Swagger Inn (The Snug - extended)

[SisterHelenoftheEternalCatchUp]

For them that wants it, since the old snug is nearing the end of its life.
Come in, sit by the fire and relax with a Fuzzy Tom (or whatever drink grabs your fancy) and indluge in some drivel about which Musketeer is the FAFest.

If you're lucky, a literary wench might tell you a story.

(PS - No doilies allowed)

This thread is not be replacing The Tavern.
It's not a thread number
It's rumbling-in-the-background for anything that people don't want to put in the Tavern.

It seemed despite speaking more French at home than she did English, that Eliza found speaking English comforting as Jeanne chatted along with her as she brushed her hair one morning, a day away from Paris.
Today Eliza was meeting her fiancé, Henri the French Ambassador, she was nervous but happy Jeanne thought. She was lucky in that she had met him before and that they had seemed to like each other. Jeanne’s own thoughts were darting between Norah, Porthos and Aramis. She flushed guiltily realising that they strayed to Aramis more than her friend, and gulped as she recalled their night together.
“You alright?” Eliza asked with a smirk. Jeanne laughed and, finished with Eliza’s hair, stood back and went to fetch her dress and corset. Helping her on with them, she stood back and promised her that Henri would be pleased.
“Thank you” Eliza said, then stood and taking her hands asked if Jeanne would be her attendant at the wedding. Jeanne smiled and told that of course she would, realising how close it was and thought she should probably take every opportunity she could to be with Aramis; after they arrived back in Paris she would be too busy to continue their affair.

Jeanne left Eliza in the care of Henri, the Musketeers hovering at a polite but conspicuous distance. She stood at the edge of the steps leading down to the various gardens, but rather than admire the colours of the flowers, shielded her eyes with her hand and squinted at a small copse of trees away in the background. Looking around at the clouds she’d been warned could bring rain, she decided to risk being out without her shawl.
“Having a good day?” He murmured in her ear. Jeanne jumped a little, blushed and smiled. Aramis held out an arm “Shall we go for a walk?” he grinned, leading her down the steps.
They reached the rose garden and were about to go in when Aramis stopped, blushed a little and suggested they go and look at the trees that had caught her eye instead. Jeanne saw the sly look he gave her and grinned, nodding, her heart already speeding up in anticipation.
Aramis kissed her fingers as they walked, playing with them with his mouth, causing Jeanne’s body to shoot darts of pleasure all around it. Suddenly, as warned, it began to rain, one of those sudden, heavy showers that would be over in minutes, so laughing they ran to the trees and stood holding hands, listening to the rain on the leaves. Aramis looked at Jeanne, his smile dancing in his eyes as he watched a few drips land in her hair, or on her cheeks. He blushed again as he watched one roll down her collarbone and disappeared down her dress. Looking up slowly again, he met her eyes, amused and flirting with him and bent to lick the trail of water up again, to her neck, where he found her pulse beating faster and kissed it gently, teasing her.
Laughing as his beard tickled her, Jeanne ducked away and walked to a large oak tree, looking up at its enormity and ran her hands over it, taking in the earthy smell around them that served to add something extra to their senses. Keen to feel the cool breeze and the rain against his skin, Aramis felt himself harden as he imagined her running her hands over him, warm and insistent. He walked towards her again, eyes fixed on her mouth before he crushed it beneath his and pressed her back against the trunk.
