose from his false sleeping position and came over to join him on the tree trunk.
"You would have been very sorry if I was actually sleeping," Gwaine said, biting into the apple.
"You are never so still even in your sleep. "
Gwaine ate the apple as Aramis watched the fire.
"Don't worry, you'll figure it out. "
"Hm? "
“To have two lives. It's… strange at first not to know who you really are. But you will get used to it. "
"How can you be sure? Or be so serene? You look barely affected by it all and you talk and act so much like Gwaine, like the poet's life doesn't matter. "
“Because you are Sir Lancelot. You always find a solution and Aramis seems to be very resourceful too. And it's easier because I have more experience than you, that's all. Besides, Achille Emery is not as much of a gentleman as he likes to think. But since hitting myself might be problematic, I prefer to go back to my good old self. "
“Much to everyone's misfortune,” Aramis laughed. "But you mean this isn't your first time? "
"Hale‘ Riot ’Rackham, Captain of the Night Sun at your service"
"Captain? Were you a privateer? "
"Please don't insult me: I was a pirate. And believe it or not, I even met Blackbeard." Aramis hesitated to believe his friend or not on this point, but he had no trouble imagining him as a pirate. "Besides, it was Leon the privateer. "
Aramis found it hard to contain his laughter.
"You should have seen him in a white wig and uniform. He was hilarious even before I remembered him. "
"And did Merlin wake you up too?"
“Yes, some pirates were threatening Camelot so Merlin forced us to intervene. Percy was with us by the way, he was an innkeeper until Merlin woke him up. We managed to save Camelot but… Percy and Leon died fulfilling their promise. "
“It must have been tough. "
"It was like losing them a second time, except this time there's no one to share your pain. "
Aramis watched Gwaine lost in thought as if seeing the deaths of Perceval and Leon again.
"So we live another life without knowing it until Camelot is threatened and Merlin wakes us up. With luck, we run into an old mate until we die and it all starts all over again. "
“You summed it up pretty well. Imagine all the lives we've lived before this one and how many times we've crossed paths without knowing it. "
"I'm not sure these repetitive lives match Aramis’s beliefs," the musketeer confessed, looking at the chain around his neck.
“No, but it fits in with Sir Lancelot's faith in Merlin. "
"Besides, why isn't he with us? Shouldn't he help us? "
"You know Merlin, he must be watching over the princess to prevent him from getting hurt on his own. "
“You are probably right. I hope that one day we will all be reunited without Camelot being threatened. "
“I see us after many centuries drinking beers with a quiet life. Where there will be no more war or inequality. "
"You would be happy in any situation as long as there is beer, women, or apples. "
“And Rum! "
The two men continued to watch over the camp for two more hours. With the Musketeers asleep, the two knights could finally talk quietly about their old life in Camelot and Aramis adored Gwaine's new stories about Captain Rackham and his crew.
The four Musketeers and the poet had set off again early in the morning. Thanks to Gwaine's energy and endless flow of words, Athos and Porthos never suspected for a single moment that the poet had helped Aramis watch over the camp.
The day passed as it had been the day before, the five men stopped at noon to have a break and eat, and they left an hour later. Porthos was as suspicious of the poet as ever, but Aramis did his duty to make his horse walk alongside that of his taller friend and to talk with him. The Musketeer was even surprised to hear Athos having a light conversation with Gwaine, the two seemed to have found a topic of conversation eventually.
In fact, they had almost reached Amiens when they were attacked by thugs who ambushed them an hour from the entrance to the city. The musketeers and the poet were outnumbered but Aramis did not doubt their luck. Especially when he realized that his muscles were starting to remember his knight training as Lancelot. His sword handling improved significantly and Aramis was sure he could match Athos from now on.
The musketeer looked quickly at Gwaine to see that he too had regained his former level as a fighter Aramis had doubted that his friend could still fight given the poor physical condition of the poet. But he was serene about Gwiane's chance of survival when he heard him taunt his opponents and knock two men down when he did not have a sword - Orthos had refused to give him one.
