A Powerful Little Love

Epilogue 2

When my arms wrap you round I press

My heart upon the loveliness

That has long faded from the world;

The jewelled crows that kings have hurled

In shadowy pools, when armies fled;

The love-tales wrought with silken thread

By dreaming ladies upon cloth

That has made fat the murderous moth;

The roses that of old time were

Woven by ladies in their hair,

The dew-cold lilies ladies bore

Through many a sacred corridor

Where such grey clouds of incense rose

That only God's eyes did not close:

For that pale breast and lingering hand

Came from a more dream-heavy land,

A more dream-heavy hour than this;

And when you sigh from kiss to kiss

I hear white beauty sighing, too,

For hours when all must fade like dew,

But flame over throne where in half sleep,

Their swords upon their iron knees,

Brood her high lonely mysteries.

W. B. Yeats - He Remembers Forgotten Beauty

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The house was made for parties and enjoyment.  The halls should have been filled with the joyous laughter and companionship that had so alluded Amorette's mother in her lifetime.  It was finally fulfilling its purpose.  Christmas in the country had always been a kind of dream of Amorette's, with everyone together again around the same table but she never had thought she would see the day when it truly would happen.

Tilda and her husband Léo had refused to let Amorette do anything apart from sit in a chair and tear strips of painted paper apart to make decorations and had taken most of the decoration work upon themselves.  There were a few furniture movements of course that needed the strength of two men and for that Athos was only too happy to help when he finally arrived from Paris.  They had only been apart for four days, but Amorette was beginning to feel those absences more keenly than ever.  She did not think there would be any more lengthy excursions for her without Athos, as she couldn't bear them anymore. 

When he came, he was not alone.  It was odd to see them both out on the lawn in front of the house shooting because Amorette was almost sure Aramis had not handled a gun of any kind in a good few years now.  He had not lost any of his skill though.  About a week later, everyone else began to arrive.  There was Porthos and Alice, D'artagnan and Constance, Claude's niece Georgitte with her husband and son, and Sacha and his daughter.  Amorette had always thought her home rather big, but she had to admit that when they were all arrived and settled she did have the strangest notion of being extremely crowded. 

The next few days were a flurry of activity and general mayhem as everyone ate when they wanted and congregated in small groups of conversation in odd places like on the stairs or around a window.  Amorette had been adamant though that she was not up for cooking for such a large group every night and would only prepare such a feast on Christmas day.  So it was that she began to cook early on the afternoon of Christmas day, ignoring Athos' pleas for her to take a break every so often.  She ignored him, breathing in the smell of the yule log that he had brought into the house the night before and sprinkled a little red wine over.  The smell had filled the house within a few hours and that would continue, as was tradition until New Year's Day.