Jeanne held on as if her life depended on it, arms round his neck, kissing him back as passionately as he was kissing her, her hands moving automatically to slide up inside his shirt where she felt his satin-soft skin before moving up over his chest hair, enjoying the feel as she ran her fingers over it causing him to catch his breath. He lowered his hands to her buttocks, and squeezed them, pulling her pelvis against his, his tongue playing with hers, then down her neck and his teeth grazed her collarbone.
Gasping for breath from both his kisses and the sudden drenching they got as somewhere above them some rain ran off a leaf, Jeanne stumbled and lost her balance. They laughed at each other, eyelashes stuck together and hair dripping wet. Muttering about getting her wet in other places, Aramis managed to hold her just enough to lower her gently, falling to his knees and then he looked down on her, a knee either side of her. She looked up at him against the bright green of the leaves and he smiled happily down at her, his eyes on her face, then her body and they grinned together as a huge drop of water fell onto his cheek. Leaning up, she gently sucked it away, smirking at his response. She saw droplets of water fall from his hair, glinting in the sunlight; at some point the shower had passed, and she reached up to pull him down to her as a surge of desire ran through her as she took in his beauty.
He laughed and kissed her again, deeply and slowly, running his hand down her body, pulling at her skirts and then back up her leg. Jeanne gasped as he reached her inner thigh, gently and teasingly playing with her skin until finally he drew a shaky breath at her obvious pleasure as he stroked her with his fingers and thumb.
“Just fuck me” Jeanne gasped, then blushed at her words. Aramis eyes darkened to almost black and he grinned wickedly, undoing his belts and dropping them on the soft ground. Bending to nibble her earlobe he told her to say please, that it was only polite after all and swirled his tongue over her neck, finding her weak spot again. Jeanne couldn’t help but sigh, her breath ragged and desperate.
“P...please...” she didn’t care what she sounded like and Aramis lost his breath for a moment as she hurriedly undid the laces on his breeches and reached in to release his cock. Groaning, trembling with the effort of trying to tease her, he slid into her, and then waited, watching her face carefully, enjoying how easily he could see her desire on it. Opening her eyes she gazed at him and brushed his hair from his face, before pulling him down to kiss her, moving her hips as she did. It was Aramis who gasped this time and she grabbed his buttocks, pulling him in deeper and harder, matching his thrusts with her own and although he tried to hold back a little, her voice, her hands and her hips made it impossible so he let go and fucked her, biting at her lips and her ears, grazing his teeth along her shoulder until she squirmed and bucked her hips, crying out under him. He followed close behind, thrusting deep into her, squeezing her hip as he came.
They slumped, breathless, stroking each other affectionately before Aramis lifted his head and looked at her. Jeanne sighed a little, and Aramis, raising his eyebrows a little, smiled.
They lay together watching the light dance through the leaves and Aramis held her close, kissing her affectionately.
“Best get you back.” He muttered against her hair. Jeanne groaned and stayed where she was, unsure whether she’d be able to walk yet and wanting to remain where she was for a while longer. Aramis tightened his arms around her and smiled lazily.

