The four inseparables were sent to deliver a letter to one of the king's cousins, who was shot about a week ago. To everyone's great surprise, after getting to know about it, Louis went to his cabinet to write a long, heartfelt letter to his relative, showing his concern openly. Everyone including the cardinal was shocked. It was a known fact that the king never showed even the smallest sign of respect and love towards his many relatives, but who could refuse his majesty?
The musketeers went rigid, when Treville announced that all four of them had to go to deliver the damn letter.
"It's the king's wish, gentlemen". – His dry, commanding tone faded away every hope of persuading him to send at least two of them, so they agreed with annoyed faces.
"Why does he need to send his best men together to deliver a simple letter?" – D'artagnan whined on their way there. The king's cousin lived in Marseille and it would take a few days to reach there, but the young Gascon seemed less excited about travelling than usual. The mission was easy and a bit stupid in his opinion.
"I am starting to believe that it's a map of treasure island instead of a simple piece of paper covered with never ending stupid blabbering." – Aramis joked, hoping to lighten his comrade's mood a bit.
"Whatever it is, let's put it into the king's cousin's hands as soon as possible and never come back again." – Athos said in his usual dry tone.
"But he would want to write a response for such kindness." – Porthos pointed out, shuddering at the thought of riding this far again. The others just groaned loudly.
They continued their journey, stopping only to eat and satisfy physical needs. Only a day was left ahead to arrive there, when suddenly Athos' horse whined loudly and jolted upwards. Athos lost his control on the reins and fell off the horse, hitting his head on a large stone.
The three musketeers rushed towards him. The swordsman had lost his consciousness. Aramis began checking his head, spotting quite big lump in the forest of his hair.
"Will he be all right?" – Porthos asked in concerned voice.
"He hit his head pretty hard. We need to get to Marseille as soon as possible. Only then I will be able to check him properly".
"I wonder, what has gotten into Roger? He is the calmest horse I've ever seen." – D'artagnan mused.
"I think he was spooked by a mouse."
"Really, Porthos? A mouse?"- D'artagnan's voice sounded like a stream of sarcasm.
"Why not?" – The larger man tried to defend himself.
"Stop it, you two. You can discuss about Roger's fears later, now it's Athos' condition I am afraid of, so let's get moving". – Aramis said impatiently, trying to lift the swordsman into a standing position, but failing miserably.
"Here, let me take him." – In one swift motion, Athos was lifted from the ground by two strong arms and within seconds he was sitting behind Aramis on his horse, head resting on the marksman's back.
Finally, after a very long ride, they landed their feet on the ground of Marseille. After finding the nearest tavern to have a shelter for the night, Porthos and D'artagnan went to deliver the letter that had caused their dear friend so much trouble, while Aramis stayed with Athos, nursing his head and waiting for him to wake up to check his condition.
The first thing he noticed was a sharp pain in the back of his head. Then a bitter bile grew in his throat, making him empty the contents of his stomach in a chamber pot that was placed below his chin. He had no idea, who did it, but was grateful. Unable to open his eyes because of his throbbing head, he fell on the bed, breathing heavily. A cool cloth wiped some sweat away from his forehead and then he felt a soft kiss on his temple, before darkness reclaimed him.
The second time Athos woke up, was nearly midnight. His friends were sitting around a small table, sharing a bottle of wine. None of them noticed that he was awake. Athos suddenly felt panic raising into his chest. Was he kidnapped by thieves? Who were those men? What did they want from him? Did they notice his fine clothes, a beautiful sword or a purse full of coins? Whatever it was, he had to find out.
"Who are you all?" – He slurred, disturbing their banter. Aramis almost fell off his chair at the sudden voice of his friend, which in fact sounded quite weird in his ears.
"Athos, you are awake!" – D'artagnan exclaimed happily, rushing towards his mentor, but Athos backed away, refusing to let the boy take his hand. D'artagnan was a bit upset, but thought Athos didn't like physical contact, so he felt guilty.
