The night passed in much the same way as the previous one, with Aramis coughing through the night. It didn't happen as often, thankfully, as it appeared that the steam had indeed done him some good. When Aramis woke the next morning, he found that his headache had lessened and it wasn't quite as difficult to breathe as it had been the day before. His friends brought him another pot of steam, happy to see that his cough wasn't as bad.

Outside, it was still cloudy and dreary, but no longer raining, and Treville went to find out from the King what his decision was.

"You're looking better," Porthos said to Aramis.

Aramis looked up at him as he inhaled the steam. "You're just saying that…to be polite," his voice was scratchy from all the coughing.

Porthos shook his head. "No, really, you were white as a ghost for a while."

Aramis nodded, not surprised.

"You are still pale," said Athos. "Just because you are doing better doesn't mean that you are fine."

Aramis couldn't argue that; he certainly couldn't perform his duty if he couldn't breathe right. He still wheezed, which told everyone what they needed to know without Aramis having to say a word.

Treville came back inside. "The King wishes to leave; he's ordered everyone to pack up the campsite."

Everyone looked at each other. Leaving would make it harder to discover who'd tried to kill Aramis. Having no choice, they packed everything up—not letting Aramis help—and when it finally came time to take down the tent, Porthos brought Aramis outside, a hand on his arm lest he falter.

Aramis started coughing after only a few steps, not surprising anyone.

Athos caught up to them, leaving d'Artagnan to take the tent down with Treville's help. "Can you make it over to the river?" he asked.

Aramis nodded, and they slowly headed over, with Aramis trying to suppress his coughing.

"Where were you standing when you were pushed in?" Athos asked.

Aramis walked a few more steps and stood facing the water. "Right here."

Athos turned and looked to see whose tent was nearby…he wasn't surprised to see Clouseau standing less than twenty feet away while his servant took down his tent.

Porthos spotted him too, and shot a look at Athos that clearly said, 'I'll kill him.'

They both turned to face the water again so Clouseau wouldn't see them staring, and Aramis started coughing once more. They waited until he stopped before Athos opened his mouth to speak…but before he had a chance, Aramis suddenly gave a startled cry as his body pitched towards the river.

Porthos lunged forward and grabbed him, pulling him back before he could fall in. Aramis landed on his rear-end on the bank, his boots splashing into the water.

Athos spun around, but no one was there. He looked in all directions, but spotted nothing suspicious. Baffled, he reached down to grab one of Aramis' arms as Porthos pulled him back up the bank. "Did you trip?" he asked.

Aramis was coughing again. "Pushed!"

Athos and Porthos shared a look. "We didn't see anyone do it," Athos told him.

Aramis kept coughing with one arm around his ribs, which had been painfully jarred when he'd hit the ground. "Someone…pushed…me!" he said in between the coughs.

"Well then, who was it!" Porthos exclaimed.

As if in answer to his question, a large form came up behind Aramis and knocked him to the ground, where he landed on his knees despite Porthos' grip on his arm. The force of the shove knocked Aramis' hat off his head…and King Louis' horse picked it up in his teeth and started to walk away.

All three of the Musketeers stared in shock.

"A…horse…did this?" Porthos stammered.

Athos stalked forward and pulled the hat from the horse's mouth, before turning and walking back to his friends.

The horse followed him.

Porthos had pulled Aramis to his feet, and they stood staring as Athos returned with Aramis' hat. Athos put it on his own head and waited for the horse to catch up to him.

Without hesitation, the horse knocked his nose into Athos' back. Athos stepped to the side just in time, but he let Aramis' hat fall to the ground, and they watched as the horse picked it up again and walked off.

Aramis stared. "I don't know whether to laugh, or die from embarrassment."

Athos again fetched Aramis' hat away from the horse, and they stood there watching as the horse flicked its tail, obviously agitated. "Well, Porthos?" Athos said.

"Well what?" Porthos asked.

"You said that you were going to kill whoever did this to Aramis," Athos said. "Well, here he is."

"I can't kill the king's horse!" Porthos quietly hissed.

Aramis looked around, clutching the jeweled cross that the Queen had given him as he inwardly prayed that no one had seen or heard what was going on. Everyone seemed immersed in breaking down the campsite, and considering the fact that Aramis didn't hear anyone laughing themselves sick, he realized that he was safe...

Until he noticed Clouseau staring right at him.

Startled, Aramis accidentally sucked in a breath and started coughing. Clouseau was absolutely the last person that needed to know the truth.

A moment later, Clouseau walked over, throwing a slightly annoyed look at Athos as he remembered the conversation they'd had the previous day. "Monsieur Aramis," he said. "It is good to see you up and around."

Aramis wondered if he was being sarcastic. "Thank you," he said, trying to hold in more coughing. It didn't work.