Aramis rolled his eyes before refocusing on his own enemies. He managed to beat three men with his sword before having to draw his musket to take down a thug who had slipped behind Athos. Once that was done, he went to help Porthos who was fighting with four men at the same time.
"They weren't that bad," Porthos scoffed.
“A real health ballad. "
“Aramis!" Yelled Athos.
The two Musketeers turned and saw why Athos called him: D’Artagnan was on the ground. The group medic crouched down in front of his friend and checked the head of their youngest member who had a lump in the back of his head. Fortunately, his hand was not bloody.
"He's got a lump in the back of his head, the thugs must have knocked him out. "
"Or it was your very dear friend the poet. "
"Gwaine would never have done that," Aramis looked around but Gwaine wasn't there, "where is he? "
"He must have left our company and took D’Artagnan's sword with him. Your friend laughed at us. "
Aramis didn't want to fight Porthos over this now, not while D’Artagnan was unconscious in the middle of a road, and Gwaine was gone.
“Emery hasn't run away,” Athos informed them, “from what I saw, your friend saved D’Artagnan's life before running into the forest. "
"Or he fled leaving us alone in this forest." Porthos could be stubborn when he didn't like a person.
“Or he ran after a scout who was going to warn his companions." Gwaine came out of the woods and leaned against a tree, the former Knight looking glad he surprised them. "Don't worry, I took care of him." Gwaine pointed to the new sword that was strapped to his hip as he held D'Artagnan's in his hand. "Is your friend okay?"
“He should wake up in a few hours. Did you steal this sword from a dead man? "
"That's a good thing and no, I took it when he was still alive. "
The Musketeers looked at the poet and decided to ignore this information.
"Why would thugs attack us so close to town? Especially that we were armed, ”Porthos asked.
“They didn't want our gold,” Athos replied.
"Maybe they were just suicidal," Aramis replied.
"These are the men we are looking for, the scout was running towards an ancient castle tower. They must have been afraid when they saw us arrive. "
Athos nodded and seemed to think of a plan: "Aramis and Porthos you take D’Artagnan and walked south for thirty minutes. Gwaine and I will take the horses, we will continue on the main road for about twenty minutes before entering the forest and continuing north. We'll meet you in an hour or two. "
None of the men discussed the orders - although Porthos didn't like Athos to be alone with Gwaine - and they all sprang into action.
Aramis and Porthos were careful not to leave a trace as they walked through the forest and they stopped after walking for thirty minutes. Porthos prepared food while he could still make a fire and Aramis treated D’Artagnan's wound.
As promised, Athos and Gwaine returned an hour and a half later. The two men had arrived on foot as they had preferred to leave the horses about ten minutes from here - they were securely tied up and had had food and drink - to avoid leading the thugs here. Aramis forced Athos to sit under the laughter of Porthos and Gwaine as their leader had a slight limp.
"Why did you have to go for a walk in the forest when your ankle is sprained?" »Accused Aramis.
"First my ankle is fine, and second D’Artagnan needed you. "
“Porthos could very well done it at your place. And don't tell me he had to carry D’Artagnan because I would have been perfectly capable of it on my own. "
"Of course you're right: I should have sent Porthos and Emery to distract the thugs. So instead of having two men slightly injured, we would have had two idiots trying to kill each other on our hands. "
Aramis did not answer knowing that Athos was right. Porthos was waiting for any excuse to fight Gwaine and the knight will never back down in the face of a fight.
Especially with someone who is twice his height and weight.
"What about you, do you have any injury that you're trying to hide from me?" He asked Gwaine.
“No, I'm perfectly fine. "
This lie could have worked if Aramis was not used to these brothers not hiding their injury from him - he was doing the same thing, but that didn't matter because he was the doctor and not them - and he had a long experience in uncovering Gwaine's hidden wounds. The young man could lie to Gaius about his injuries, but he could never lie to Lancelot.
