In the Pursuit of
By: MusketeerAdventure
Summary: This chapter takes place during the season 2 episode, Keep Your Friends Closer. Milady and Richelieu are no longer a threat; and Rochefort has been introduced. d'Artagnan feels stifled by Athos' overprotectiveness and searches for a way to regain his independence.
Chapter 1: The Search for Independence
Events spiraled out of control at a rapid pace; a hanging interrupted; a contact revealed and then fighting ensued – all it seemed in the blink of an eye.
Suddenly, there was Rochefort atop his mount, holding out his weapon – smoke curling from the muzzle – now turning and riding away toward the woods; after shooting an innocent man in the heart, as if it meant nothing.
At first Athos had it in mind to have d'Artagnan stay with these men and women; assist them with gathering the injured; their fallen leader; and then help them back to the village – whereby he, Aramis and Porthos would pursue Rochefort.
But things were moving too fast. d'Artagnan was moving too fast; his opportunity to give orders slipping away.
In that moment d'Artagnan had already leapt upon his horse – sat astride him – and was ready to ride after the fugitive. Aramis and Porthos had not yet reached their mounts; as they skittered away among the melee. Athos knew he had to restrain d'Artagnan immediately, if he were to stop him from pursuing alone.
As his own horse had just been absconded, he stood among the chaos and watched the events unfold around him, in what seemed like slow motion; a man down, villagers screaming – the shock of unexpected death etched on their faces; d'Artagnan leaning over the neck of his horse.
And just as d'Artagnan put his heels to flank – everything snapped back into real time. Athos tore his gaze from the fallen leader and the stricken villagers and acted quickly.
He ran swiftly toward d'Artagnan and his mount; reached up for the reins and held fast – causing the horse to spin in circles; kicking up clumps of grass and mud; and d'Artagnan straining with concentration to keep the horse on its feet.
Athos held on tight – his heels digging into the soft earth – determined to keep rider and horse contained ; ignoring the horses' reaction of pinned back ears; splayed teeth and stomping hooves.
d'Artagnan squinted his eyes and with effort reined the horse in – deftly keeping his seat; and preventing Athos from being kicked at the same time – the effort of it – worked at every muscle he had.
"What are you doing?" he forced out through gritted teeth; his legs burning from holding his horse in check.
Athos pet the mount's neck, shushing, and stroking – not letting go - until he began to settle down and pranced in place.
Athos grabbed for d'Artagnan's leg then and squeezed hard; to help settle him down also. He felt under his hand tension and trembling, and knew the effort it must have taken to keep the horse from bolting.
When he looked up into d'Artagnan's face, he knew what he would see; and there it was – indignation. He stared back at him hard and with authority said, "We go together."
He reached up his hand and commanded, "Help me up."
d'Artagnan was incredulous; but had no words in this moment to describe just how angry he was; so he just reached down and with little effort, helped Athos to swing up to sit at his back. Before he could nudge his horse forward to take pursuit – he heard Athos call in his ear, "We wait for the others."
Impatience curdled in d'Artagnan's stomach – but he held still and reined in his horse to do the same; leaning over his neck to whisper for him to stay. He could feel Athos hand on his back – as if encouraging him to stay put as well.
Once Aramis and Porthos gathered their horses; and mounted up – they were on their way – following in the direction Rochefort had been headed.
When they hit the tree line that led into the woods – Porthos held up his hand and called everyone to a halt. He dismounted and walked some distance – studying the ground intently – with the others following behind on horseback.
After a while, he knelt down and pointed to a spot on the ground, "He's entered here", he shouted out – standing then and gesturing over a thin trail leading into the woods.
"How do you know?" d'Artagnan countered; impressed with Pothos' skill and confidence.
"Athos has placed a mark of two lines on the shoe – this is him."
Porthos mounted up and joined his brothers in a circle. "I say we continue in down a little further up – walk in slow – swing in and meet him on the path. He won't expect us to come from the other direction."
Aramis nodded with agreement, "He won't be able to ride through here very fast – we should be able to catch up."
Athos nodded his assent, and they entered the woods to find Rochefort.
As they walked at a steady pace – keeping an ear out for their quarry - d'Artagnan for the hundredth time over the past several months, wondered on Athos' attitude toward him.
Ever since he had spared Milady; and sent her away – Athos had become over protective to the point of oppressive. He could not fathom it- the weight of it threatened to crush him.