"Have you discovered the identity of the miscreant who pushed him into the river?" Clouseau asked Porthos, appearing to ignore Athos completely.

"We have a pretty good idea," Porthos said.

King Louis' horse suddenly reached its head towards Athos and opened its mouth to grab Aramis' hat.

Athos quickly passed it to his other hand behind his back and placed it on Aramis' head. "You dropped your hat," he said.

"Oh, thank you," Aramis replied, going along with him.

"You do?" Clouseau said to Porthos.

"Yeah...uh...we're still workin' on it," Porthos said. "It's probably not a…person…that you know."

Clouseau looked glad to hear that, seeing that he wasn't a suspect after all.

King Louis' horse suddenly started walking around Clouseau, apparently intent on grabbing Aramis' hat from the other side.

Porthos grabbed the hat off Aramis' head right before the horse reached its neck forward, and he started waving it around. "Watch out, there's a bee in your hair!" he exclaimed.

Aramis took a step to the side, hoping that Porthos wasn't serious.

Porthos then held the hat behind his own back. "It flew away," he said.

The horse suddenly gave a loud huff, as if to say, 'Give me that hat!'

Clouseau looked back towards his belongings near the now-collapsed tent. "I must finish. Good day."

The Musketeers all said goodbye, watching as he walked off, before looking at King Louis' horse, who still stood there, flicking its tail.

Porthos pulled Aramis' hat out from behind his back. "Is this what you want?" he asked the horse.

Aramis frowned. "What are you doing?" He reached for his hat.

Porthos moved it away. "Uh uh, you ain't gettin' this hat until we're on the road and away from this horse! He almost killed you, Aramis, because he wants your hat!" He waved it in front of the horse again. "Well you ain't gettin' it, you great oaf!"

The horse reached for it, just as Porthos pulled it away.

"What are you doing to my horse?!"

Everyone froze as King Louis' voice met their ears. Aramis started coughing again.

King Louis walked over with a frown. "What is going on here?" he asked again.

Porthos opened his mouth and closed it again, but it was Athos who spoke. "Your horse is attracted to the feather on this hat."

Aramis had nearly stopped coughing, but it grew worse again at those words.

Louis nodded. "Yes, he does love feathers…don't you, Champion?" he said, petting the horses' nose. "We have to hide them from him…once he sees a feather, he'll stop at nothing to get it."

Aramis was still coughing, shooting Athos a glare as if afraid that he'd given the situation away.

Louis looked at Aramis. "My, you aren't recovering very quickly, are you?"

"No, he's not," said Porthos. He looked at his friend. "Come on, Aramis, you should sit down until we leave."

Athos gave the King a bow and they quickly walked off.

"Why did you say that?" Aramis asked Athos.

"Louis saw Porthos waving your hat at his horse, what else was I supposed to say?" Athos replied.

Aramis shook his head and started coughing again, their fast pace making his lungs work harder than they were currently capable of.

"Don't worry, Aramis," Porthos said. "I doubt the King will figure it out."

They reached the spot where their tent used to be, to find d'Artagnan and Treville just finishing folding it up.

"Find out anything?" Treville asked.

"Only the identity of who pushed Aramis into the river," Porthos said.

At those words, Aramis groaned as he sat on a log.

D'Artagnan dashed over. "Who was it?"

Aramis looked at the ground and shook his head.

"Champion," Athos deadpanned. "The King's horse."

D'Artagnan blinked, before he and Treville glanced at each other. "The King's horse?"

Aramis dropped his face into one hand.

D'Artagnan smiled, thinking they were joking, before realizing from their expressions—Athos and Porthos', anyway, since Aramis was hiding his face—that it was not a joke.

"You're serious?" Treville asked.

Porthos nodded. "He tried to knock him in again and grabbed his hat." He held it up. "He wanted the feather!"

D'Artagnan couldn't believe it. "You're telling us that a horse nearly killed Aramis for his hat?!"

Aramis made a sound behind his hand. "Thank you for making it sound even more ridiculous."

No one knew what to say; Aramis had almost died.

"Well," said d'Artagnan. "At least you figured it out…so you don't have to worry that someone is trying to kill you."

"That's true," said Porthos, even though he'd like to wring the horse's neck. He patted Aramis' shoulder. "See? A happy ending."

Aramis lifted his head and gave him a longsuffering look. He reached up, took his hat from Porthos, and put it on, before coughing again.

The King suddenly walked past them, but Aramis didn't notice, eyes closed as he coughed. He felt the hat suddenly disappear from his head, and looked up. "Porthos…"

But it wasn't Porthos who had taken it; Champion the horse was walking behind the King, with Aramis' hat in its mouth.