There you go MrsB - you've got your wish

Well

Well

Well

I think I need to get caught in a rainstorm to cool me off

All the oooooooooofffffttttttttttt....

It's Wednesday night. I might go & pick some grass & leaves & go & have a cold shower. Then I could combine SF's and Elk's efforts in one.

Best not actually. I might break.

Kissing fucking in the rain. That was bloody wonderful SF, very nicely pictured. Ooo I want a musketeer to get me wet in other places.

Please.

He was so tired now he could barely control the horse, fresh from the inn provided with great enthusiasm by the inn keeper who wanted nothing more than to boast about the time he helped a King’s Musketeer.
It was hot, and normally he liked the sun but today it made the dust sting his eyes until they watered, leaving stains running down his filthy cheeks and his throat sore. He’d barely eaten or drunk for the two days and nights it had taken him to get here and was feeling light headed. The horse, sensing weakness slowed to a trot and headed for the shade of a large tree by the river and stopped to drink and munch on the grass, still green and in the shade of the tree. Porthos slid off, landing on the grass with a bump and plunged his head into the cool water letting the current wash through his hair before coming up for air. He looked down at his hands, and not wanting to turn up so dirty, decided to take off his jacket and boots; checking the road was clear he removed his shirt and breeches and strode into the cold river, gasping as the sudden temperature change took his breath away. He quickly scrubbed himself clean, briefly lying submerged once more to cool his head and emerged, dripping but more awake and sat against the tree.
He dozed off having drunk the last of the wine the innkeeper had forced on him and eaten the bread and cheese, waking with a start at the sound of a horse galloping along the road. Pulling his breeches back on, and a clean shirt he sat to wait for the rider to approach, pulling his boots on as he did and keeping his weapons close by.
“Forgive me” the rider pulled to a halt, a middle aged man, comfortably off and with a self-important air. “I’m looking for Lady Caitlyn’s estate” Porthos stood and frowned, buckling his weapons around his waist and shoving his jacket into his saddle bag.
“Indeed?” he replied, fighting to keep his voice calm. “You’re in luck, I’m heading that way myself, if you can manage to keep up I will take you.”
The man looked startled but agreed with a quick dip of his head and a thank you.
They set off at a trot, needing to pace their horses and Porthos asked him why he was going to visit Lady Caitlyn.
“I hear there’s a woman about to give birth to twins, it is well known that these births are dangerous, so I am going to offer my assistance. I am a doctor.” He added with an important air, as he gestured to his bag. Porthos wasn’t reassured and kicked his horse into a canter, even more desperate to get to Norah – everyone knew if a doctor was summonsed to a childbirth, someone was going to die.
“Have you been sent for?” he asked barely keeping the tremor from his voice, his heartbeat racing.
“Well, no, but it’s only a matter of time I’m afraid, women aren’t meant to be subjected to this, it’s a punishment you know.”
Porthos ground his teeth. “Punishment for what exactly?” he growled, but the Doctor didn’t notice the change in his temper.
“Yes, twins only occur in woman of a...of a certain, aahh, disposition if you take my meaning.” He gave Porthos a look.
“Go on.”
“Yes, often they are afflicted with an unnaturally high appetite for…well…” He paused, embarrassed. Porthos looked steadily at the road ahead, the tree line ahead showing the road to Kate’s house.
“Yes?” Porthos already knew this man would be going no-where near Norah.
“Well, let’s just say there’s often more than one father involved and leave it at that!” He pursed his lips and nodded as Porthos looked at him incredulously and the man finally shut up. Taking a moment to look for the narrow gap in the hedge, Porthos slowed before squeezing his horse through, and kicked it into a gallop across the field, scattering sheep in a noisy bleating cloud as he went, faster and faster went his horse as he put distance between him and the so called doctor, who was trying in vain to keep up, closing the gap between him and Norah and a smile broke across his face as he let the horse jump the hedge on the far side of Kate’s garden, knowing exactly where he was going heading straight for the stable.
Barely waiting for the horse to stop he leapt off, shouting for some-one to take care of it and he sprinted into the house, grabbing the kitchen maid and demanding to know where Norah was, surprised, she pointed up the stairs and taking two at a time, he got to the landing, took a breath and opened the first door he got to.

FARKINELL NONNYDEPLUNE FARK. IN. ELL.

Oh, and sf yes well done very good.

Ooooooooooohhhh. Hello SF
Porthos in the river... hmmm.....

