ˢᵃᵘᵈᵃᵈᵉ

aramis 𝔁 fem! reader
𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕖𝕖 𝕞𝕦𝕤𝕜𝕖𝕥𝕖𝕖𝕣𝕤 (2011)

❝ rise, sir aramis. i would rather your eyes on me
than the floor when you speak of me so sweetly. ❞

𝐃'𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐚𝐰𝐞, 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐥𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐫. He glanced to the man beside him, his brow raising slightly at the sight of him fiddling with his cross.

Aramis looked to be - an emotion unworthy of painting the handsome man's face - nervous. His shoulders were taught as his eyes focused on the ground and anything of interest, his long fingers dancing across the large religious necklace settled over his chest. 

"Aramis," Porthos whispered loudly, leaning forward slightly, and the man ignored him, continuing to fidget. "Your nerves are showing."

"Your insides will be as well if you don't shut up," Athos muttered.

"His Majesty, the King!" a voice suddenly shouted, and the four musketeers lowered to the floor immediately, one knee held out in a kneeling position.

"Well, well, well," the King smirked, marching forward in his heels across the cobblestone floor. He stopped in front of the men, looking down at them with the slightest amusement on his pale face, the Cardinal beside him with a clashing look of distaste. "Brawling with the Cardinal's guards. That's very bad. What have you got to say for yourselves?"

"We-."

"Humbly beg your pardon, Your Majesty," Aramis interrupted D'artagnan, the pair sharing a look.

"Yes. Yes, I should hope so, too," Louis agreed with a nod. "So, tell me, how many were involved in the altercation?"

"There were four of us against 40 of them, Your Majesty," Porthos informed. A thrill ran through the King when he heard such information, a starstruck smirk flitting across his lips.

"Four against 40?" he repeated, his smile widening when Porthos merely nodded. "And you beat them like a drum?" Immediately, the Cardinal began coughing, and the glee disappeared from Louis' face as he continued with a straight face, "And yes, you shall have to be reprimanded, of course, most harshly, I'm afraid. You do understand that, don't you?"

"We do, Your Majesty," Athos nodded.

Suddenly, a loud clanging of arrival was heard, and the announcer spoke, "Her Royal Highness, the Princess."

The musketeers looked towards the staircase to their left, and their eyes could hold only one simple emotion.

Admiration. 

You walked forward, your dress a silk blend skirt and corset of purple with hints of elaborate silver patterns running down the fabric. Your hair was styled to frame your face perfectly, your lips pulled into a fond smile as you came to a stop.

"Y/N," Louis greeted, the love for his dear younger sister evident in his grin. 

"Louis," you nodded, before casting a glance at the four kneeling musketeers. "My ladies and I wanted to see the valiant Musketeers who stood against the Cardinal's guards. Four against 40?" You glanced back at your lady in waiting, Constance, a soft smirk tugging at your lips. "Or was it 400?"

"Just 40, Your Highness," Athos said, meeting your eye with a small smile. "It would never be our attention to mislead you, princess."

"I suppose you could call it one of your off days," you smirked.

Louis let out a wheezy chuckle, glancing at some of the people gathered, "That's my Musketeers for you. By the time they write songs about them, it'll be 4,000."

"I hope you won't be too harsh with them," you said, tilting your head at your brother. "After all, boys will be boys." You then began walking forward towards the furthest Musketeer from you, the man looking up at you with wide eyes. "You must be D'artagnan. My lady in waiting has told me about how brave and dashing you were yesterday. But you must try not to be so reckless."

"Can't help myself, Your Highness," he said, sending you a smile, to which a small spout of laughter spilled from your lips, sending every person's heart in the room soaring.

The Princess of France was truly loved by all.

"Your Majesty, the culprits," the Cardinal reintroduced, your brother falling to his tricks once more as he agreed. You walked back towards your lady in waitings, but not before glancing to the side at the man beside D'artagnan. 

Aramis remained still, but you knew he could feel his gaze on you. You hummed slightly, before walking back towards Constance and Abigail, awaiting to see what would happen.

"Ah! Yes, yes. Um, well, stand up then." The Musketeers adhered to the king's demand, the four men standing with their arms crossed behind their backs. He walked towards them, beginning at Athos before walking by, stating their names. "Athos... Porthos... Aramis." The man nodded his head in recognition, the king smirking at him when he noticed the god-driven man glance at you for only a moment. "Forgive me for saying this, D'artagnan, but um, you do look a little underdressed."