With Athos seated at his back, the trail opening up before them and the nature of the woods echoing from tree to tree; d'Artagnan pondered on how their relationship had shifted from musketeer to musketeer on equal footing – back to student and teacher. He thought back over recent events and tried to find a clue as to what might have changed.
On a mission some months ago, that entailed delivering a missive – Athos had refused to let him out of his sight – directed his every move – and insisted on knowing his whereabouts at every turn. The expectation seemed unrealistic and unwarranted to him, and left him feeling caged. He questioned Athos then – "How was he to function – if he had no free will?" He got no proper answer, except to hear that soldiers followed orders.
The mission after that – he was not asked to accompany them. The assignment had been to gather intelligence among local village residents near the outskirts of Spain; who were plotting to bring their discontent to Paris in the form of an assassination attempt on the King.
He had confronted Athos then – but got no real reason for his exclusion – only to say he was not needed. d'Artagnan had seethed – gone to Treville – who could not or would not shed any further light on why he had been left out.
And just recently – they had been on assignment to find and bring in a group of bandits who had been terrorizing the countryside on the outskirts of Paris – stealing tax collection from outlying estates and robbing taverns along the way.
When they had found the bandits – all hell had broken loose; musket fire had erupted; they had been outnumbered and trapped – ambushed- and defenseless with only a few outcropping of trees for cover. Athos had not left his side – stood with him, and then without warning, pushed him to the ground when he had run out of balls for his musket.
With the wind knocked out of him; and things moving so swiftly; before he understood what was happening – Athos had placed his knee in the small of his back; holding him down – pinning him to the earth.
He would not let him up. d'Artagnan fought to stand – but did not know Athos had such strength. He just continued to fire and reloaded over top of him; with his knee pressed firmly in his back, until the battle had ceased; and a rescue regiment of musketeers had come in time to assist.
He remembered standing before Athos after the incident; scrambling to his feet – death and dust all around – Aramis and Porthos watching them both with unease – screaming; yelling and demanding from his friend why he would risk his life to stand over him – when he could have let him stand at his side – unsheathe his sword and engage by moving to attack.
Aramis and Porthos had to then restrain him and pull him away – as his temper rushed out like lava – and the fear at Athos' actions overwhelmed him.
He remembered Athos never said a word; only reached for his tunic – pulled him from the restraining arms of his friends and brought him close – pushing his hair aside; and wiping away blood plastered to the side of his face, from a graze to his scalp – he had not even felt.
All argument had left him then. What could he say in the face of such tenderness?
He loved the man as well; but could not abide this suffocation much longer.
So today, he had been surprised that he was even here for this assignment. He supposed Athos thought it simple enough – benign; that nothing could possibly happen – when all this assignment entailed was to meet a contact and escort him back to Paris.
But it had turned into something different. Now they found themselves tracking down Richelieu's spy – who claimed he had vital information for the King's ear only.
The day had started out well enough – even good natured. The weather was cool; the sun shining and a slight breeze brushed by, lifting their hair, and their spirits. It had been good to banter and talk with his friends without feeling the strain of the past few months between he and Athos filter into the conversation. But it was happening all over again – and the pressure of Athos' worry over him was like a heavy blanket.
So, he spoke up as they rode along the trail – sure to keep his voice low, "I could have caught up with him by now, if you had let me go", he pointed out with certainty.
Athos sat stiffly at his back and countered briskly, "We stay together", his tone indicating to d'Artagnan to say no more on the subject. So he sighed and let it go for now – determined to find another time to confront Athos – before he exploded.
When they met Rochefort on the path, as Porthos had predicted – forced his surrender; tied his hands and made him to walk back out of the woods between them - d'Artagnan's thoughts wandered to other concerns.
He thought of the poor man who today had lost his life; by way of a senseless act from the man they now would escort back, to have audience with the King.
After some time, d'Artagnan considered how he could assert some independence; be of assistance, and took a chance. He moved his horse forward to walk next to Athos – who seemed determined not to speak, after having rounded on Rochefort and felling him with one punch; his short lived humor gone – now replaced with a vigilance to get back to Paris as soon as possible.
"I wish to ride to the village Athos, to extend the help of the musketeers with burial expenses and explanation to his family as to what happened."
Athos thought on this and looked fondly at his friend; and marveled, as he had on many occasions, what a good man d'Artagnan was; how he never hesitated to extend himself to help others in need; and how he took the notion of honor as seriously as he did. Truly, he would be the best of them.
