Finally getting Aramis alone, Constance rounded on him in fury. "You idiot! What were you thinking!? Anyone could have walked in on you!"
Aramis blinked, then calmly shrugged. "Probably the same thing you were when you were snogging d'Artagnan in the middle of the street in front of your husband's house last year," he said, voice so dry he could have done Athos proud.
Constance growled, her fingers itching to smack his face, but in the next heartbeat the fire had gone. "Yes, well," she murmured, trying to keep her face stern, "d'Artagnan is not the queen."
Aramis's lips twitched. "Good of you to notice. d'Artagnan must appreciate that."
She snorted despite herself, fighting against a sudden smile. This, she thought, was the danger of Aramis. "Never mind what he appreciates," she huffed, working to maintain a level seriousness - then mortified when her voice emerged tainted with more regret than she thought she had to harbor. It pooled like ink in her stomach. "Which I'm not sure is much of anything anymore."
Aramis's eyes darkened somberly and he took a step towards her, fingers out as if to touch her elbow. Turning abruptly, she stepped away, pressing her palms over the abrupt and unwanted emotion rising in her cheeks.
"I know you still love him," Aramis said from behind her, in a timbre soft and kind - so boldly gentle it threatened to break her heart open all over again. Which, she could not - she would not.
One long, deep breath, and quickly under control again, she turned back to face him. "And I thought you had learned to have better sense," she whispered.
Lowering his chin and digging gruffly at his hair, he nodded. "At one time, so did I," he returned, then tried to smile as though to brush it all away, but it was a poor attempt, like a child trying to wear a paper mask after dragging it through the rain.
By pure reflex, she found herself touching his elbow instead. "Then we're both of us fools," she remarked, trying to make her voice light. It didn't work. Her heart stayed heavy and his head stayed bowed.
Eventually, she dropped her hand, and that, more than anything seemed to call his attention back to her.
Lifting his eyes, he met her gaze. "Fools," he agreed, then looked away with a shaky breath. "Fools trying to be sensible." When he looked back, all the steadiness she expected from him was in place, the mask dried and solid once more. The corners of his eyes wrinkled. "And how's that going on your end?"
She wanted to smile, but couldn't. "Painfully," she admitted.
Gently, he squeezed her shoulder, something ghost-like in his expression, then turned as if to leave.
With a serge of fear, she stopped him, just as he reached the door. "Be careful, Aramis. This... you and... Please. Be careful. You must."
Setting his hat on his head, he nodded once, and was gone.
Very Mini Fill Re: S2 Ep 4 Spoilers - Constance and Aramis
Date: 2015-01-31 07:21 am (UTC)Aramis blinked, then calmly shrugged. "Probably the same thing you were when you were snogging d'Artagnan in the middle of the street in front of your husband's house last year," he said, voice so dry he could have done Athos proud.
Constance growled, her fingers itching to smack his face, but in the next heartbeat the fire had gone. "Yes, well," she murmured, trying to keep her face stern, "d'Artagnan is not the queen."
Aramis's lips twitched. "Good of you to notice. d'Artagnan must appreciate that."
She snorted despite herself, fighting against a sudden smile. This, she thought, was the danger of Aramis. "Never mind what he appreciates," she huffed, working to maintain a level seriousness - then mortified when her voice emerged tainted with more regret than she thought she had to harbor. It pooled like ink in her stomach. "Which I'm not sure is much of anything anymore."
Aramis's eyes darkened somberly and he took a step towards her, fingers out as if to touch her elbow. Turning abruptly, she stepped away, pressing her palms over the abrupt and unwanted emotion rising in her cheeks.
"I know you still love him," Aramis said from behind her, in a timbre soft and kind - so boldly gentle it threatened to break her heart open all over again. Which, she could not - she would not.
One long, deep breath, and quickly under control again, she turned back to face him. "And I thought you had learned to have better sense," she whispered.
Lowering his chin and digging gruffly at his hair, he nodded. "At one time, so did I," he returned, then tried to smile as though to brush it all away, but it was a poor attempt, like a child trying to wear a paper mask after dragging it through the rain.
By pure reflex, she found herself touching his elbow instead. "Then we're both of us fools," she remarked, trying to make her voice light. It didn't work. Her heart stayed heavy and his head stayed bowed.
Eventually, she dropped her hand, and that, more than anything seemed to call his attention back to her.
Lifting his eyes, he met her gaze. "Fools," he agreed, then looked away with a shaky breath. "Fools trying to be sensible." When he looked back, all the steadiness she expected from him was in place, the mask dried and solid once more. The corners of his eyes wrinkled. "And how's that going on your end?"
She wanted to smile, but couldn't. "Painfully," she admitted.
Gently, he squeezed her shoulder, something ghost-like in his expression, then turned as if to leave.
With a serge of fear, she stopped him, just as he reached the door. "Be careful, Aramis. This... you and... Please. Be careful. You must."
Setting his hat on his head, he nodded once, and was gone.