All For Love

Chapter 2: Nothing Ventured, Nothing Gained

Chapter 2: Nothing Ventured, Nothing Gained

Disclaimer: Own nothing but Antoinette and plot twists, everything else goes to the actors, studios, and the great Alexandre Dumas :) Please read and review!

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The cause for a sudden celebration after redressing led the group to drink Venice dry in her fountain of youth and booze. Hazy memories of Athos and Milady bantering while stealing drunken kisses across the table while Porthos charmed the bar maidens with few alluring words in Italian combined with French. Their giggles were heard from the other side of the room where Aramis stole away his lover in a dark corner booth. Her incessant giggling and his persistent lust amored them to heated conversation.

"Might we draw for the night, love?" he asked taking a breather and quick mouthful from his tankard.

She massaged his hair back from their steamy kisses. "Mhmm, right after I beat you at your own game. Two ales!" she ordered to the bar wenches. They delivered the frothy alcohol within moments, happy to have a full bar of eager customers.

He laughed as he held a grip on the tankard. "Might I inquire your intentions in getting ourselves drunk? Do you remember the last time we were lovedrunk?"

Antoinette's eyes checked the ale before bit her lip at the distant memory. A night's full of driven passion and longing with the warmth of alcohol flowing through their veins still gave her the shivers.

"I believe," she recalled squinting her eyes. "you broke the headboard,"

He scowled at her prudent teasing. "Don't forget you had tripped over a chair on the way to,"

Her laughing ceased as she gently prodded her nose where it had once been bruised. One bruise however did not stop the love Aramis gave off. She pouted as she swung her head back drinking in a stale beer.

Aramis left his untouched as he set hers down and drowned her mouth with his lips and dancing tongue. They stopped for another minute of rash breathing before hastily leaving the tavern up to the assigned room they were given only a day ago. Aramis slammed Antoinette's back to the door with a hand by her head. Hers were underneath his shirt and to the pocket he kept the inn key.

"Looking for something?" she giggled as he opened the door with the key before closing it and discarded the metal as he pursued Antoinette. Her back forcefully met the plush mattress of the bed and half of her corset undone when a sharp knock came from the door.

Aramis shouted something in Italian, more than likely curses but the knocks continued with rapid, fluent Italian. Antoinette rolled over the hovering the frustrated Aramis. She grabbed her robe and presented herself decent to receive a curt apology and a letter addressed to her.

She closed the door and inspected the seal on the back.

"It is from Papa," she glanced at the wax red seal of the House of Lorraine and the barony of Chevreuse.

Aramis sat up right with his head against the backboard. He groaned. "Why is it that your father always interferes when we are in the middle of something?"

She remembered the brief love spots of her and Aramis in her estate, in the barn, scandalously in the garden, and when he was there: in the palace foyer. She broke the seal with an envelope knife.

"He can be a nuisance but at least he doesn't forbid our affairs," she reminded him as he put his holy cross necklace on the bedpost nearest him. He grabbed his reading glasses and a pocket version of the Bible from his bag before adjusting carefully on the right side of the bed.