This then, only made him more resolved to watch over him closely; and keep him out of harm's way for as long as he could. His own brother had been taken from him prematurely and Anne had almost completed her revenge against him with d'Artagnan as her centerpiece. He would remain cautious where d'Artagnan was concerned; but could not deny this request.
So he nodded his assent, but before d'Artagnan could leave his side, added, "Aramis will go with you; and we will meet you on the road in two hours. We ride into Paris together."
d'Artagnan frowned and opened his mouth to protest – surely he could do this alone and meet them back in Paris in due time – but Aramis pushed forward and nudged his horse close – giving him a glance of warning. So, d'Artagnan pursed his lips and held his tongue – holding his argument in check.
Just as they were about to surge forward; and head to the village – Athos repeated, "Two hours."
Aramis studied his friend closely and saw anxiety – looked to d'Artagnan and saw frustration and answered, "Yes, Athos – he's with me. We'll see you soon" and they galloped away, leaving their two companions to continue on the road to Paris with Rochefort in tow.
Two hours later, as d'Artagnan and Aramis left the small village behind – leaving in their wake the grief of a wife; now widowed, with two small red haired boys - d'Artagnan could not help but feel weighted down. Her husband – the magistrate had left to administer the law and had come back dead. She had been inconsolable. The tavern owner's family – equally distraught and beside themselves with anguish.
"Rochefort has left behind two dead here", he said solemnly – glad now that Athos had insisted Aramis accompany him here. His faith and words of solace had gone a long way in tempering the anger in the village; and helping the families to ready for burial.
It made him think on what kind of man Rochefort was; what more could he be capable of; did the musketeers dare trust him. He had left behind here such pain.
"I could never get used to being in the presence of such sorrow", he confided in Aramis as they rode side by side – remembering the wrenching heartbreak of two widows; and the disbelief of the whole community.
"God will not abandon these people d'Artagnan. He will not leave them orphans, but will come to them in their storm and bring them comfort; and perhaps joy again, instead of sorrow. It will take time; but they will heal, by God's grace."
"And Rochefort?" he asked.
"Will receive his judgement in turn – mark my words."
d'Artagnan fell silent, and as they rode along quietly – his mind fell again on Athos' curious disposition toward him and he could feel his hackles rising as they made their way back to the road to meet the others.
Aramis could feel the change and inquired, "What else is it that has got you so unsettled?"
d'Artagnan looked to his friend with open disbelief, "Don't tell me you haven't noticed."
Aramis thought to himself – yes, he had noticed. Athos' protectiveness toward d'Artagnan seemed to have reached new heights; and he could see it was wearing the young man down – and that soon this would become a rift - perhaps one Athos could not see.
d'Artagnan took Aramis' silence as his opportunity to vent, "What is it that has changed? I thought he had finally begun to trust me; see me as an equal! Am I not a musketeer as you and Porthos? Am I not his brother also?"
Aramis raised an eyebrow – and smiled inwardly – more than brother, he thought – but aloud answered, "I believe he is afraid d'Artagnan."
d'Artagnan sat straighter in his saddle; and threw an outraged look in his direction, "Athos is afraid of nothing. What is there to be afraid of?"
Aramis raised his hands in deference, "Afraid something may happen to you while in his charge. You are a musketeer, yes – with more still to learn. He has lost much – and I think he wishes he could have done more by his own brother."
d'Artagnan questioned, "You mean Thomas."
Aramis nodded and frowned with consternation, "Give him time d'Artagnan – I think with time and your understanding, you can weather this."
d'Artagnan bowed his head and nodded, "I am a musketeer Aramis and must be allowed to be one; but I hear you and will try to do as you say."
And so they rode along and eventually met up with Athos and Porthos, waiting by the road with Rochefort complaining of having to walk, and that if the Cardinal were still alive, there would be consequences for his poor treatment.
Athos ignored his incessant chatter; his whining voice that grated on his nerves; mounted his horse and moved to meet his fellow musketeers. Before a greeting could be made, Athos sounded, with a tinge of worry in his voice, "You are late", and rode past them to continue with the journey.
d'Artagnan scowled – Aramis sighed – Porthos looked perplexed and Rochefort only complained the more; but saw in these four what he hated most – musketeer loyalty – and vowed to destroy it.
Aramis lowered his gaze and shook his head; any temperance he had encouraged from d'Artagnan was now lost; as they rode now in silence – eager to make it home.
d'Artagnan rode ahead into the garrison yard aggravated beyond his limits of tolerance.
