Thank you all for your patience and continued support of this story. You will find I have used a few paragraphs of script from the film. I don't usually like doing this but I found myself unable to get around these beautiful passages. All credit goes to the film for the inspiration and words used in the story. I hope you enjoy this next chapter!

Chapitre Six

The ability to sleep had evaded Elise. The hope and promise of seeing her long-lost friend had kept her mind busy throughout the night. Silent prayers and thoughts had pervaded the time spent in the darkness. Now came the break of dawn. The traces of morning light were beginning to show through her window and with it brought further anticipation. She quickly gathered her things and had already nearly readied for the morning. She had chosen a simple but nice dress, something comfortable enough for travel but nothing too extravagant either. She wanted to look her best for the long-awaited meeting with Philippe, but she didn't want to overwhelm with something too fancy either. She stood in front of the mirror now. She ran her hands down the dress in order to smooth out any of the creases then worked on fixing her hair. After some internal debate of what to do with it, she pulled half of it up into a delicate bun but left the rest of it down.

Her heart fluttered with nerves as she made her way quickly down the stairs. Most of the servants were up and about already but she knew the Chevaliers were still in bed. The sun had just begun to rise. She had written a note a short while ago for them explaining she would be gone for a time visiting an old friend. She left it vague by Aramis' instructions but made sure they knew she would be alright and would return when time allowed. She slipped the letter under their door then quickly made her way outside the front door.

It was still a little dark outside, the sun had not yet halfway risen. She waited now with nervous anticipation, her eyes scanning the road ahead to see if there was any sign of a carriage. Minutes passed and there was no sound of anything approaching. She gripped her bag in trembling hands, worried something had gone awry. What if he didn't come? She took in a slow breath, her eyes still scanning past the long gravel driveway, looking for any sign.

More minutes passed; the birds had begun their singing as the sun was now nearly fully risen. She paced anxiously, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. Hope was beginning to flee, but then there was the sound of horses approaching. She paused. Her eyes looking down the long driveway again. The sound was getting closer. She inhaled and craned to look. Finally, there was the shadow of a horse drawn carriage. She bit her lip, hoping this was it. The carriage did not slow however and continued past the driveway. She swallowed a lump down her throat. Her hope beginning to falter. But then came another carriage shortly behind. It slowed and turned in the driveway. Her heart lit up immediately. Without thinking, she rushed up to it. The driver of the carriage stopped it short. She did not recognize the driver and so she felt her heart fall again, but then the carriage door opened. And out stepped a man she recognized.

"Jacques!" she rushed up to him and hugged him. Quickly pulling back she flushed, "I'm sorry…I…was so worried you weren't going to come."

He smiled kindly, "it's alright." He looked her over. "Do you have everything you need?"

She nodded, "Oui, please let's hurry! I am anxious to get there!"

He nodded in turn, "I understand mademoiselle." He escorted her into the carriage and closed the door behind them. Sitting across from her, he let the driver know to head out. The carriage turned and was soon on its way moving at a quick and steady pace. Elise set her bag in the seat next to her, her heart racing. She looked out the window, watching as they left the Chevalier's residence.

"Are you nervous?" Jacque's voice pierced through the silence.

She turned her brown eyes toward Jacques and quickly realized she had been fidgeting, she stopped abruptly, folding her hands in her lap, "oui, very much so…" she replied quietly.

Jacques gave a sympathetic look of understanding, "I can imagine you are feeling a lot right now."

She nodded, "I am still not sure how to take this all in. I was so afraid this day would never come." She paused, "How long will it take for us to arrive?"

"A few hours. We will have to change carriages out about halfway there." He looked at her more fully, "did you sleep last night?"

She shook her head, "I tried but I couldn't. I was too anxious."

He smiled, "I can imagine. I am sure Philippe also had a hard time sleeping. I know he has been anxious to see you as well."

Hope lit in her eyes, she paused and looked herself over. "I hope what I'm wearing is alright. I didn't want to overdress but I hope it's enough…"

He leaned forward and gently took one of her hands, "if you're worried about Philippe, I can assure you, he will be excited to see you no matter what you look like."

She smiled softly, "Thank you…I know he never cared back then…it's just been so long...I just wanted to look my best."