"That's fine," Aramis replied as he slapped Gwaine's left arm in a friendly gesture. As expected, the poet winced. Aramis looked at the former knight's left arm where his shirt was torn. " You were saying ? "
"It's just a scratch, it doesn't even hurt. "
“The last time you got just one 'scratch' you collapsed a day later because the wound was infected. "
"Did you really have to bring this story back?" The outraged look disappeared from Gwaine's face as Aramis started pulling him to sit next to Athos. “I can heal myself. "
“You won't escape it,” Athos informed him, “when Aramis is in his medic mode, the only thing you can do is let him be. "
"You cannot prevent the inevitable," added D’Artagnan, who had just woken up.
Gwaine eventually sat down but the former knight pouted because he didn't like to be treated like a child. The wound was effectively just a scratch so Aramis just had to bandage it.
The former knight looked at his bandaged arm before saying, "If you keep going like this, Gaius is going to have some serious competition."
Aramis laughed and got ready to answer but was cut off by Porthos.
"And here they go again! You can't stop talking about people we don't know or a place we could know. So, stop taking us for fools and tell us what's really going on
here! "
"What are you talking about, Porthos?" Asked Aramis. "If you have a few things to say just say it frankly."
"I'm saying you're lying and haven't known each other for years." Pothos didn't give them time to understand the accusation before continuing: "You never told us about your great friend the poet but he mysteriously appears out of nowhere and takes a major place in our mission on the merchants. "
"We met years ago, long before I was a Musketeer ..."
Athos cut him off before he could explain, "Didn't you say your grandmother wanted you to become a priest?"
" It is true… "
"So you couldn't have known him when you were a kid. Emery is not enough of a saint to have had a career as a priest. And you certainly didn't meet him when you were a musketeer." Porthos’s logic was relentless and the taller man was not done. "Not to mention, you call him Gwaine all the time when his name is Achille Emery. And that he calls you Lancelot or Lance when your name is Aramis or René d´Herblay. Or do you have another hidden life that you forgot to tell us? "
Aramis was speechless for several seconds. He couldn't tell them about Lancelot or Camelot. Not because he couldn't trust his brothers, Aramis knew the other Musketeers could keep it a secret. But he had taken an oath to King Arthur to protect Camelot. The Aramis part was just waiting to tell them but the Lancelot part of him was fighting not to tell anything.
“My name is Sir Gwaine and your friend is Sir Lancelot, we are two of the best knights of King Arthur of Camelot's round table. It is to protect the kingdom we died centuries ago and it is to honor our oath that we are here today, to prevent the merchants from finding the castle. Aramis and Achille are like our second life. Don't feel bad, Lance never lied to you about who he is because he himself didn't know until Merlin, Arthur's servant, and a great friend, woke him up." Gwaine seemed proud of himself for having said all of this in less than a minute.
"I think I'm going to go back to sleep," DArtganan whispered, seeming to hesitate whether what he had just heard was real or not.
Aramis looked at the heads of his two other brothers. Porthos looked angry and Athos hesitated between smiling or being confused.
"Stop making fun of us! We are serious, ”declared Porthos.
" But I am… "
“You don't have to lie, Gwaine. It's time for them to find out the truth." All eyes were on him, he already hated what he was going to say but he had to do it, for Camelot. “I lied. I never studied to be a priest."
All of these friends were confused except Gwaine who was curious. Aramis sat on the ground and waited for Porthos to do the same.
“Gwaine and I met at a brothel. In the one where my mother worked to be precise. Her father, my grandfather, had not approved of her getting pregnant and had disowned her, the problem is that my father had left without a trace so that was the only job she had found… it was hard to make friends there but Gwaine never cared about titles or social rank so we quickly became friends, nicknames came along the way. My grandmother would take me with her to mass every Sunday, thinking it would save my soul. Then my mother died and my grandparents were too old to take care of me, so they sent a letter to my father who came to pick me up. This is where our paths split up with Gwaine. My dad taught me how to use a sword while Gwaine learned the power of words if you can call it that. When my father believed me ready, he sent me to Treville and you know the rest. "
Aramis was too petrified to look at the faces of his four friends so he got up and went to see the horses.