He rode his horse straight to the stables, bypassing Jaques' outstretched hands. When he slid from his horse- he looked out from the wide open frame and watched as the others walked at a slow pace, pulling the Comte de Rochefort along with them.
Some part of him knew he was being unprofessional; perhaps childish even – but he couldn't help it. He had thought he could follow Aramis' advice, and give time and patience – but Athos had just blown that out of the water.
He put his hands on his hips and forced himself to count to ten – close his eyes – breathe deeply and then count again.
At that moment Jaques entered the stables with the three horses and moved to take his.
"I'll take him", he told the surprised youth, who willingly let him keep the reins and began to pull the other horses to their stalls to ready them for grooming.
d'Artagnan moved to walk his horse to his stall when he heard Athos clear his throat behind him. He stopped and turned toward his mentor – his shoulders taunt with stiffness.
Athos noticed his carriage, but chose to disregard the message it sent, "We go to bring Rochefot to the Captain", he informed.
d'Artagnan let out a breath, and looked to the ground; lest Athos see the fire in his eyes, "You go ahead. I'm going to give Jaques a hand here. I'll join you shortly."
Athos stood for a moment, wanting to press the issue – but decided against it. He knew d'Artagnan was angry with him and could feel the wave of frustration cascading toward him – but he couldn't help it. He had chosen a path with d'Artagnan and was finding it hard to change course. And at this moment did not feel the need to explain his actions – he was the Lieutenant.
So, he nodded his assent, "Don't be too long", and headed out of the stables.
d'Artagnan stood and watched Athos leave out and join the others. After a moment he turned and addressed his horse; whose reins he held tight, and repeated crossly – "Do not be too long d'Artagnan" – and pulled him into the stall; lifting the saddle from his back – setting it aside.
"Do not go too far d'Artagnan" – he grabbed for the cloth to wipe him down; swiping vigorously at the sweat and dirt – then lifting each hoof to check for stones.
He then grabbed for the brush, "Stay close d'Artagnan" – and stroked the brush up and down his flank forcefully – leaving behind bright, glossy hair.
When he finished, he reached for his trusted friend's ears and rubbed behind them, just the way he liked – leaned in and whispered in his ear – "When will he let me go?" His mount nodded and pressed his nose into his chest, causing d'Artagnan to laugh and therefore, lifted his spirits.
When he finally made his way to join the others in Treville's office – he leaned against the far wall and caught the end of the conversation.
General de Foix was being held captive in the same Spanish prison as was Rochefort. Rescue was now the objective. As the sole architect of France's military strategy against Spain – the priority must be to retrieve him.
Rochefort was to speak with the King.
As plans were made – orders given – the outline of the castle prison scrutinized - d'Artagnan's thoughts fell on how he could once again prove his worth; find a way to show his friend that he was a musketeer capable of carrying out his duty; of being part of the team and contributing in some way.
On the road to the prison, dressed out of uniform as a disguise, d'Artagnan went over and over the lay out of the prison in his mind; having memorized the ins and outs; and taking heed to the directive that although rescue was the mission – General de Foix was not to live to pass on the secrets of France's military strategy.
His companions and Rochefort, rode along silently – with little conversation – all thinking of what lay ahead, and the great risks they were taking.
That night, as they sat around the fire listening to Rochefot talk about what torture the Spanish had visited upon him – showing his burnt flesh and speaking of how pain eats at the soul - d'Artagnan was struck by how vacant the man seemed and vowed he would not become like this – a man devoid of feeling and emotion – who was able to take life so callously without warning, as he had at the village.
His mind then fell on those two fatherless children; and considered the danger in trusting this man with the affairs of France.
When Rochefot left their company from around the blaze – Aramis followed him with his eyes – "He has been through much; suffered greatly, and it has twisted him in some way."
Porthos looked across at him and spoke with disdain in his voice, "I wouldn't trust him as far as I could throw him. Any man who questions my courage and loyalty is not to be depended on."
d'Artagnan nodded, "I agree. There is something about the way he talks that puts me on edge. I don't get a good feeling about him."
Athos looked to his brothers, "Then all the more reason tomorrow to stay close."
d'Artagnan stared hard at his friend across the flames, and sighed deeply – letting his discontent flow out of him, so it would not fester within.