He nodded to her with a small smile, then pulled back, releasing her hand. "You should try and get some rest; it will be awhile before we get there."

"If I can, I will try." She nodded in agreement. She settled back against the carriage, closing her eyes. She would try to sleep. If she could, she knew time would fly even faster so she could see him again.

"Athos!" a yell came from somewhere down the hall disturbing his sleep. He had been up most of the night speaking with Philippe, trying to keep him calm and his mind at ease as he waited anxiously for his friend to arrive. He rubbed his eyes and yawned, stumbling to the door. He opened it, then stepped back abruptly, dodging Porthos' fist that was aimed to knock on the door.

Porthos quickly withdrew his fist, "that was close, sorry my friend."

"What is it?" Athos stared at him, slightly annoyed by the wakeup call, but at least he felt more awake.

"Aramis just arrived; just thought you may want to know."

Athos nodded, covering a yawn "Oui, merci."

"You look tired." Porthos frowned, "I apologize, I didn't mean to wake you so rudely. I thought you would have been up by now."

"It's fine Porthos." Athos reassured him. Too weary to change clothes last night, he had just slept in his normal clothes. He moved back inside his room quickly pulling on his boots then followed Porthos out the door. He stepped outside, squinting in the sunlight of the day. He hadn't even realized what time it was; morning had nearly long passed. He looked toward the carriage where Aramis was giving orders to a couple of his men. Approaching quietly, he waited until he was finished.

"I'm sorry I'm so late." Aramis sighed without looking at him, grabbing one of his bags from the carriage.

"What kept you? Did d'Artagnan give you much trouble?" Athos asked suspiciously.

"He was watchful…I had to pretend I was attending to masses for a while…"

"So, the dog finally returned to his master enabling you to leave?" Athos quipped.

Porthos shifted uncomfortably; Aramis looked toward Athos pointedly, stopping abruptly, "That's a bitter thing to say…you were once brothers."

"Yes. Once." Athos glared.

Aramis sighed, deviating from the topic for a moment, "I was able to create a diversion. With a little gunpowder and set points throughout the city, I had my followers light a few barrels to cause a few fires. All in uninhabited areas of course, and mostly just the barrels burning in the streets. This caused him to think the riots were igniting again. Once I knew he was too busy handling the fires, I slipped out unnoticed."

"You were always the smart one." Porthos grinned, slapping Aramis on the back to which Aramis smirked and was about to reply when Athos interrupted.

"And what of the king's summon?"

"Ah, yes." Aramis nodded. "He asked about my mission completion. I told him I took care of the Jesuit leader. Then he wanted to know why we had all seemingly disappeared, particularly you of course. He wanted to know your whereabouts."

"And what did you say?" Athos leveled his eyes on him.

"That I knew nothing of course except that I suspected you had left for reasons of grieving. He seemed satisfied with the answer, though obviously not fully as I then caught d'Artagnan trailing me."

"Well d'Artagnan isn't exactly a fool. It wouldn't surprise me if he was watching just of his own volition. Especially since he knows you plan to replace his king."

Aramis shook his head, handing his bag to one of his followers, "d'Artagnan has his loyalties but he also cares for us Athos, even for you, especially for you." He stepped forward, gently placing his hands on Athos' shoulders.

Athos stepped back, releasing himself from Aramis' touch, his voice rising in anger, "if he cared so much, he wouldn't have let my son die and he wouldn't have betrayed us!"

Aramis dropped his hands, staring at Athos in silence and pity. His eyes averted noticing movement from one of the windows upstairs. He met eyes with Philippe and could tell he had been listening to the conversation from the open window. Athos' eyes followed Aramis'. He turned around in time to find Philippe stepping back from the window into the room again.

Aramis sighed, "I imagine he will have questions about all of this, but the answers will come after we get him cleaned up." He looked toward Athos, "he looks better, you did a good job in taking care of him. Thank you."

Athos glanced over to him, much more subdued now. He nodded to him but said nothing.

Aramis turned toward Porthos, "and of course, I give my thanks to you as well."

Porthos nodded, "You're welcome. So, what happens now?"

"Now, we get Philippe prepared." Aramis turned to a couple of his men who both had bags in hand. "I am going to head up with them for a moment, I will return shortly."