Excellent SF, nice bit of detail

“Porthos?” Kate’s voice, surprised came from behind him.
Where is she? He took hold of Kate’s shoulders, his eyes desperate now. Kate lowered her head and bit her lip, unsure whether Sister Térèse would let him in now Norah was so close... Porthos felt the blood leave his face and his heart beat painfully in his chest and he shook Kate,
“Where is she?” he bellowed, panic rising and he pushed past her turning to look down the stairs, seeing the doctor had arrived. “You stay away from her, you hear me?” he turned to Kate. He froze, hearing a long low groan from further along and his heart contracted with fear and excitement;
“This way.” Kate told him, then, to Madame Allais who had just appeared to see what the commotion was about; “Show the doctor into the library”
“I really think I should come to see the woman immediately, before you lose all of them.” He tried to take the stairs.
Another groan claimed all of their attention.
“You will stay right where you’ve been told” Came a voice from behind Porthos and Kate. Sister Térèse glared at the Doctor. “More women have died from men like you than I can count. Lock him up if you must” she called out to le Lancre, Kate’s steward, who had just appeared at the front door, also wondering what the noise was about. He glanced up at Kate who nodded and he nodded, ushering the good doctor into the library.
“You are?” The nun asked Porthos brusquely as she turned to go back to Norah.
“The father” Kate told her. Sister Térèse looked him up and down and sniffed. “Get changed and wash, you can see her then.
“I’ll see her now” Porthos growled angrily, pushing past then both and heading down to the open door
“You will not!” the Sister grabbed his arm with surprising strength and showed him his hands, dirty again. Kate sent for some water for Porthos to wash his hands with, the nun saying a quick prayer over it and making the sign of the cross before allowing him to wash, washing her own hands in a separate bowl.
“It seems to help if everyone washes in holy water” she said when he raised his eyebrows. He glanced at Kate, who shrugged and nodded, if Kate trusted her then he would too. Another long groan sent them all into the next room where Norah was hanging onto the post of the bed as if her life depended on it. Lady Beatrice and Comtesse were hovering a little way from her with bowls of fragrant water and cloths to wipe her face, clearly unused to being so intimately involved in a birth, uncomfortable but wanting to be there for Norah.
Norah looked round at him and burst into relieved tears and staggered to him, beaming and holding him tight until another contraction caused her knees to give way and she buried her face into his body, pain taking over again, obliterating everything else.
“She’s close now.” Sister Térèse murmured to him. “Will you wait downstairs?” He gave her a look and she smiled slightly and held up her hands. “I’m only asking, most men are nuisances truth be told” she gave him an appraising look. “Still, you might be useful, you look strong enough. Bring her over to the stool. You realise if that…that doctor” the word was spat out contemptuously “tries to get in here you’ll have to get rid of him?”
Porthos nodded in understanding. “Tell me what to do” Norah clung onto him as he guided her to the v shaped stool.
“Good. Stay behind her and hold her up. We’ll need her upright if we going to have a chance of getting the second one out safely. And take that shirt off, it’s dusty.” Porthos ripped it over his head, tossing it carelessly into the corner.
Comtesse and Bea glanced at each other, appreciating the view, and grinned, catching Kate’s eye who, although exasperated and worried couldn’t help smirking with them.
Going behind her Norah, putting his arms under her arms he reached round and held her against him. Seeing his frightened face as another contraction took over Norah’s body, Sister Térèse smiled reassuringly at him, nodding in approval.
“You two, crush more lavender.” The nun took out her oils and crouched in front of Norah. “Kate, she can have that belladonna now.” She paused applying the oils then washed her hands again, before holding them out. Everyone joined hands and Sister Térèse sent a quick prayer to St Mary, a moment of peace and calm descending as Norah leaned her head back onto Porthos’ chest and seemed to doze as he dropped kisses onto the top of her head and murmured into her ear.

“He really is lovely” Eliza sighed, leaning back on the chaise in her room in the palace. It wasn’t particularly splendid and was on the least favoured side of the building but even Eliza was content with it, despite it being smaller than the one she’d grown up in at home. Jeanne was relieved to see she was so happy and had laughed and nodded eagerly as Eliza had told her about how Henry had managed to sneak a kiss when Treville had gone to find Aramis and the other two had taken particular interest in the fountain just little way from them.
Jeanne had blushed when Treville had found them walking back from the trees but Aramis had waved it all off breezily – used to being caught in these circumstances and grinned nonchalantly back at his captain.
As soon as Eliza had been presented to the King and Queen, Jeanne would be escorted home to her parents. She was nervous at telling them her news, even thought she was desperate to see them all again now they were so close.
Once again the Wardrobe Mistress had been sent for, and had replicated her tutting and frowning at the task she’d have in making Jeanne look semi fashionable, yet gushed over the petite Eliza, claiming her to be the perfect model for the latest fashion and that her future husband was indeed a lucky man. Jeanne bit the inside of her cheek so much it was now sore but had got through the insults and jibes and was on the other side now.
Eliza looked in the mirror and smiled.
“When are you going to see your parents?” She asked.
“When you say I’m dismissed.” Jeanne smiled. Eliza smiled back and nodded and fanned herself.
“Is it always this hot here?”
“No my Lady.” Jeanne smiled. “This is unusual for Paris, I expect it will be cooler again when we start travelling.”
“I do hope so. Aren’t you going to see them then?” She grinned at Jeanne, who smiled back and curtsied.
“When would you like me back?”
“Ohh, well. We have a fitting for our wedding dresses just after noon. I can manage until then with the palace maid.” Eliza laughed.
Jeanne beamed at Eliza and took her hands, thanking her before leaving the room and going to find someone to escort her back. She had been told in no uncertain terms that she was not to go anywhere outside the Palace without an escort anymore so partly feeling like she wanted to get her own back on Treville, who had had to deliver this news to her, Jeanne went to find Aramis.