Aramis' mouth dropped open. "Porthos!" he said, just as his friend dashed forward and grabbed the hat before quickly sprinting back.

D'Artagnan had a hand over his mouth…that had been one of the funniest things he'd ever seen.

"Now that was a sight that I won't soon forget," Treville commented.

"Please forget," said Aramis. "For my sake." He started coughing again.

King Louis climbed into his carriage and everyone else was mounting their horses. A chilly wind suddenly blew, making them shiver.

"Let's go," said Porthos, reaching down to pull Aramis to his feet and fussing with his cloak as if Aramis was a child. "You need a warm bed with a roaring fire."

"And a featherless hat," said d'Artagnan.

Aramis looked at d'Artagnan as if he'd said a very bad word. "What?"

"A hat with no feather," d'Artagnan told him, as they headed towards their horses.

"No feather in my hat?" Aramis said, coughing again. "I…can't wear…a hat…with no feather!"

Everyone knew that, and shot each other humored looks.

Porthos helped Aramis mount even though he insisted that he didn't need help. The exertion made Aramis cough yet again, and he saw quite a lot of people looking at him. Finally, they started to head back, and he nearly sighed in relief, but caught himself in time, not wanting to keep coughing and draw everyone's attention.

It took hours to get back, and after seeing the King safely to the palace, the musketeers were finally able to go back to the garrison. After a very slow trip up the stairs that didn't agree with Aramis' lungs, they brought him to his room. It was freezing inside, so d'Artagnan quickly got the fire going while Porthos forced Aramis to let him help him out of his uniform.

After Aramis was changed into nightclothes, Porthos draped a blanket around his shoulders.

"Thank you," Aramis said, shivering as he pulled it around himself. He started to head over to the chair in front of the fire, coughing along the way, but Porthos grabbed his arm.

"To bed with you," Porthos said.

Aramis was still coughing and couldn't answer as his friend led him to his bed and made him get in. He lay at an incline to help his breathing, and smiled as Porthos fussed over him, making sure the blanket around his shoulders and chest wasn't letting any chilly air in, and pulling the covers up under his chin.

Athos had mysteriously disappeared, and suddenly returned with a bottle of wine and four cups. He and d'Artagnan watched, amused, as Porthos practically tucked Aramis in.

"Perhaps you should have waited until this was empty," Athos said.

Porthos turned to see Athos holding up a bottle of wine. He shook his head with a smile.

A minute later, they were all sitting around Aramis' bed drinking it. Porthos let Aramis stick just one hand out of the blankets to hold his cup.

Athos waited until Aramis was on his second cup of wine before asking, "How are you feeling?"

Aramis blinked sleepily. The room was quickly warming up, and the alcohol was affecting him faster than usual due to his weakened condition. "Better than I was."

Athos nodded. "Good."

"None of you plan to tell anyone that the horse did it, do you?" Aramis asked, tiredly closing his eyes. His hand holding the cup was resting on his stomach but the cup started to tip, and Porthos reached out and grabbed it before it could spill on him.

Aramis opened his eyes, raising the cup and drinking the rest as if nothing had happened. It was obvious that he was having trouble staying awake, and Porthos took the cup from him when he was finished and placed it on the nightstand before taking Aramis' wrist and pushing his hand back inside the blankets. "Go to sleep."

"Mmm," Aramis said. He closed his eyes again, but started coughing a moment later.

The other three inwardly winced.

Aramis winced too once the fit ended. "One day...I'll look back on this…and laugh," he mumbled.

"And we'll laugh at you. I mean with you," d'Artagnan joked.

Aramis smiled, and his friends' soft laughter was the last thing he heard before he fell asleep…

Aramis dreamed that King Louis' horse stole all twenty of his hats (even though he didn't own that many) and that Louis told the story of Champion knocking him into the river to his guests at the next Royal Ball. The entire palace had erupted in laughter, and Aramis had snuck outside to get away. He'd sat on the palace steps with a sigh, and never heard Champion coming until the hat on his head suddenly disappeared. He looked up to see the horse walking around a corner and out of sight.

"Well, Champion," Aramis called out. "You did it. You got my hat."

The horse neighed in response.

Aramis propped the side of his face onto his fist. "At least this is a dream; so you don't really have my hat."

Another distant neigh sounded, and Aramis couldn't help but laugh, especially since his lungs felt fine in the dream.

Suddenly Champion came back and dropped all of Aramis' hats on the step beside him. "Why, thank you," Aramis said.

Back in Aramis' room, the others were staring at their sleeping friend. Suddenly, Aramis softly chuckled in his sleep, and his friends smiled at each other, glad to see that it didn't wake him up coughing.

"Now that's a sound I like to hear," Porthos whispered.

THE END