At camp, D’Artagnan, Porthos, and Athos were still shocked and dumbfounded while Gwaine looked proud. Not only because Lancelot had just protected Camelot again, but because he had confided something so important to his friends.
"Why… why didn't he tell us? »Asked Porthos, who was half guilty and half sad.
"Maybe he didn't trust us enough to tell us," D’Artagnan whispered.
Gwaine looked in the direction of Athos who was silent.
“I don't understand why you are reacting like this. "
"It's easy for you, you already knew that. While we... "
"But what is it that bothers you the most about all of this? That Aramis grew up in a brothel?"
“Aramis lied to us! He's not who we thought he was! "
Gwaine stood up to call the attention of the Musketeers to him: "Nothing has changed. He's still your brother, he's still a musketeer and it doesn't matter whether he was brought up in a church or in a brothel. I don't know Lancelot as well as you do but I know he wouldn't lie about something so big to hurt you or because he didn't trust you. It was in him that he did not trust, it is himself who sees himself as inferior or less deserving because of his origins. "
“You are a good friend, Gwaine. » Finally said Athos. “Maybe better than us on this one. "
“I just know what it feels like to have to hide your origins from your friends. "
D’Artagnan leaned back against the ground: "So what do we do now? "
“Aramis never judged us on our origins so let's do the same,” Athos replied.
“It's crazy,” Porthos laughed, “our brother grew up in a brothel. "
"That's it or Aramis is a Camelot's Knight," D’Artagnan replied with a laugh.
“At least that explains his behavior a bit,” Athos said with a smile on their lips.
When Aramis returns about thirty minutes later, none of his brothers mentioned his past and they did not treat him differently. Instead, Porthos teased him for leaving the camp in Louis's drama style.
The only thing that had changed at camp was the general atmosphere which was much lighter and more friendly, and apparently Gwaine had managed to gain Porthos' respect. And the two soon became great friends, to the detriment of Athos and D’Artagnan and to the amusement of Aramis who knew that his two friends were meant to get along.
But even Aramis was afraid when Porthos proposed to Gwaine to join the Musketeers.
They spent the night sleeping next to each other as they couldn't light a fire so as not to give their position to the merchants and their allies.
Dawn came early and they had no trouble waking up as the time for action had finally come. At first, they approached the castle tower and spent two hours monitoring the activities of the merchants and spotting the number of people in the castle. Then they split into two groups: Aramis, Athos and D’Artagnan on one side, and Porthos and Gwaine on the other. The first part of Athos’s plan was to kill as many enemies as possible as quietly as possible, and only then run into the tower.
Aramis, Athos and D’Artagnan managed to infiltrate the tower undetected. They went down the stairs to find a landing, they hid there and saw that downstairs was a
room with about fifteen men. No matter what the merchants found on Camelot, they had employed many men to protect it. On the landing opposite, Aramis saw a movement. Porthos and Gwaine had also managed to infiltrate the tower.
Athos motioned to them with his fingers that they would attack after five seconds.
The four of them walked down the stairs at the same time and that's where the chaos started. It was a real melee and Aramis, still up the stairs as a sniper, struggled to distinguish his friends from his enemies. The musketeer killed three men with his muskets, and two others who tried to reach him before joining his friends in the room.
There were dead men on the ground, others continued to fight, the sound of iron against iron was heard in the room and blood was spurting everywhere. But barely six minutes after the start of the fight, it was over.
Aramis looked towards his friends who were all standing and all appeared to be in good physical condition: Athos was still limping, D’Artagnan had blood on his face - not his - Porthos and Gwaine did not look hurt. In fact, his old knight friend was looking at some papers on the wooden table.