Porthos moved to Athos, carefully placing a hand on his shoulder. "Let's have a drink inside my friend."

Athos at first resisted then slowly nodded, allowing Porthos to bring him inside. Aramis led the way but instead of stopping in the kitchen with the two, he led his men through the dining room then upstairs to Philippe's room. Knocking gently, he slowly pushed the door open and found Philippe sitting in a chair by the fireplace. He stepped inside, "I apologize for the commotion outside…" he paused, "you look better, how do you feel?"

"Better", Philippe managed a small smile, "I must admit I am a little concerned over what I heard…and I am also anxious about meeting Elise. I was hoping I could clean up a little. But I am unsure of how to shave and I heard you didn't want my hair touched?" He looked toward Aramis confused.

Aramis smiled. "This is perfect timing. That's why I brought these men." He stepped forward to allow the two Jesuits in. "They will help you shave and fix your hair for you. As for your questions, and I know you have many, I promise to answer them for you once you are cleaned up."

Philippe nodded in silence, though his mind reeled with questions and confusion. He watched Aramis leave then looked toward the two men. He watched the two move to the table, then at their bidding he moved to sit in the chair next to it. He was a little uneasy but tried his best to remain calm. He watched with curiosity as one of the men opened a bag removing a blade as well as some other items. The blade somewhat unnerved him, but he knew if Aramis trusted them, he should as well. They started with his hair first, combing it through then cutting off a bit toward the bottom, working quietly and precisely. Then at their instruction, he leaned back as they began the process of shaving his neck and face.

At the first touch of the blade, he shivered; the steel against his skin sending him a flashback of the time he had a sword to his throat. But a gentle hand on his shoulder from one of the men helped him to relax again. He decided to close his eyes, perhaps not looking would help. He could feel the first stroke, it brushed against his skin cleanly and he could feel the air touch the bare skin. The process continued for a few minutes and with each passing swipe of the blade, he began to relax a little more knowing they would not harm him.

"Elise, wake up…"

Elise stirred, attempting to become aware of her surroundings. She blinked at Jacques. She no longer felt the sway of the carriage. "Are we there?" She looked out the window.

"We are." He nodded with a smile.

She immediately sat up. Grabbing her bag, she quickly flung the door of the carriage open and stumbled out of it, nearly falling. Jacques followed quickly behind, "Are you alright?"

"Oui." She responded, her eyes frantically looking around at the vast estate. It was not nearly as glorious looking as the palace or even the Chevalier's home, but it was certainly large. The stonework was simple, reminiscent of the house she had found Philippe in, like most other country houses she had come across in her earlier days of wandering. She turned toward Jacques, "where is he?"

"Inside mademoiselle." Another voice came from behind. She turned in the direction and met eyes with Aramis. Though it took a moment to recognize who he was as he was dressed in normal clothes this time. Realizing she was staring, she blinked, "Forgive me, I'm not used to seeing you out of a priest's garb."

He put a hand up, "Yes, well, I have other duties besides being a priest." He gave a small smile then gave Jacques a knowing look.

"Aramis!" A voice came from the upstairs window. The three turned to look up at the Jesuit who was calling out to him. "He's ready!"

"Perfect timing!" Aramis smiled and nodded a thanks, acknowledging the man. He turned toward Elise. "Follow me." He gestured toward the door with his hand. "This way." As he led them through the door and through the large house, he looked back toward them both, "I trust your journey went well?"

Elise nodded in silence, gripping her bag tightly, while her eyes took in all the details of the house. It was certainly much larger than most country houses she had come across, and it was furnished to a suitable level but not so ornate either. She was glad she had chosen to dress more simply.

Aramis took them through the kitchen then led them to the dining room where Athos and Porthos now sat on opposite sides of the table. Stepping aside so Elise and Jacques could enter, he gestured to each of them. "Elise, this is Athos and Porthos."

Elise nodded quietly to them, "A pleasure."

Athos nodded back in turn but Porthos stood and approached her. He took one of her hands and kissed it gently, "Enchanté mademoiselle." He turned to Aramis, "Aramis, you bring me such a beauty, you do me such an honor…"

"Porthos…this is Philippe's friend." Aramis reminded him, shaking his head.

Porthos blinked back to her then laughed. "Ah, apologies my dear. I can see why Philippe blushed over you now." He chuckled, releasing her hand again.