“Are you happy to be home?” Aramis broke through her train of thought as he escorted her through the streets of Paris to her house, dusty and hot as the sun beat down mercilessly on its inhabitants. Jeanne was glad of the parasol Eliza had begged her to take (and use). Aramis enjoyed the heat of it on his face and frequently turned his face up to meet it, closing his eyes in bliss.
“Of course.” She smiled.
“Will you miss me when you’re in all those exciting places? I hear you will be going to Venice for the honeymoon.” Jeanne shrugged and smiled and he nodded, taking her hand. “It’s been a long time since we were alone.” He kissed her knuckles, the glint in his eyes causing her stomach to lurch.
But she rolled her eyes, biting her lower lip and focused on the street ahead.
“Not even one last time before you go?” he teased, his tone light and his eyes dancing but feeling anything but light and happy at the prospect. He’d grown fond of her.
She looked steadily at him, then pulled him down an alleyway, a shortcut to the bakery but too narrow for carts and so mainly used to store things by the shops on either side.
Surprised, he allowed himself to be pushed against the wall behind some sacks and barrels and responded equally as hungry as Jeanne kissed him and they felt themselves give in to their lust as their lips and tongues clashed together, fighting to see who would win. No longer hearing the sounds of everyday life on the busy street, he grabbed the back of her head, the other hand round her waist and pulled her against him, so she could feel his cock as it hardened. She slid her hands up his shirt and was teasing him, squeezing and scraping gently and he felt his knees buckle as she played with his chest and reached down to cup him gently whilst she kissed his mouth and his neck and he smiled a little, which made her pull back and frown.
“You’ve changed...” He teased, moving a stray bit of hair to blow gently on her neck and smiling at her. Squirming at the sensation, she blushed and looked embarrassed “…I like it,” he muttered into her ear, lips and teeth teasing her just below the lobe and she bit her lip, barely managing to stifle the moan.
She smirked back at him, her own breathing heavy as his, his smile faded as he gazed at her and he swallowed as she kissed down his neck, pulling his shirt aside, both frustrated that it couldn’t be removed, but Jeanne kissed and swirled her tongue down as far as she could, her hands everywhere. He leant his head back against the wall as she undid his breeches and sank down, licking and stroking him, but too briefly as she kissed her way back up again.
Frustrated but turned on, he spun them both round so that now she was against the wall and kissed his own way down, he too was frustrated at the clothing that restricted him, but he sank to his knees and kissed his way up her legs until he reached her clit and started slowly swirling and licking, making her knees buckle so that the only thing holding her up was his hands pushing her against the wall and her leg wedged over his shoulder.
Satisfied she was as desperate now as he was, he stood and as he did he slid his body up against her, his hand under her buttock as her raised her leg and thrust his cock inside her.
Not for the first time he was glad she was tall and he told her she was perfect for him as he thrust against her causing her to moan slightly.
With his other hand on her hip, holding up her skirts, he steadied her as he kissed her neck and worked his way round to her mouth again, each thrust pushing them both on. She grabbed hold of the hair on the back of his head and gripped him with her leg, bringing him in as deep as she could, meeting his thrusts, trailing a hand round to his arse and squeezing it hard before sliding between them to cup and stroke his balls again.
He grunted in her ear and blushed, unaccustomed to losing that much control over himself as she brought him closer to orgasm; but she laughed a little and bit his lower lip as his own fingers worked their way down and had somehow freed a breast from her corset. Even in the midst of her lust Jeanne rolled her eyes at how he had managed that and he caught her look and smirked a little, unapologetic. Not breaking his rhythmic fucking he bent his head to kiss and suck and swirl his tongue round her nipple and she gasped, her muscles tightening around his cock as a wave of lust swept through her and they gave up touching each other as they fucked, hard and fast, holding on to each other for support as wave after wave of desire pushed them over the edge.
Trembling at the knees, Aramis did up his breeches and laughed a little.
“You must promise to send for me whenever you’re in Paris” He surprised himself as he spoke.
She smiled as she rearranged her corset and straightened her skirts
“Or even a day’s ride from Paris.” He added, kissing her gently and stoking her cheek with his thumb.
She laughed. Holding out her hand she led him on down the alley way to the bakery, pausing at the well so they could cool down and freshen up before meeting her family again.