“Lancelot, come and see. "
The musketeer did as instructed and approached the wooden table. He easily recognized what Gwaine was showing him. Lancelot had walked the streets of Camelot enough for Aramis to instantly recognize the plans for the castle and the lower town.
"That's not all," Gwaine informed him, "Arthur really had illegible handwriting," at the same time, the poet showed him letters signed with the seal of the King of Camelot.
He took the letters from Gwaine to quickly read what was written.
"Confidential letters of peace treaties with the Queen of Caerleon… letters of goods… They must have taken years to find it all."
“We have to burn everything down,” Gwaine said with conviction and sadness at the same time.
Lancelot nodded. His three other friends looked at them with confusion but had not taken part in the exchange, he will have to improvise again so as not to reveal the truth to his brothers Musketeers.
"Let's get out of here," Athos told them.
Everyone nodded because the room was not the most welcoming.
Aramis walked back, already thinking what to say as he read the letters they had just found. He was so focused that he did not hear that one of the men got up behind him or the sound of a cocked musket.
The sound of the bullet coming out of the cannon echoed throughout the room like an ominous omen.
“Lancelot! "
“Aramis! "
Suddenly he was pinned to the ground with another body above his. His body ached and he could feel blood wet his clothes but a small voice told him it wasn't his blood. Aramis moved the body above him and he easily recognized Gwaine's hair. The musketeer was now seated and he was holding the body of the poet against his. His right hand was resting firmly on the wound in the middle of Gwaine's stomach where the blood was flowing freely.
"Aramis? You're hurt? Aramis! "
The Musketeer shook himself out of his shock where his gaze was focus on the blood that stained Gwaine's shirt and his own in red.
He ignored Porthos's question to focus on the former knight: "… Gwaine?"
"He still has a pulse but it's slow," Athos informed him.
"… Sun…" Gwaine whispered.
"What? "
"I-if I die ... it won't be ... in a room ... that st-stinks... with other corpses ..."
“You are not going to die!" Aramis obeyed anyway and carried Gwaine up the stairs until they were outside. To at least give him the freedom of mind to die where he wanted "Go get my horse!" Yelled Aramis to the musketeers who were petrified next to him. “I can save him! "
"Y-you can't..."
“I can save you! "
Aramis continued to keep the pressure on Gwaine's injury. Tears flowed freely down her cheeks.
"N-no… It's okay… it's not so scary the t-third time around," the Knight tried to laugh but his laugh was cut off as blood flowed out of his mouth. "This is the ... m-most epic d-death I ever had ..."
“Stop saying nonsense. You can't leave me when I've just got you back, ”Aramis tried to rationalize. "You shouldn't have taken that bullet. "
"So… it would be you who will be losing his blood… and I don't… want to lose you… again." Gwaine raised his arm to touch Aramis’s face. "It's my turn to be the hero ..." he said in a weak, pained voice, "Emery ... had no one ... but you have brothers ... you have to live for them ... let me go ..."
"I can't…" Aramis whispered as a lump formed in his throat.
"It's o-okay... w-we'll meet again ... in an-another life ..."
His hand on the Musketeer's cheek fell and Gwaine's eyes rolled in their sockets.
"… Gwaine?" Gwaine! "
Aramis tried to shake his friend's body to hear him one last time ... but it was too late, Sir Gwaine, Knight of the Round Table, was dead.
Sobs shook his body as he clung to his friend's dead body. The pain was too great, too hard to bear. It was as if a part of him had just left him. Was this how the other knights felt when he died? The five of them had perhaps only lived a year together, but they had become his brothers, part of him, a bond that no one could understand united them. The exact same bond that bound Aramis to his brother Musketeers and he couldn't imagine how he would feel if one of them died.
Hands touched his shoulders in an attempt at comfort and he leaned into the contact. Athos crouched down in front of him and the older musketeer closed the poet's eyes in respect.
