Though the news rocks him back, Athos keeps his expression carefully blank. He busies himself with opening the bottle of wine and filling a glass for each of them as his mind races behind his eyes. The day’s worries, and work, and accomplishments, all the little things that have kept him distracted an nominally content, fall away from him. He thought he had made his peace with this inevitability, but now his stomach twists with longing and loneliness. Aramis and Porthos are taking another step down the path they have set for themselves, while he remains trapped on his own. Worse yet, both men look at him with something like fear as they share the news, as though he were a wild animal who might strike if they make the wrong move. Athos barely suppresses a wince, hating that he causes such pain, certain that this is only more reason to keep his distance from everything concerning the babe.

All Athos can do is try not to cause even more hurt. “You can speak plainly, you know. The woman is pregnant.” He keeps his voice light, pushes a glass of wine towards each of them, and then holding up his own. “Then congratulations are in order."