DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE MUSKETEERS OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS
"Absolutely not." Athos stated in a tone that implied end of conversation.
D'Artagnan gazed up at him innocently. "Why? Are you scared?"
Athos refused to be baited. "No, and nor am I 12." He stood and put on his hat.
Aramis draped his legs over the doorway from his spread-eagle position on the floor to prevent Athos leaving. "Please Athos? I'm boooooooored!"
Porthos twisted in his chair by the fire with a grumpy grunt to glare at him. "As if we don't all know that by now."
"It's been raining for a whole 3 days!" Aramis persisted regardless. "We have been stuck inside all this time because of the floods and the stupid mud. I've braided Porthos' beard, stuck D'Artagnan to a chair, hidden all of Treville's boots, mixed vinegar with your wine-"
"That was you?!" Athos demanded, his sleepy moody demeanour vanishing in the blink of an eye.
Aramis audibly gulped. "…no."
Athos took a threatening step forward and grasped Aramis by his shirt. "It was D'Artagnan!" the caught musketeer squeaked.
"WHAT?!" D'Artagnan leapt up in protest. "I told you, at least 30 times, not to."
Aramis shrunk smaller in Athos' grasp, who was now shaking him so hard his teeth rattled. "P-p-Porthos found it funny. He laughed! He's guilty by association!"
"Not as hard as I'll laugh when Athos throws you out that window." Porthos growled. "Nothing is more annoying than Aramis the Musketeer when bored. Like having a two-year-old."
Athos leaned forward menacingly. "A two-year-old who is about to be very sorry for what he has done unless he apologises im-"
"I'm extremely sorry!" Aramis gasped. He sighed with relief when he was dropped back to the floor. He remained still for a few minutes so as not to invoke Athos' ire. Then he started flicking flies and bits of mud at Porthos.
D'Artagnan perked up hopefully. "Now can we play Truth or Dare?"
"NO." Porthos and Athos growled in unison.
D'Artagnan sank back down in his chair. "Kill-joys…" he muttered moodily under his breath.
"Oh can't we?" Aramis chimed in. "There's nothing else to do."
Porthos and Athos said nothing.
"Pleeeeeeeeeeease?!" sang Aramis. "Pretty please?"
"With a cherry on top?" D'Artagnan added.
Porthos stood violently and backhanded a stool against the wall. "FINE! If it'll shut you two idiots up then fine, let's just get on with it!"
D'Artagnan looked from the shattered stool back to Porthos and raised his eyebrows. "Someone's in a bit of a temper."
"It's him!" Porthos gestured wildly at Aramis, who smiled sweetly back. "He's been moaning and wailing and tormenting me for the last few days and I. Have. Had. Enough! He's not the only one who hates being cooped up inside not doing anything, but he has to take it out on me."
Aramis rolled onto his back blissfully. "You're so funny when you're angry."
"That's it. I'm finding a new best friend. Maybe that goat called Maud outside the tavern. It makes a lot less noise."
"You mean the one that tries to eat whoever walks past it?" asked D'Artagnan disbelievingly.
"Still less troublesome than that toddler sprawled across the floor over there."
Aramis sat up again. "Will you stop whining if I just say sorry?"
"Whining?" Porthos' left eye twitched. "Did you really just say whining?" He advanced on Aramis, who curled up like a hedgehog whilst giggling manically.
D'Artagnan cheered from the side-lines.
"Can you all please just shut up? I am trying to sleep." Athos muttered grumpily from the far corner, where he was reclining against a wall with his hat over his eyes.
"What happened to Truth or Dare?" D'Artagnan dared to ask.
Athos sighed long-sufferingly. Then he got up and sat down next to Aramis. "Porthos, stop trying to strangle Aramis and sit down. The sooner we play this ridiculous game the sooner I can go to sleep."
D'Artagnan leapt over with glee and filled the gap in the circle. "Shall I start?" he asked excitedly.
"I want to s-" Aramis tried but Porthos kicked him.
"Athos! Truth or Dare?" D'Artagnan asked brightly as if there had been no interruption.
"…dare."
"Give Porthos a nice cuddle."
Porthos shrugged, clearly not bothered, but Athos looked positively alarmed. "I don't do physical contact." He murmured.
"Forfeit is take off all your clothes." replied D'Artagnan smugly.
Athos glared at him, then reluctantly gave Porthos an awkward hug.
"Porthos." His voice was resigned. "Truth or Dare?"
"Truth."
Athos thought for a moment. "Are you in love with the girl from the Court of Miracles?"
Porthos hunched over and stared at his feet. After a while he mumbled "…yes." very softly under his breath.