She flushed in turn at the thought. Her heart lifting. Did Philippe still feel the same about her, after all these years, the way she was certain she felt about him? She looked toward Aramis, her eyes questioning. "Where…" she began but barely got the word out before she saw him move.

Aramis led her to other side of the dining room where a door stood. He opened it for her then gestured up the stairs. "He is upstairs, through the first door on the left. Whenever you are ready, please return with Philippe down here. I can take your bag for you for now." He offered.

She nodded, handing the bag to him. "Merci." Her heart quickened with anticipation. She turned her gaze toward the top of the staircase and began to climb the steps. Each step upward she quickened a little more. As she reached upstairs, she reached the hall then looked toward her left. The first door she saw was only a couple of steps away. She took in a breath then stepped toward it. Her hand trembled as she reached for the knob. She hesitated then began to turn it. The door flung open. She stepped back in shock. She blinked at a man she did not recognize. He excused himself and she watched another follow quickly behind him, the one she had seen earlier from the window. They exited, moving down the stairs. She furrowed her brow. Her gaze turning back to the room now, the door wide open. She dared to move forward into the room. Her gaze fell on an empty bed then trailed the length of the room to the opposite end where her eyes landed on a man sitting in a chair with his back toward her. She managed a step forward again, her eyes filling with tears. She could only see his back, but in her heart, she knew who he was. For her dreams had shown his image often. Her whole body shook. She took in a breath and willed herself to speak. "Philippe?"

The sound of his name being called rung through the silence. He furrowed his brow, not immediately turning. His gaze had been resting in the mirror, looking at his new, clean shaven self. He tilted his gaze to see a familiar reflection standing behind him. His breath caught. He braced himself. His heart racing. He stood up slowly, his hand gripping the table as if to stabilize himself. He turned toward her now, his blue eyes lifting then resting on her. He inhaled. His suspicion confirmed. He could recognize her fully now. All the years of memories that had begun to fade from him, her image had reigned mostly true. He stared at her for a long while. Her name then spilled from his lips in quiet but sweet anticipation. "Elise?"

She nodded. Her frame trembling. She had missed how he called her name. She had missed the way it sounded from him. She took a breath. She managed a step forward now, watching as he did the same. She had to get close to him. She had to make sure he was real. She had to make sure this wasn't another one of her nightmares. She pushed herself forward again, working to close the distance between them with each shaky, uncertain step. She hesitated. Now only inches from him. She reached out tentatively.

Philippe's hand reached to hers, shaking. He managed to take her hand in his. His mouth parted in surprise at the realization of her touch.

Elise gasped. His touch was real! He was real! She lunged toward him, throwing her arms around him, nearly toppling him over. She buried her face into his shoulder and sobbed.

Philippe managed to steady himself, instinctively pulling her close. The shock of her presence and her touch left him unable to think for a moment. Then slowly, his mind began to process everything. Tears poured down his cheeks. She was here! At last! He clung to her as tightly as she did. Content to have her in his arms again.

Long minutes passed. Silence pervaded the room save for the occasional sobs or sniffles shared from both. Neither let go. Neither wanted to. Elise clung to him, gripping his shirt with shaking fingers, afraid to let go. Philippe held her closer, tenderly. Not willing to release her anytime soon. The two shared in the silence, then slowly, after some time, began to pull back so they could look at each other.

"I thought this day would never come!" Elise uttered softly, through quiet sniffles, her eyes tracing everything about him. "Tu m'as manqué!" She whispered gratefully, gently reaching up, smoothing her hands over his cheeks.

Philippe couldn't stop looking at her though he closed his eyes briefly at her touch. "Tu m'as manqué aussi! More than you know!" he responded tearfully, gently taking her hands in his.

"I think I have an idea." She smiled wryly, sniffling. "I have prayed every day for you. For your safe return. And here you are!"

Philippe smiled, "Dieu has been gracious to set me free and to bring you back to me." He looked her over. She had changed, grown, but she was still familiar to him. "You look beautiful." He uttered abruptly then blushed.

