Disclaimer: The characters belong to Dumas and the most current version to the BBC. I am merely having a little fun with them.

Foul Fowl or No?

By: Vanessa Sgroi

"Now that was a repast fit for the King himself," declared Aramis, patting his belly contentedly before leaning back to rest against a tree. The fire crackled rather merrily between the four compatriots.

"'Ere now," murmured Porthos, "I dunno 'bout that. Thought it was a bit bland."

Aramis straightened abruptly. "Bland! How can you say it was bland?"

"Dark bread. Cheese…eh," Porthos shrugged. "Pretty standard fare when we're on a mission if you ask me."

"Did you forget the finely roasted fowl? The fowl so delicately flavored with a variety of savories I so thoughtfully tucked within my bag?"

Porthos shrugged again. "Was kind o'dry."

"Dry?" Aramis choked indignantly. Turning to Athos, he asked, "Was the meal bland? Or…dry."

"Well…" Athos raised his hands in a comme ci, comme ça gesture. "Perhaps a bit." He raised his cup. "But with a healthy portion of wine to wash it down…"

Aramis' head swiveled toward d'Artagnan. "D'Artagnan?"

D'Artagnan also raised his hands. "Don't get me involved in this!"

In the dusky gloom, Aramis failed to spot the twinkle of humor his fellow musketeers' eyes. He sputtered for a moment. "Fine. I see my efforts count for naught. I shall spare you the indignity of eating the dessert I also secreted away in my saddlebag."

Porthos, Athos, and d'Artagnan all suddenly chuckled. "Oi, Aramis, my friend," Porthos shook his head. "You fall for it every time. You surely know by now that we all believe you to be a right fine cook. Almost as fine as the King's own, I daresay."

Athos nodded. "Far better than Serge, though he's not ever to know that."

Aramis looked at each of his friends, seeing that they had indeed been teasing him. He shook his head ruefully. "Puéril teasing , gentlemen? Perhaps I should withhold dessert after all."

"'Ey now, let's not be hasty," Porthos advised, "What'd you bring?"

"Dried apples and honey. And a few petit gateau biscuits I charmed away from Madame Lorin…"

Porthos rubbed his hands together in anticipation. "I say we get to it then!"

Aramis stood and headed for his horse. He paused ever so briefly in front of Porthos. "You're sure the fowl wasn't bland?"

Porthos rolled his eyes. He put a hand on Aramis' shoulder and squeezed. "Oi, I have to quit teasing you, my friend. For someone who is usually so insouciant, you worry about the oddest things."

FIN