"My deepest, darkest fantasy," says Aramis, lifting both brows. "There are probably dozens vying for the spot." His eyes go unfocused for a moment, but then he cocks his head. "Each time I did something you or Athos found particularly reckless, I imagined you dressing me down for it. You know how you do," Aramis tells him.

"You loom, somehow looking bigger than you truly are. And you don't shout, you growl." Aramis sighs. "I love your growl. Sometimes," he admits, "You'd take me into the stables and you'd show me just how much you wanted me around. And sometimes," he adds with a grin, "If I'd been particularly bad, you'd put me over your knee."