She blushed in turn, pulling back a moment. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and took a moment to dry her eyes. "Merci". She smiled. "This may sound strange, but I feel like I'm fourteen again." She laughed. "It's like meeting you for the first time again…"

"I feel the same, in a way." He laughed in response attempting to dry his eyes in turn. "It feels strange…but…it is a little different this time. We have both grown…and, I heard you live with a wealthy family now, is that right?"

She softened, her gaze dropping, "Oui…after we were separated…I eventually moved to Paris. I was taken in by the Chevalier family as one of their own. But do you want to know a secret?" she bit her lip, smiling, her eyes lifting back to his with a playful hint.

He looked at her in amusement, "Oui."

Her smile softened. She approached him and looked at him meaningfully, "As much as I appreciate what the Chevaliers have done for me, and for all that I have been given, those two years spent with you were the happiest of my life. I would trade all of my days elsewhere, all of the wealth, everything I was given, just to relive those years with you."

His gaze dropped and he flushed. Tears tried to resurface again but he swallowed hard, attempting to push them back. He slowly nodded and looked back up at her. He smiled softly, "Merci Elise."

She nodded then let her eyes scan his face and physique in full. He was still attractive and familiar to her, but she could tell he looked a little pale and thin. She furrowed her brow, curious by this, "What happened to you all these years?"

Philippe blinked at her; suddenly aware she had no idea how he had suffered. He had assumed she had known, that someone had told her. He inhaled, not wanting to answer her question at first. He brushed his eyes with the back of his sleeve, still attempting to force his tears back. He glanced toward the open window, his eyes resting on the trees blowing in the gentle wind outside. "Do you remember the night we were separated?"

"Of course, how could I forget?!"

He looked back to her, a small smile lifting his lips at her memory, but it quickly disappeared as he continued. "I was taken that night to a prison by a man in black, I never saw his face. And I don't know where I was as I was unable to see. They had put a hood over my head. All I remember were the sounds and how afraid I felt and how I kept worrying about what happened to you and Mae and Father Alard."

Elise looked down, wondering now if Philippe had any knowledge of what happened to his caretakers. She opened her mouth to speak when he began to move. She hesitated. Her eyes followed him in curiosity.

Philippe crossed to the chair next to the fireplace. His gaze resting on something in front of the chair. Something, Elise couldn't see. She stood silent, waiting on him.

"Once I was inside the prison, I was placed into this mask." He continued, picking up the mask from the floor. He brought it carefully toward her. "I was forced to wear it and left in a prison cell until a few weeks ago when Aramis, Athos, and Porthos were kind enough to free me and I was brought here."

Elise's eyes trailed to the mask, her mouth parting in horror. Tears brimmed at her eyes once more. She covered her mouth, wanting to turn away but she couldn't. She stared at the mask in horror and disgust. It looked heavy and certainly uncomfortable. She looked toward Philippe, deep sorrow and sympathy spilling over her eyes in silent streams down her cheeks. "You've been in prison all this time in that…" she cut off.

Philippe could barely look at her. Partially from embarrassment, partially from the fact he had to tell her this awful truth and watch her suffer. "Je suis désolé." He said quietly, setting the mask down on a nearby table. "I thought someone may have told you already."

She shook her head, unable to respond. She moved to sit down in the chair nearest to her. Her eyes were glued to the mask. She sat in silence, tears continuing to fall down her cheeks. She had been told by Aramis that Philippe would be alright. She had thought that Aramis would have taken care of him but now she knew the truth. She shook her head; something clearly troubling her. She managed to find her voice at last though it was broken and soft. "This doesn't make any sense. Why would the man who put you there suddenly free you now?"

Philippe had stood back, his eyes dropped to the floor, but at her question he looked up at her. "What do you mean?"

She stood up and looked at him in concern. "Philippe, the man in black…the one who took you to the prison…was Aramis."

Philippe paled, his throat caught, "no…that can't be right. He set me free!" He hesitated, a thought coming to light, "but that would explain how he knew how to find me…" He shook his head, "but why? Why would he do this to me?!"

"Perhaps I can explain." Aramis' voice came from the open door causing the two to nearly jump.

Elise spun around, suddenly feeling very uneasy. She moved closer to Philippe as if to protect him. Philippe stared at Aramis, confused and fearful. Tears brimming in his eyes. "You…you were the man in black? The one who put me in prison and put the mask on me?"