"I am sorry, Thos". – He apologized, lowering his head.
"I asked you a question! Answer me, before I chop your heads off, god damn you!" – The swordsman growled, making the other three step back instinctively.
"Relax, Mon Ami, you are amongst friends". – Aramis told him gently, trying to place a hand on the injured man's shoulder, but he backed away again. Aramis lowered his hand with sadness.
"I think he has an amnesia". – Declared Porthos, shooting D'artagnan a look, as if saying: "See? I am not that stupid. I figured it out, before any of you could react". The boy just snorted, getting the hint.
Before Aramis could say anything, Athos butted in:
"Are you thieves? If you are, you picked the wrong person to rob, gentlemen. You will be dead, before the lord himself realizes what's happening". – He said in such tone, that others shivered a bit against their wills. Especially D'artagnan. He had never seen his mentor so cold towards anyone before.
"We are not thieves, but your friends." – Aramis said tiredly. He didn't like Athos in noble way.
"I know none of you, stop lying!" – The swordsman growled again, losing his patience. Those men were definitely dangerous, but he wasn't a coward either and could defend himself well.
"Ok, then tell us who you are". – The marksman said quietly.
"I am Olivier d'Athos De La Fere. The count of Pinon". – Athos said proudly, looking at them as if they were nothing but scums beneath his feet. It wasn't like The noble Athos put himself above poor people. He just hated men with dirty hands and souls.
"You had that identity about six years ago". – The Gascon couldn't help but blurt out.
"Do you have wife?" – Porthos asked.
"Yes, did you kidnap her as well?" – Blood ran through Athos' veins at the image of his injured wife.
"No, I assure you she's completely safe and sound, lives in Paris, mistress to the king".
Aramis barely managed to finish the sentence, before the swordsman punched him harder than anyone ever did. The marksman fell on the floor, clutching his jaw and bleeding nose.
"Don't you ever dare to insult my wife like that, you bastard!" – Athos yelled and was about to attack the poor marksman again, when Pothos grabbed him and halted his movements. Athos was struggling violently in his friend's arms, trying to run away from there and get home as soon as possible, but Porthos wouldn't be himself if he let his brother follow so wrong decision.
After Athos finally calmed down a bit, he realized he had to be more quiet and obedient find out his wife's whereabouts and save her.
"Where is she?" – He asked quietly.
"We've already told you where". – Answered an annoyed Porthos.
"You are lying! My wife loves me. She would never deceive me!" – Athos lost his hardly gathered calmness in a heartbeat, reaching for Porthos this time, who held his wrists tightly in response.
"She did worse. She killed your brother, because of which you hanged her six years ago!" – D'artagnan yelled, ignoring his mentor's shocked expression.
"Then how come she is still alive?" – The swordsman snapped back, not giving up. He couldn't believe that his beloved Anne was a criminal.
The trio told him about his painful past, observing each and every change of their friend's face wearily. Finally, Athos sighed in defeat.
"So, I hanged my wife six years ago for murdering my brother, then left Pinon and became the king's musketeer?"
"And the best swordsman of France". – Aramis added.
"My wife survived and is now the mistress of the king?" – Athos asked in painful voice.
"Yeah. You two tried to kill each other many times, but somehow always managed to survive." – The Gascon said.
Athos wanted to argue back again, but their eyes convinced him that they were telling the truth.
"What do I do now?" – He whispered, lowering his head in his hands.
D'artagnan felt a sudden pain in his chest, hearing his mentor saying the same words for the second time. Athos was always quick to find a solution in every situation, but when it came to his complicated past, he was as helpless as a newborn child. It seemed like his friends were agreeing with his thoughts as their eyes held a great sadness.
"Try to live with this. Life goes on, no matter what." – Aramis suggested, kneeling down beside him. The marksman knew his advice wouldn't help his friend, but it was worth of trying.
"I love her… With all my heart…" – Athos mumbled. He looked like a child who had lost his favorite toy.