"What?!" yelped D'Artagnan, leaning forward. "Tell us absolutely everythin-"
"D'Artagnan!" Aramis snapped warningly. He was suddenly wrapping Porthos in a warm embrace and stroking his back comfortingly. "It's okay, pal. She loves you too, I know it, even if she stays away."
Athos looked ashamed. "Forgive me. I should not have asked."
"S'okay." Porthos murmured, giving Aramis a grateful look. "I try to forget about it, that's all. Truth or Dare Aramis?"
Aramis chose truth too.
"What is the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to you? That I don't already know about, of course."
Aramis considered. "Do you remember Josette?"
Porthos squinted as if peering backwards into his brain to search his memory. "Vaguely."
Well, her husband came home early one time and I couldn't fit out the window, so she dressed me as a woman and I spent the whole evening pretending to be her sister. Naturally, I had to stay over and at night he came to my room and tried to seduce me! Mortifying."
They all laughed heartily. "Well, you do sometimes wear perfume." D'Artagnan wheezed through chuckles.
Aramis sniffed disdainfully. "Women like that. Besides, even if I smell like one that doesn't mean I look like one! I refused to shave the beard and he still thought me a Madame. D'Artagnan, your turn."
"Dare!" D'Artagnan cried instantly.
Aramis grinned evilly. "Kiss Athos."
"No." Athos said.
D'Artagnan gave him an apologetic look. "Sorry Athos, but I'm not taking my clothes off." He pounced on the older musketeer, who literally screamed and wriggled frantically like a fish on a line. The younger was laughing so hard he soon lost his grip. Athos leapt to his feet and sprinted toward the doorway with wild eyes. Before he could reach it, Porthos tackled him from behind and he fell to the floor. Aramis sat firmly on his legs.
"Pucker up, Athos!" D'Artagnan giggled nervously, leaning over him.
"By the way, when I said kiss I meant snog." Aramis added hastily. He was flung to the left as Athos gave a savage kick upwards, but managed to maintain control.
D'Artagnan lowered his lips to Athos. Porthos and Aramis cheered enthusiastically. When D'Artagnan pulled away Athos remained limp and white faced on the floor.
"Is he dead?" Porthos grunted jokingly.
"You must be quite a kisser!" Aramis giggled. "Though not as good as me, of course." He muttered as an afterthought.
D'Artagnan looked down at his mentor with some concern. "Athos?"
"…I think I'm going to be sick." came the eventual mumbled reply.
D'Artagnan felt rather stung. "It wasn't that bad!"
It took a good few moments for Athos to recover enough to re-join the circle. When he did, he remained pale and subdued. D'Artagnan was feeling distinctly insulted and began to display signs of sulking.
"Truth or Dare, Porthos?" he muttered moodily.
"Dare."
"Slap Athos across the face as hard as you can."
Aramis gasped and Athos started. "Why is everyone picking on me?" he sighed morosely.
"I'm not going to do that D'Artagnan." Porthos stated firmly, looking the young musketeer firmly in the eye. "He is my friend and I won't hurt him. Choose something else."
D'Artagnan huffed. "Fine. Do your best impression of the Cardinal."
Porthos stood with grand dignity. He shook out his cloak and turned so it swished about his shoulders. Then he adopted a sharp stride and stalked down the room. "Those pesky musketeers…" he murmured, drawing in a rattling breath and slowly licking his lips.
Aramis blinked. "That's actually not bad." He admitted, sounding impressed.
"Thank you, thank you." Porthos bowed and returned to his spot on the floor. "Athos?"
"Do I have to?" was the response.
"Yes." Then he softened slightly. "I'll be fair."
"…truth." Athos muttered.
"Where is your favourite place in Paris?"
Aramis and D'Artagnan both snorted. "The tavern." They said at the same time.
"Of course." Athos replied with a hint of a smile. "Your turn Aramis."
"Hmm…" Aramis deliberated. "I'll go dare."
"Give Porthos a piggy-back."
Aramis swallowed. Porthos looked at him uneasily. "Do you think you can hold me?"
"Of course!" Aramis tried to sound as confident as he could.
"…okay then." Porthos didn't look entirely reassured, but prepared to leap onto his friend's back none the less. A dare was a dare, after all.
Aramis puffed in preparation. "One…two…three!" D'Artagnan covered his eyes as Porthos jumped.
The veins stood out on the sharp-shooter's forehead as he struggled to support the large musketeer. He staggered a few steps, legs trembled and breathing in sharp huffs. His face turned bright red with the effort. Then his strength left him and he lurched sideways towards the door. Porthos let out a squeak of terror as he felt himself slide. At the same time, the door opened and Captain Treville entered, soaked to the bone from the rain outside. There was just time for his eyes to widen a few millimetres in surprise at the sight before him. In the next second he was buried beneath the heavy bodies of two of his finest musketeers as they fell to the floor.