Aramis hesitated, his gaze dropping to the floor. He slowly nodded, speaking quietly. "Yes." He looked up to him now, his eyes full of regret and sorrow. "Please, allow me to explain." He gestured toward the hall, beckoning them to come with him.

Neither one of them moved. Elise looked toward Aramis, "Why can't you explain here, now?"

"Because the truth must be told to everyone." Aramis sighed. "Please." He gestured again.

The two looked at each other uneasily. Elise gripped Philippe's hand, placing her other hand protectively over his arm, then looked toward Aramis, "You promised me he would be alright!" she cried, "if you do anything to harm him again…" she hesitated, tears streaming down her cheeks. She had no threats she could use. She knew if Aramis was going to do something, neither she nor Philippe would be able to do anything about it. They were trapped here.

"I did promise", Aramis nodded, "and, in a way, I have delivered on that promise, as he is standing here with you now, unharmed. But I do understand your mistrust mademoiselle." Aramis offered softly, "I promise you now, as a former musketeer and as a priest, under God Himself", he crossed himself, "I will not bring harm to either of you...ever again."

Elise wasn't so certain, but Philippe who had been watching him carefully finally nodded after a long moment. He looked toward Elise, somewhat shaken, but he spoke confidently, "I believe him…" He gently placed his hand over Elise's.

She took in a shaky breath, "I don't want to lose you again."

Philippe turned to look at her fully, taking both of her hands gently in his. "You won't." he encouraged. "He and Athos and Porthos have been nothing but kind to me. They freed me, brought me here, took me out of the mask, and have nursed me back to health. I believe him Elise…despite what he did to me all those years ago. Now I just want to know why…"

She closed her eyes then slowly nodded. Wiping her eyes, she forced herself to calm down then looked toward Aramis finally with some reservation. "Lead the way."

Aramis nodded, leading the two down the stairs. Reaching the dining room, he looked to the other three men who were all seated and took his place at the head of the table. He then waited patiently as Elise then Philippe made their way into the room.

Philippe's entry caused the three men to gasp. Athos leaned forward; his eyes were glued on Philippe's face. Porthos looked back and forth between Aramis and Philippe in confusion, waiting for an answer, while Jacques stared in profound horror. Aramis gestured to the two empty chairs at the head of the table.

Philippe felt a little uneasy and very confused by everyone's stares, but Elise suddenly recalled why they were looking at him that way. It was the same way she felt first seeing the king's face. She furrowed her brow and looked toward Aramis, waiting for him to speak.

Aramis looked at the two across from him. He could see their pain and he knew he had been the one to cause it. He looked around at his brothers, knowing the truth had to come out, half wondering what Porthos or Athos would think about what he had done. He had lived with the guilt of his decision all these years. He drew a breath, "I had intended on doing this differently. I wanted to be able to explain things a little before you found out the horrible truth of what I had done." He looked toward the pair then looked toward the others in the room who were clearly confused, save for Jacques. Jacques knew he had been involved in delivering the prisoner. As a priest himself it was a bit odd to be the one who was confessing. He drew in a breath, bracing himself for the reaction to his confession. "The reason I knew of Philippe…is quite simple. It was I who took him from his home, from those he loved, and who put him in the prison and mask."

Athos, who had been looking at Philippe nearly the entire time, suddenly turned to look at Aramis. The look on his face alone caused Aramis' heart to drop. It was a look he knew all too well, the very look he had had nightmares about, the same look Elise and Philippe had shared with him already, a look of pain and accusation. A look that asked, how could he have been so cruel? He glanced toward Porthos now whose look was softer but still questioning and pained.

"I didn't do this out of my own volition or will. It was ordered of me. Not that that makes it any better, I know."

Athos' face had turned red, Aramis could tell he was holding in his anger for the moment. But Athos' words came out very pointed nonetheless, "Who ordered it?"

Aramis looked toward him, "Who do you think?"

Athos furrowed his brow, but Aramis continued before another word could be said.

He looked toward Philippe, "All your life, you have been wondering who you were. You had no identity. No friends. Save for the angel God has provided you." He gestured toward Elise. "Then you were taken to a prison and your face was covered. Now the question became why." He sat down, folding his hands in front of him, "Now I am going to tell you the secret that has been kept from you for the whole of your life. It began on the night king Louis was born."