“You have to let go, Aramis." Said Athos in a soft voice. "I know it is hard, my friend, and your pain is great, but we must bring Gwaine back to Paris where he will be buried as he deserves. "
“No…” he whispered, “Gwaine wouldn't have liked to be buried. "
"We'll do whatever you want us to do."
It took several seconds for Aramis to calm his tears and even more time to let go of his friend's corpse. He put Gwaine down with as much respect as possible and ended up giving his orders to the other Musketeers.
About fifteen minutes later, Gwaine's lifeless body was lying on a handcrafted wooden pyre. The dead knight had a sword on his chest as in the tradition of knights, and Aramis had tied his own cloak around his friend's neck. All the letters regarding Camelot were around the body for King Arthur's secrets to disappear along with Gwaine. It wasn't a perfect funeral for a knight of the round table, but they had made do with what they found.
“ Here ends the quest of Sir Gwaine, Knight of Camelot. He died as he lived with courage, bravery, loyalty, and altruism. Camelot is lucky to have a knight as dedicated to his cause as he is and I am even luckier to count him as my brother. Wherever you are I hope you are at peace and I have no doubt to see you again. "
At those words, Aramis let go of the torch he was holding and let it fall on the stake. Gwaine's body instantly caught fire.
He started to turn away from the morbid show when he heard one of his brothers whisper, "So it's all true? "
“It always has been. "
Aramis mounted on his horse and waited for the other Musketeers to do the same.
On the way back to Paris, the usually jovial musketeer who always told anecdotes spoke little or said nothing. He was still shaken by what had just happened. It wasn't until several hours later when they were all sitting in front of a fire, that Aramis told them everything from Lancelot to Camelot. It was as if a weight had just dropped from his shoulders knowing he had no secrets from his brothers and talking about Gwaine did him good.
Because in speaking he understood that the pain of the loss of his brother knight will always be there. But he knew the pain would eventually subside with time. Gwaine was right, Aramis had a new family to look after. Besides, he was seren about his chances of seeing Gwaine again.
***
Several centuries later, after having lived heaps of other lives and having seen kings die and be reborn, societies fall and rise again, have fought in several wars, have killed more Nazis than he could count, and helped several revolts. But Aramis was finally awake and free in the 21st century. Along the way, he had fought alongside Arthur, Perceval, Elyan, and Leon but never saw Gwaine again.
In the 21st century, nothing was perfect, injustices were always present, men still killed each other, and epidemics still took their toll, but Lancelot had eventually found his brothers.
The first person he met was Perceval and this time around he didn't need Merlin to wake him up to remember who his friend was. Then it was Gwen and Elyan's turn. Followed by Leon and Arthur. Even Merlin had ended up joining them.
The only one who was still missing was Gwaine. Their group had looked everywhere for a trace of their friend but found nothing, they had even been afraid that they had lost the fearless knight before they had even found him but Merlin kept telling them that Gwaine was fine and that they would meet him again at the right time and in the right place.
The right time and the right place came after a car accident. The group, consisting of Arthur and his knights, had been transported to San Antonio Medical Center despite having only minor injuries. The nurses put Leon, Perceval, and Elyan on three stretchers, and the night nurse told them that Doctor Callahan would come and see them as soon as possible. The group waited over five minutes for the doctor to arrive and Arthur was starting to get impatient and wanted to go talk to the nurse about the "as soon as possible" concept. Lancelot tried to calm him down by telling him that the doctor must be overwhelmed and that their friends had only superficial wounds. But Arthur had very little patience and drew the curtain to speak to the nurse.
Except that a white-skinned, dark-haired, blue-eyed man was already in front of the curtain. Shocked, Arthur pulled back to let the man through the tight space. He was wearing dark blue doctor's clothes, a file in a hand, and a smirk plastered on his lips. Each Knights and Arthur could recognize who really were the Doctor Callahan on the spot.
"What sort of boredom have you gotten yourself into this time, princess? "