"Because talk of a home and children were not enough," muses Aramis, "And your shorn head. I believe we have managed enough upheaval in the time you spent as a youth," he tells Athos with a smile.

He drags his fingers through Athos' hair, moving easily on to skim Porthos' scalp before he lets his hand fall. "Porthos and I ate chocolates off one another," he offers suddenly. "But I imagine that is to be expected."