"Wait…I recall that night…" Porthos interjected thoughtfully. "d'Artagnan, Athos, and I were dining, d'Artagnan was dead drunk, it's the only time I've ever seen him like that."

Athos made a slow nod in recollection, but Jacques only furrowed his brow. He had never known d'Artagnan to ever be one who drank himself to that level.

"But I was on duty." Aramis continued, "I was summoned that night to a rear door of the palace where the queen's own priest placed a baby in my arms. The queen had given birth to twins that night, and the child I carried was the younger of the two."

"Do you understand this Athos? It still confuses me!" Porthos exclaimed, still stuck on the memory.

Aramis stood up now, needing to get them back to the matter of hand, "Suddenly, the old king realized he had two heirs, he had seen enough kingdoms torn apart by feuding brothers, so he decided, for the sake of peace, to make one of them disappear." He looked toward Philippe, who with great fear, had begun to suspect what he was about to say, "You, Philippe." He continued, "He ordered your true identity to be kept from you only allowing you to keep your first name. I was ordered then to take you as an infant to the countryside to be raised by your caretaker. It wasn't until sixteen years later when your father was on his deathbed that he revealed your existence to Louis and your mother. Your mother had been told by the priest that you had died at birth. She blamed herself for believing it, and she wished to restore your birth right, but now, Louis was king. Instead of abiding to your mother's wish, he wanted to get rid of you. But he was afraid to kill you, for his whole claim of power rested on the sanctity of royal blood. So…he devised a way to keep you forever hidden." He glanced to Philippe with regret and remorse in his eyes, "I was ordered to take you to the prison and put you into the mask. That night, for my country and my king, I bought peace. With your life. And with my soul. One day, I will ask for your forgiveness, but not until I have restored you to what is yours."

Philippe blinked at him. The word jarring him momentarily from all he had just taken in. "Restored?"

He nodded, "The plan is for you to replace Louis as king."

Philippe's mouth dropped, he stared at him in shock, "Plan? I…" he tried to formulate more words, but nothing would come forth.

"And how do you propose we do that?" Athos spoke up.

"How do you think? No one knows Louis has a twin, so we will simply exchange them, one for the other. Philippe will become Louis."

Athos blinked at him, nearly laughing, "That's been your plan all along?! It's ludicrous!"

Aramis rose a brow sitting down again, he looked toward Athos, "I can assure you it's brilliant. What did you imagine we were up to?"

"I don't know, perhaps revolution?! Open war!" Athos retorted.

"Blood in the streets…" Aramis shook his head with a sigh, "I offer a chance for a revolution without bloodshed, without loss of life, and even without treason for he too is the son of a king." He gestured toward Philippe then looked back toward Athos. "This is the perfect plan."

Athos leaned forward. "Aramis, physical resemblance is just a beginning, you can't just throw Philippe up there to pretend to be Louis…he has an arrogance…a manner…"

"Which can be taught and adopted." Aramis replied calmly.

"And people close to him!"

"Do you imagine I have not considered that? That I have not considered everything?!"

"Have you considered that it is not only our lives that you risk, it is Philippe's as well?!"

"Yes! And like us, he has a choice!" He stood up, leveling his gaze on Athos then looked toward Philippe, his hands resting on the table, his gaze bore into his now. "What about it Philippe? All those years in prison, were they for nothing? Or have they given you reserves of strength unlike ordinary men? You have the chance to become king! If you have the heart to take that chance. Do you have that heart Philippe?"

Philippe blinked between he and Athos, then toward Elise. An increasing fear and uncertainty flooded through him.

"Do you?" Aramis asked again.

"I…." Philippe began. He wasn't sure how to respond. The knowledge of everything began to overwhelm him. His heart raced in his chest feeling as if it would burst through at any moment.

"Do you?" Aramis asked a little more intently.

Philippe stood and started to run, stopping abruptly at the door that led to the stairs, realizing it was rude to leave this way, but he needed to breathe. He needed a moment to think. He momentarily glanced back toward Elise apologetically, realizing he had nearly run from her in the process. Tears began to brim at his eyes once more. He felt cornered and trapped.