Aramis and Porthos looked to each other knowingly, and discreetly lay down, and turned their backs to the warmth; effectively sending the message that the two should talk. Aramis pulled his blanket around his shoulders, and spoke evenly, "That is our cue to say goodnight."
d'Artagnan picked up a wayward stick outside the flames; pushed on the burning limbs and watched as the embers floated above the kindling and then settled back down into the heat. He thought on how he could take advantage of this moment and how he should word things carefully. But when he looked across at his brother, he decided to just say what he felt with no preamble.
"Ever since you sent Milady away, you have held me too close."
Athos gazed into the flames and resolved to hear what d'Artagnan had to say. It was not unknown to him the resentment he felt over his need to see no harm come to him.
d'Artagnan continued, "Am I not a musketeer with the same commitment to duty as everyone else?"
Athos chose not to comment. d'Artagnan was a fine musketeer – and when he looked across the flames and caught his eye; conveyed as much.
d'Artagnan let loose his breath; and smiled, "Then if that is what you think; that I am a good musketeer – worthy of the pauldron, then you must let me go Athos – give me room to show my worth."
He leaned forward then, an earnest countenance to his face, "Nothing will happen to me. I promise."
Athos spoke then softly, as if speaking to himself, "So, you promise do you?" unnerved by such a pronouncement; thinking on his own pledge to himself to try and keep d'Artagnan safe.
"I am resourceful." d'Artagnan proclaimed looking up to the night sky as if looking there would bring words to his argument.
Athos nodded once in agreement.
"As you know, I think quickly on my feet; have been known to wield a pretty fair sword – and am a good shot. " He smiled cheekily at his friend, "I am a damn good soldier Athos and have been taught by the best."
Athos could not help but chuckle; and replied, "This is true."
With no more words coming to him, and with Athos lack of response irritating him to no end, d'Artagnan stood, exasperated and looked down at his friend – who sat and looked into the flames as if mesmerized. "Get some rest d'Artagnan, we ride out early tomorrow."
d'Artagnan walked toward his blanket and flung himself to the ground; taking respite with the stars – feeling exhausted by his brief attempt to get Athos to see his point and to listen. Well, he knew Athos had listened, but hoped he had heard him also. He needed to be seen as an equal – to have some modicum of independence – to contribute in some way.
He laid his head back; threw his arm over his face; covered his eyes, and willed himself to relax and go to sleep. Perhaps tomorrow he would get his opportunity.
After a time, Porthos rolled over, sat up and faced his friend. He was not one to interfere, but loved these men greatly. "If you don't loosen your grip Athos – he will break free; and who knows which way he will go. Is that what you want?"
Athos looked up then, his eyes sad and almost resigned, "What I want is for him to survive this mission and the next."
Porthos laughed softly, and bowed his head, "He is a soldier my friend – this is our way. You can't protect him from battle; and he can't live his life on your fears."
Athos nodded, and quirked a slight smile, "You are wise Porthos. Thank you."
Porthos gripped his chest in mock surprise; and lay back down to sleep. The morning would be on them soon and the way things stood, they would all need as much rest as they could muster.
The next day as the musketeers and Rochefort made their way closer and closer to the prison – Athos looked over to his young friend; remembered his words to him and heard the truth in them.
d'Artagnan was a good soldier – a good man – a fine musketeer and deserved to make his mark and show his merit. Who was he to hold him back?
Last night, he had strategized and knew he needed someone to ride ahead and scout out the prison. He had first thought to send Aramis – but now – he thought to send d'Artagnan. He would use his ability to ride hard through difficult underbrush; his skill at memorizing detail and his ability to think quickly if things should go wrong – and above all, he knew d'Artagnan would follow orders.
So, he called d'Artagnan to his side and gave his instructions – talking fast to keep from changing his mind – "Ride to the prison. Report back. If anything goes wrong, your mission remains the same. Rescue him if you can – but if not – your orders are clear. The General cannot remain alive in Spanish hands."
When he was done – he gave a brief nod – acknowledging d'Artagnan's expression of gratitude and determination. His eyes spoke volumes; he would not let them down.
And then he was gone, over the rise and out of sight. His heart clenched. Would this be the last time he ever saw him? Should he have said something more; to let him know how proud he was of him?
He had given in and let him go. He instinctively turned and sought out Porthos' gaze – which conveyed strength and agreement with his decision.
He peered deep inside himself; and knew he had confidence in d'Artagnan's abilities. He would see d'Artagnan soon. After all he had promised.
Thank you for reading. Reviews are greatly, greatly appreciated! As always, positive comments are like water and sunshine - can't grow without them! I hope you enjoyed chapter 1.