"My father is a poor man, Your Majesty," the younger man explained. "A former Musketeer as well. These are the only clothes I have."

"Oh, Lord. We shall have to rectify that," Louis frowned. Can't have my Musketeers, or the son of one, looking like tramps. New suits all around, I think. Yes. You'll see to that, Cardinal? And, uh, yes, I think a purse of gold for each as a reward for your courage. You'll see to that as well, Cardinal. Oh, and yes, before I forget, no more fighting with His Eminence's guards. Hmm?"

He walked back towards his place by the Cardinal as you mockingly joked, "Or there'll be none of them left."

Chuckles echoed in the hall, however were soon silenced when the Eminence began speaking, "Your Majesty, might I suggest a more-."

"Forgive me for my impudence, Cardinal, but I doubt my brother requires your advice in this matter. After all, they are his Musketeers." You glanced over at the four with a smile, all men returning it with their own. "And I owe them my life from more than one occasion, and you know the King holds that in very high regard."

The Cardinal's face remained impassive, with all but a slight pained smile pulling at his mouth. "You do mean, quite literally, the world to them, Your Royal Highness," he murmured. "As to all, princess."

You hummed with a petty smile, nodding to yourself before you began walking. "Good day, gentlemen," you said as you passed them, the men immediately falling to their knee as they harmoniously bid you farewell.

Aramis could only watch your retreating figure as you made your way into the gardens. His attention was pulled back to the king when he spoke, "Well now, off with you rascals. But be there for the parade tomorrow. New suits and all."

The next day, you stood at the head of the royal balcony, your brother centre with Queen Anne to his other side whilst you stood to his left. You were awaiting the arrival of Buckingham, the 

"Well, where is he, then? It's just appalling manners," your brother whined.

"Louis," you scolded, sending him a pointed stare to which he sighed and pulled back. 

You looked down over the balcony, your eyes latching onto the figure of your four friends down by the side of the Cardinal's guards. You barely bit back a smile at the sight of Aramis in his new attire. Adorned in all black, the leather strapped across his body fit like a glove. His hair was curled and slicked as it usually was, but his beard had been touched up.

And... the cross. He was wearing it. As he always did. You noticed it yesterday as well, your gaze lingering on it for a moment before you had entered the room with your ladies, your head tilting to the side as you watched him fiddle with it.

You had gifted it to him all those years ago and he still wore it.

Your eyes were pulled away from the sight of a large shadow falling over the castle, your gaze widening in shock at the sight of a ship flying in the air.

"Damn his impudence!" Louis guffawed when the bottom of the ship scraped over a rod on the castle roof, the large stick crashing onto the floor whilst the anchor nearly killed the men standing by when it unceremoniously dropped from the sky. "What is that thing called anyway, Richelieu?"

"... An airship, Your Majesty," the Cardinal answered.

"Why don't I have one of those?"

"An oversight on our part."

"Right. Right. Well, build me one."

The airship lowered to the ground in the courtyard of the castle whilst your brother and the Cardinal were the first to leave before you followed with Queen Anne. She smiled at you and you shared soft words with one another as you walked after the pair.

The door of the airship opened, revealing Buckingham in all his blue glory. "Blue," Louis mumbled before glancing down at his green attire, rolling his eyes, "Oh."

Buckingham walked down the wooden aisle, coming to a stop in front of the king and the Cardinal, holding his arm across his chest as he bowed. "Your Majesty." Looking up, he took in the king's outfit, eyebrows raising slightly. "Love the outfit. Very retro. We were all wearing those in London, when was it, last year or the year before?"

Louis laughed shortly before speaking, "Lord Buckingham, I trust your journey wasn't too uncomfortable."

"Not at all. No. On the contrary. Handles like a dream and keeps me one step closer to heaven," the man smiled, before meeting the eyes of Richelieu. "Cardinal." Bending down, he grasped the hand that the Cardinal held out, suddenly dragging him closer as he pressed a kiss to his ring. "Of course, being a servant of God, you have no need for such crude devices. King James is most eager to hear your peace proposal."

"Lord Buckingham."

He looked up at the sound of your voice, jaw slacking slightly as he muttered your name, "Y/N. Your Royal Highness." He bowed, glancing up and seeing the Queen appear by your side. "And Your Majesty. I must say your beauty is far more radiant than I remember."