Athos looked toward Aramis giving him a look of warning, indicating he needed to back off. He then turned to look toward Philippe and started to get up to try and calm Philippe down, but Elise moved first. He paused and sat again watching them carefully.

Elise had left her chair, moving over to Philippe. She gently touched his shoulder, silently letting him know she understood and that he didn't need to apologize to her or anyone for that matter. For a long moment, she stood in silence, her gaze dropped to the floor, but slowly she turned toward Aramis. Her eyes swelled with tears from confusion, pain, and anger. She managed to find her voice, "Is this the only reason you set him free? For some selfish plan?!"

Aramis looked at her, "Selfish? I assure you none of this was done out of selfishness."

"You are only doing this because of your guilt are you not?!"

He shook his head, "Non mademoiselle. My guilt is my own to bear."

"Then why now? Why after six years?! Why couldn't you have left him alone? We were happy then." She whispered brokenly.

"I had no choice." Aramis responded quietly. "Had I not done what the king commanded me, someone else would have. Even if I had betrayed the king, and I let him stay, someone would have seen Philippe at some point. He would have been recognized and a war would have started, or worse. He would have been killed."

"Yet you are betraying the king now, aren't you?!" she raised her voice slightly, "Why is it different this time?!"

"Have you not seen the king's actions as of late? You, who live in Paris, certainly should have noticed how he treats his people. Or at the very least heard rumors of it."

She could not deny that she had heard bad things about the king. Her mind instantly flashed back to the day she, Rose, and Josette were locked inside a fabric shop due to riots outside. She recalled how worried and concerned Bernard had been all the time, picking up on hushed conversations where he spoke of wars and people who were starving in Paris. She had also heard plenty of rumors of how the king had one of his advisors beheaded for something he had not even done. Then to think of the fact that this same king ordered Philippe to be sent to prison to such a cruel fate, a king who was supposedly the twin brother of Philippe! She folded her arms. Now she understood why she mistook the king for Philippe. She knew Aramis wasn't lying about this. She looked back to Aramis, her true question coming forth. "And what if the king was a good king. Would you still have freed Philippe?"

"If he was a good king, none of this would have happened. At the time, I thought I was doing what was right…buying peace for the country. And I believed then that it was possible for Louis to become a good king. But as the years went on, it was clear that I was wrong. But to answer your question, yes." Aramis responded quietly. He looked toward Philippe who had halfway turned to listen, then back to her, "I will not force Philippe into this even though I believe he has a divine opportunity to save this country from a tyrant. I would like Philippe to take over the role as I believe he could help, but more than anything, I wish to restore it all to him. Everything he has suffered…everything…I took part in taking from him. He deserves to have it all back and more."

Elise stood quietly; she could tell the weight of Aramis' decisions were afflicting him. She softened, "I'm sorry…I shouldn't have called you selfish. Especially considering you saved my life more than once... I just wish…" she teared up, "I wish none of this had happened."

Aramis nodded, "As do I mademoiselle."

Philippe slowly looked toward Aramis, "I need some time to think all of this through. I'm sorry I cannot give you the answer you seek right now."

Aramis was disappointed but he nodded to him, "I understand."

Philippe took Elise's hand. "May we be excused please?"

"Of course. Though you don't need to ask permission, Philippe."

Philippe nodded then he and Elise exited, heading up the stairs. Jacques, who had been sitting quietly the entire time stood up slowly. "I think I need a moment to process all of this as well." He shook his head then walked out toward the kitchen. Porthos stood up as well. "I think I need a drink…" he headed out behind Jacques.

Athos watched them leave then looked toward Aramis, "that went well." He commented sarcastically.

Aramis sighed. "I should have expected this would be a bit overwhelming for him."

"Finding out your family, and the man who freed you, betrayed and abandoned you to suffer and rot in a prison and an iron mask is overwhelming enough. Then you practically started to demand he take on a huge role for which he is not even prepared for!"

"I know…" Aramis put his hand up. "I realize that."

"Now." Athos quipped then shook his head. "So, what happens if he chooses not to do this?"

"He will do it."

Athos tilted his head, looking at him incredulously, "What makes you so confident?"

"The long answer? I believe in divine intervention and that fate has aligned us here all together for a higher purpose for such a time as this. The short answer?" Aramis smiled, looking upward toward Philippe's room. "It's faith."