Jeeeeesus. I kept having to read the best lines over again

SF that was ooooooooffffffftttttttttt amazing.

Absolutely loving the detail in the Porthos story SF.

And absobliminglutely loving everything about the Aramis story! Going to the bakery in future is going to make me and

Very rude. I approve.

I want someone to tell me I'm perfect

Am very behind so taking the Lit in order, and in brief:

NonnydePlume reads porn to Team A:

Ooh nonny, very nicely done . Good to see Porthos redeeming himself, and he didn't even need the honey. Loved the reference back to their previous 'conversation' in the alleyway

Ooh sf, I'd enjoy the English weather a lot more if I had a Musketeer to lick raindrops off me. The begging was also hot. Very hot

Loved that first section of the Porthos journey chapter, the descriptions of the weariness and then the refreshing dip were very vivid - I could picture every last bit of it.

Oofft - that Jeanne's a filthy mare isn't she? Enticing a musketeer down a deserted alleyway and having her wicked (nto) way with him . I think my knees are trembling now too....

the nun had a dr le May boiling his instruments moment with the holy water there...
Yikes poor Norah...
at norty pervs looking at Porthos at such a time

And

I want a musketeer to take me up the alleyway.

get on with the honey scene please nonny
< quivers with anticipation >

Jeanne’s parents had been told that Jeanne was safely back in Paris when she had first arrived, and Jeanne had sent them a quick note telling them that she was happy and well and that she hoped to be allowed to visit them soon. However she had had to surprise them, not having time to send a message to them that she was on her way.
So when they reached the bakery, Jeanne and Aramis were quickly ushered into the house and with a quick apology, told to settle themselves whilst the argument with the miller was sorted and the large bags of flour he supplied were safely stored away.
Sitting in front of the stove in the kitchen, Jeanne felt strange. She had been looking forward to being home with its familiar sounds and smells and yet it no longer felt like home. Apologising to Aramis, she walked around the house, feeling the familiar walls and floors seeing the familiar pictures and ornaments as well as the scrapes and bangs but she felt like a visitor. Going to her bedroom with the large bed that she usually shared with Luc and Isabelle felt odd, like she was intruding. Even sitting on the bed looking out the tiny window at the familiar view of the massive old tree made her sad and filled with the sense that she had lost something, that she had no home anymore.
Aramis remained downstairs and stood just outside the open door, hat in hand and the sun on his face, watching the men shift the large sacks into the storeroom across the small yard from where he was. His heart went out to Jeanne, knowing what she was feeling but left her to it, this was something she’d have to deal with for herself, although, his cock hardened thinking about how he might comfort her later given half the chance.
“Is she alright?” Jeanne’s mother asked as she and the children approached, worry in her eyes. “Feeling a bit lost I expect.” Aramis nodded, smiling at the twins.
“Yes, Madame...” she stopped him
“Ugh, please call me Eliza.”
He raised his eyebrows but smiled, and nodded politely. The older woman sighed and nodded, pouring herself a small amount of wine, which she watered down and offered him the bottle.
He took it with thanks and watered it down slightly less than she did which she noted with amusement but bade him sit at the table with her. Despite the heat of the day, Aramis did so, removing his jacket and hanging it on the back of the chair he sat at. Isabell and Luc ran out to see Jeanne, chattering excitedly and making a lot of banging sounds as they went.