Athos was staring in sheer horror at the degrading position he had ultimately caused his Captain to occupy. In contrast, D'Artagnan's hand was slapped over his mouth and his shoulders were shaking. Tears streamed down his face as he struggled not to make a single sound.
"Ow." Murmured Porthos blurrily from the top of the pile. "I think I hit my head." He slowly opened his eyes and saw that he was lying on top of Treville instead of Aramis. He froze. "Please tell me I hit it really, really hard and this is a dream." He muttered dazedly to no one in particular.
"This is not a dream, Porthos. I only wish it were." Treville replied coldly. Porthos gulped.
Aramis was now stirring. "Porthos, get your foot out of my…oh. Hello, Captain!" he smiled charmingly.
"Get. Off. Me."
Porthos and Aramis scrambled hastily to their feet. D'Artagnan couldn't hold back any longer – he let out a loud shriek of laughter.
Treville got to his feet. He was angrier than any of them had ever seen him. A fire burned in his ice-grey eyes and a vein throbbed in his forehead. "I see no reason for laughter, Charles D'Artagnan."
The voice was flat, emotionless, and utterly terrifying. At the use of his first name, the youngest felt his merriment freeze in his throat. Athos appeared incapable of movement. He just sat mutely on the floor with every muscle in his body stiffened. Porthos gazed meekly at the floor, mentally preparing himself for death. Aramis tried to adopt his submissive puppy-dog position that so often got him out of trouble much lighter. Then he winced and reached up to ease a crick out of his neck, his apologetic expression transforming into a self-pitying grimace. That was the spark.
"I CANNOTBELIEVE I HAVE WITNESSED THIS BEHAVIOUR FROM THE VERY GUARDS WHO PROTECT THE KING OF FRANCE HIMSELF! INCOMPETENT, IMMATURE, BRAINLESS CHILDREN ARE THE BEST WE HAVE, IT SEEMS! ARE THE RED GUARDS SKIPPING AND PLAYING HOPSCOTCH WITH THE CARDINAL, DO YOU THINK? ATHOS, I AM ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED AT YOU! ARE THE MEN YOU LEAD YOUR CHILDREN NOW? D'ARTAGNAN I HAVE HALF A MIND TO MAKE YOU KISS THAT PAULDRON GOODBYE RIGHT THIS VERY SECOND! YOU HAVE ABUSED MY TRUSTPORTHOS AND DISGRACED ALL THAT THIS REGIMENT STANDS FOR! I TOOK A BIG RISK IN ALLOWING YOU, ARAMIS, TO ENTER OUR RANKS WHEN YOU SO REGULARLYFLAUNT OUR VALUES AND THREATEN TO DISGRACE OUR GOOD NAME!" Spit was projecting everywhere from Treville's mouth and his face was an alarming shade of purple. He shook with rage. For a moment, his anger swallowed his breath and he could only gasp.
"Shall I fetch you a bag?" Athos whispered helpfully.
"I DO NOT WANT A BAG! I WANT A GROUP OF MEN WITH MATURITY AND DIGINITY! AND WHAT DO I HAVE?! A DRUNKARD, A PUPPY, A MOUNTAIN AND A WOMANISER!" Treville collapsed, clutching his head due to a pulsing headache. "This is no hope for France." He murmured despairingly, voice hoarse. "Bring me some wine immediately, somebody, anybody."
Athos immediately went scuttling to his room to fetch it. Porthos had tears in his eyes, D'Artagnan was bristling at being referred to as a puppy, and Aramis felt deeply ashamed.
"Here, sir." Athos gave Treville a bottle of his best wine. Treville sighed and removed the cork with his teeth. He tilted his head back to take a big swig.
Aramis suddenly had a terrible realisation. Cold dread crashed through his body. "Captain wait-" he gasped frantically.
Athos, Porthos and D'Artagnan remembered too and lunged forward to stop him, but it was too late.
"Blleeuurgh!" Treville spat out the wine, his face contorted in disgust. He stared up at his men in bewilderment. "What the h-"
Athos, Porthos and D'Artagnan stared at the ground and wordlessly pointed at their friend, whose knees were knocking. "I might have p-p-put v-vinegar in Athos' wine as a j-joke…"
"ARAMIS!"
Aramis' courage failed him and he fled, Treville hot on his heels.
HOPE YOU ENJOYED IT! PLEASE LEAVE A REVIEW, AND LET ME KNOW IF YOU HAVE ANY IDEAS OF WHAT I COULD DO NEXT. I'M THINKING MUSKETEER NEVER-HAVE-I-EVER… ;)