I watched as his frustration grew, and he was ready to take out his sword and assassinate someone. No, his attitude was unlike any other that I have seen. Yet, just recently noticing his growing complications that readily placed itself on the front burner, which caused me to understand exactly what he is dealing with at the moment. D'Artagnan, however slightly pretentious, knows his boundaries. He knows when to close his mouth, he knows how to elicit respect when most cannot, and most importantly, he knows how to keep a self image that establishes a high regard to what and whom he cherishes the most.
However, something caused d'Artagnan to lose his ability of holding back his frustrations. I saw that his unfortunate behavior was generated by Milady de Winter. It was not appealing, yet it caused a new emotion to arise from d'Artagnan. For once in my years of knowing him, I saw a real person behind that mask of bravery. I saw with my own two eyes d'Artagnan as a person, who shares human-like qualities that resembled others. Seeing him like that induced a new form of respect, mostly due to the fact because I saw him act like a human, become frustrated like a person, and release the bottled up confusion and anger that was mustering inside of his thoughts.
I saw, though.
I saw was Milady de Winter was doing - or what she wanted to do to d'Artagnan.
The deadly rage that Milady de Winter forced upon d'Artagnan was nothing like I have ever seen. Never once did I see the the young man's eyes like I have at that moment; they were glossy with terror. His pupils dilated as she unraveled her fury upon him. I did not have the knowledge on how to handle a situation like that. Although, one thing crossed my mind when I saw the quarrel between both humans: I needed to step in and do something. It was essential for me to intervene and do something.
Helping d'Artagnan is not usually a standard. He fought his own battles, and he knew how to handle certain situations. I could see it. Although, I could see that he needed help immediately. He would never ask me for aid, of course, but it was necessary, and I could sense that he was calling my name mentally. I view him so highly, and it takes courage to ask for help. As a result, his life was spared due to my immense contribution to the quarrel between Milady de Winter and d'Artagnan. I was not apprehensive about giving him the aid he needs, and he thanked my ever so gently, as is though he was trying to gain his respect back. I greatly respected him, his empathetic, yet serious tone resembled an attitude of a young man, and his bravery and courage mimicked his abilities. From the moment I met him up until this point in time, I watched d'Artagnan grow from a Gascon soldier, to a courageous figure. He resembled what the French are known for: passion. I have seen it before, the hero from a distant Provence tries to assess his bravery in the gates of Paris, but hardly qualifies. I thought this was perpetual, for it was constantly happening. That is, until I laid eyes on d'Artagnan. He stood out from the previous, and he exhibited a passion for the art of battle; I've never seen anything like him.
And now, I cast my gaze at d'Artagnan every once in a while to see his growth, to see what an excellent person he immortalized. I say immortalized due to the everlasting effect Paris will have from the courageous d'Artganan.
He is like a son to me, and I will value that relationship until I cannot hold onto a value.