You hoped to God he was saying that to Anne, but from the way his eyes simply remained on you, you begged to differ.

Aramis watched the exchange, the veins in his neck practically begging to be released from their confines as his hand unconsciously moved towards his weapon.

"Steady," Athos whispered, placing a gloved hand over Aramis', which tightened dangerously over the hilt of his sword.

"You've met before?" your brother questioned, brow lifting in confusion as he appraised the way the Lord watched you.

"Only once," you assured.

"An evening I shall cherish forever," he smirked.

"Right," Louis cleared his throat. "Well, shall we?"

Louis began walking with the Cardinal, with you and Anne in tow as Buckingham followed after. As you passed by, the Musketeers and the other formal guards lowered to their knees in respect of the king passing.

"Now this is a pleasant surprise," Buckingham smirked when he saw the men on the ground.

"Hah, another acquaintance of yours, I see," Louis said, annoyance tainting the tone of his words.

"We've met, yes," Athos spoke sternly. 

"As I recall, last I saw you, you were on your knees as well," the Lord reminisced. "Most unfortunate habit."

"It's a habit I shall have to break during our next encounter," the Musketeer spat out lowly.

"I look forward to it."

"I hope you are not insulting my Musketeers, Lord Buckingham," you said, raising a single brow in wonder. "I do hold these men in very high regard, and if any offence was-."

"No offence intended, Your Royal Highness," Buckingham quickly reassured, pressing a hand to his heart. "Since you hold them so close to your heart, any offence to them is offence to you. And you are far too precious for any to be warranted."

Suddenly, Aramis was rising, his glare cold and hard as it was trained on Buckingham. However, the man before him merely smirked slightly as he realised how much he had riled up the Musketeer, and Aramis' stance soon went rigid once he realised what he had just done. Everyone remained bowing, and they all stared at him with a mixture of emotions; confusion, smugness and...

Your lips parted slightly as you watched him, and he could only hold your gaze for a moment before he cleared his throat. 

"Yes?" you asked softly.

"... I..." He couldn't find a proper excuse in the moment, too caught up in the way you were looking at him. One glance into your eyes was enough for him to hear the words you were silently pleading for.

Say something. Anything, please.

"When offence and the princess mix, we Musketeers do grow quite protective," Porthos saved just in time, sending a smile to the king who hummed with an approving nod.

"Such an important quality," Louis grinned.

"In the meantime, shall we talk peace?" Buckingham spoke, hoping to draw away the attention.

The Cardinal agreed, and before you knew it, you and Anne were being swept up whilst the men went on to talk politics. You managed to break away from them, disappearing towards the gardens for a breath of fresh air. 

The gardens were by far your favourite place in the castle, aside from your bedroom, of course. Dozens of flowers and plants dotted the bright greenery, and you found your way to one of the centerings.

Sunlight danced on the wading water of the fountain, and you smiled at the sight of the two swans that lived there. A pairing couple that had been gifted to from the Prince of Germany a few years ago. The male, black as night, and the female, white as snow, slowly floated towards you, the female much more open with her feelings towards you then that of the male.

Her head nuzzled under your palm, and you met the inky black gaze of the male from afar. He watched his beloved, a silent protector, cawing softly when she finally bid you farewell and returned safely to him.

"A symbol of wisdom," a voice murmured, and you stiffened once you recognised it. You turned in your seat to find Aramis watching the two swans from afar. 

You felt as if they mirrored you and him right now - he was dressed in complete black leather whilst you adorned a silky white gown. Symbolism at its finest, you thought to yourself.

"Wisdom," you repeated in a hum.

"And beauty," he added, to which you smiled.

"I like that one better," you chuckled slightly, and he huffed a small laugh. "I mean, look at them. I think they're the prettiest creatures I've ever seen."

"I wish I could agree with you... But I find myself staring at something far more beautiful."

You looked over once again, and blushed upon finding him staring at you, but he quickly evaded your gaze, suddenly lowering himself to the floor. "I forget myself," he murmured. "Your Royal Highness, I humbly request your forgiveness for such a bald statement."

Your smile was soft and sweet, and you were quick to request, "Rise, Sir Aramis. I would rather your eyes on me than the floor when you speak of me so sweetly"

Who was he to deny his princess? The very reason he risked his life day and day again simply to be bestowed a form of gratitude he only ever sought from her. So, Aramis raised his gaze from the floor as he too pulled himself up. Finally, after all these encounters, his eyes worked to find yours.