“So, how is she really?”
Aramis took a deep breath and told her most of the truth. That she had adjusted quickly to travelling, (leaving out the attack back in England) and that she hadn’t even got seasick. Jeanne’s mother laughed at that.
"Takes after me then. Her father has terrible sea-legs." She grinned, but unfamiliar with the term, Aramis looked questioningly at Madame Eliza.
"He gets very sick very quickly" She explained
"Ah." He grinned ruefully, brushing his hand though his hair and they both laughed.
"Go on,"
He told her she who had quickly adapted to court life and had managed to fit in well and then he paused, not knowing whether they already knew about the new position offered to Jeanne.
Her mother nodded, sadness creeping in as well as pride.
“And the Lady Isabelle?” He told her she seemed well and had taken to Jeanne immediately and described their fond meeting and farewell, which made Madame Eliza's eyes fill with tears.
“She seemed sad to have lost her daughter, happy to have met Jeanne, was very pleased for Lady Eliza to have Jeanne as her companion.” He smiled at Madame Eliza who smiled and nodded back.
“Yes, of all the things I lost, her friendship was the hardest.” Aramis frowned and leant forward,
“Madame...Eliza, I don’t think you lost a friend. Not really, I believe she thinks of you often”
She took Aramis’ hand and gave it a squeeze. “Thank you Aramis, you’re kind. But thoughts are not the same as talking and laughing or even crying with someone are they?” She tilted her head, and he saw understanding and smiled sadly.
“No, indeed not.”
“Jeanne!” her mother cried as she got up suddenly to go to her daughter and embrace her, kissing her head and face. “Look at you! You’ve changed so much!” Jeanne was alarmed to see tears on her mother’s face as she hugged her hard, then pushed her away still holding her hands to look at her, then pulled back in for another hug.
“Yes” Jeanne agreed simply, swallowing nervously. Aramis smiled back sympathetically then stood as Jeanne’s father entered the kitchen, seemingly recovered from his illness and Jeanne cried out with joy at seeing him look so well before hugging him tight as well.
It took several minutes for them all to stop looking at each other, hugging and laughing (although there was sadness there too Aramis saw) before they all sat at the table and Jeanne told them about the position she had been offered with Lady Eliza, leaving out the part where she would be helping Buckingham and the French ambassador.
Aramis sat back and watched, quiet and still, drinking his wine, thinking.

Excellent bit of plot there SF. I can imagine Aramis taking off his jacket and putting it over the back of the chair.

I think it's very impressive all the detail you tavlit writers put into your writing. None of it's boring and I never feel the need to skip anything.

Despite the sweltering heat outside, inside the church where Eliza and Henri were married was blissfully cool, so all the guests were for once grateful for the long service.
When it was all finished, Jeanne and Aramis walked out of the church together, behind the bride and groom and the other, more important guests. There was to be a wedding feast tonight, and they would be leaving the next day.
“Will you walk with me?” He asked in a husky voice right by her ear, circling a lazy thumb on the inside of her arm, causing Jeanne to shiver. She nodded, slid her arm though his and they walked a little way back from the main wedding party.
“Come on, they won’t notice you’re not there for a few minutes.” She allowed him to pull her back into the now empty church, and into a confessional booth. Sliding the curtains across he pulled her to him and kissed her, pausing to pull off a glove and handing it to Jeanne.
“May I?” He breathed into her ear, before sliding his hand up her dress skirt and not wasting anytime, slid couple of fingers over her clit. Jeanne pushed her hips against him at the sudden desire he sparked again and nodded - heart pounding again.
Kneeling, Aramis pushed her down onto the stool before he kissed up her thighs, licking her as he went until he reached the top, where he licked and swirled and sucked, plunging his tongue inside her. Jeanne bit down on the glove hard as wave after wave of intense pleasure ran through her and she unconsciously grabbed two fistfuls of hair, causing him to wince. Over and over his tongue and lips sucked and licked and swirled and his fingers fucked her, competing with his tongue for both her clit and her cunt.
He stood, breath ragged, eyes wide and glittering and his beard wet and they stared at each other as they tried to catch their breath. His cock strained against his breeches and Jeanne reached for it.
“Aramis?” Came Athos’ voice, making them both jump. Aramis looked at the floor and sighed, then looked up at Jeanne who was still biting his glove, this time to stop her laughter.
“Yes?” he answered stepping out into the main church and approached him. Athos gave him a look that made him blush and shrug, grinning sheepishly.
“It’s time for the feast, Jeanne is needed. No.” He put a hand on Aramis to stop him. “You stay with me now.”
Aramis glanced towards where Jeanne was still hiding, trying to stifle her giggles with his glove but nodded, grinning before following Athos out.
Jeanne sat back, thinking... wondering when she would be able to give him his glove back.

SF -