You inhaled slowly, letting out a breath upon meeting his gaze. Your brows furrowed slightly as you took in his face. It always did seem to pull you in, even from the moment you met him and his band of companions. 

He had told you to calm down, and you had snapped at him, stating that you had every right to be panicking, and all the man could do was stare at you in awe. For no one had heard such harsh words spill from the tongue of a princess, let alone one of France. From then on, you always seemed to find yourself in trouble - not at your expanse, you constantly defended - and Aramis was always there to save you.

Your handsome Musketeer. 

"Aramis," you smiled.

"Your Highness," he mumbled.

"My name sounds much sweeter on your lips than my title."

You expected a blush from the man for he always seemed so reverent and admiral in your presence, but when his lips tugged into the slightest of smirks, his eyes dipping slightly to appraise you, it was you whose cheeks were stained maroon.

"Y/N." A purr is best how you would describe the way he said it. "It's quite informal of me to say such."

"And you are quite the dignified man," you hummed. Aramis chuckled, the sound sending shivers down your spine and you let out a breathy smile. "I've missed you, you know?"

"Well, you haven't been getting yourself into trouble," he shrugged a shoulder.

Your lips parted as a noise of shock escaped you. Immediately, you raised a hand, whacking the fan against his shoulder as he let out a laugh, stepping back slightly and holding onto his now 'injured' arm. 

"You foul man!" you exclaimed with a shocked grin. 

"You wound me, princess!" he laughed, emphasising the point by holding his arm tighter. "It seems the training has come in use."

"Not your training," you mused, sending him a cheeky grin. "But, yes, I suppose I have got quite the hit."

"Not my training?" he questioned, an eyebrow raising as he watched you begin walking around the fountain. He could only dutifully follow after you. "Now, whose training would you be implying?"

"What makes you think I have to tell you?" you wondered, turning around and beginning to walk backwards. Aramis could only watch you in wonder, your beauty incomparable as you simply offered him a shrug of your shoulder and an impudent smile. "My dear Aramis, it has been quite some time since you've graced me with your presence. I'd say we've lost that warrant to tell one another's secrets."

"I'd hoped you would've held me in high regard, as you so kindly stated to Buckingham," he spoke, and you were begging to the Lord himself that you were right about your suspicion of jealously in his tone.

So, you questioned it.

"Are you jealous, Aramis?" you asked with a flutter of your eyelashes.

The man's stare was enough to pin you in place as you came to a stop. Aramis stepped towards you with slow, calculating steps as he slowly shook his head from side to side. "Jealousy is a trivial thing."

"But it is not uncommon," you rebuked softly. "Especially in men."

"Are you hoping that I am jealous?" he then questioned, coming to a stop in front of you. 

You inhaled shakily, a quiet hum sounding as he lowered his head to meet your eyes. "What would you do if I said yes?"

The question was strung up on the line of tension coursing between you both. You tilted your head softly, and Aramis mirrored the action, his lips pursing as he watched you. 

"Every day, I wear this," he suddenly said instead, and you blinked at the sudden change of topic. He pulled back, only slightly, to lift the cross necklace that sat at his neck. The gold glimmered in the morning sun and you traced the gift with your eyes. "And every day, I hold it tightly, praying that the woman who gave it to me spends her days in the sun with a smile on her face. I pray that she is happy, and is surrounded with only the best things because that is what she deserves." He stared at the cross with dark eyes, and you closed your own when he closed his fist over it. "What type of man would I be to go against my very own prayers?"

"You'd be mine."

You weren't meant to say it, but the whisper was heard by the very man you hoped wouldn't.

Aramis stared at you, and anyone would be a right, positive fool to ignore the absolute longing in his eyes, preserved for you and only you.

His beautiful princess.

The Musketeer leaned forward, and you held in a shaky breath when his lips pressed against the smooth skin of your forehead. Aramis lingered there for only a moment, and you took this opportunity to press your hand over his chest, the cool gold of the cross settling beneath your palm. His hand moved towards your own, his skin warm as it caressed your own.

Pulling back, your hands dropped from one another, and Aramis stepped away from you, clearing his throat softly. This time, it was he who could not meet your gaze. 

"Y/N-..." Aramis stopped himself. "Your Royal Highness."

"I bid thee farewell..." He expected a spit of his title, but instead he was met with his name spoken with such yearning it had him shutting his eyes for a moment. "Aramis."