"We know, Mon Ami, but it's the only way." – The marksman smoothed him, suddenly feeling the need of hugging his troubled friend, but didn't dare.
To his great surprise, Athos suddenly leapt into his arms, wrapping his own around the stranger's torso, obviously seeking for comfort. He had no idea how he trusted three strangers, but he did as his heart told him to do. He was rather grateful, when Aramis hugged him back, whispering comforting words in his ears.
D'artagan and Porthos stood there with unsure expressions. It was the first time they had seen Athos hugging someone so freely, openly and to be honest, both wanted to exchange places with the marksman. As if feeling it, Aramis lifted his head from Athos' shoulder and gestured them to join the hug. The other two hesitated a bit, but soon Athos was surrounded by their arms. He was supposed to be angry, betrayed, stunned, but instead he felt warmth rushing through his chest, relaxing his thudding heartbeat. He felt surprisingly safe and would do anything to remain like this forever.
The trio released him, watching his expression carefully.
"Thanks." – Was all Athos managed to say.
"For hug?" – D'artagnan asked.
"For hug and for something I don't know how to name. I don't know you, but I can see I mean more to you than I thought. Are you my friends?"
"Yes, we are best mates known as four inseparables." – Porthos replied proudly.
"Let me guess, we've known each other for six years?" – Asked Athos, getting three nods.
"And how did we end up here?"
Aramis explained him everything shortly.
"We are supposed to return to Paris tomorrow morning or Treville will skin us alive". – He finished, running a hand through his unruly hair.
"Treville?" – The swordsman raised an eyebrow.
"Our captain". – Porthos enlightened him.
Athos nodded wearily, before announcing he was sleepy.
"Do I have to sleep in this bed?" – He asked with disgusted look, gesturing at the bed with slightly dirty linens.
"Yes." – Aramis nodded.
"I am a noble, not a beggar". – Athos crossed his arms over his chest, a frown settling on his features.
"Ok, you can sleep in mine. It looks cleaner". – D'artagnan suggested.
Athos nodded his thanks and went to sleep.
The trio were tired too, but couldn't sleep before discussing about the events of the day.
"He talked more than he did during those 6 years!" – Aramis exclaimed in disbelief.
"You don't say. Plus, he's more sensitive." – Added D'artagnan grinning.
"He's always sensitive. The thing is that he trusted us despite us being strangers to him. See? Love can change everything." – Said Porthos, again proud of himself. He was rather in a wisdom mood today.
"Love?" – D'artagnan raised an eyebrow.
"He saw love in our eyes". – Porthos took the bait.
"Yeah? I think he was unable to say anything more than our jaws tempting to be punched". – Aramis remembered the pain Athos had caused by punching him. He flinched at the thought.
"Doesn't matter. The fact is that there's a deep connection between us".
"Of course, there is, lad, or else why are we called inseparables?" – Aramis kind of chided him.
"I wish he would come back to his usual self soon." – Porthos said, gesturing the conversation was over and the trio went to their own beds.
The next morning Athos went downstairs to get breakfast. The strangers were still asleep in their beds, so the swordsman didn't find it necessary to disturb them, plus, he needed some privacy. Athos sat down on a wooden chair and started eating his meal, when a woman came running inside the tavern. She was young with light brown hair and equally brown eyes. Roaming her eyes wildly around the tavern, she ran to Athos' direction, startling the swordsman with her voice.
"Can I hide under your table, sir?" – She asked wearily.
Athos just nodded, promising he wouldn't reveal her whereabouts. The woman thanked him and quickly settled under the table, trying to avoid touching her savior's legs.
The swordsman continued eating as if nothing had happened and was nearly done, when he spotted three men entering the tavern, clearly looking for something.
"Or someone" – He whispered, looking at his table.
The men searched for whole tavern, but found nothing. Then they started looking under tables and when it came to Athos' table's turn, the swordsman stood up calmly.
"How can I help you, gentlemen?" – He asked.
"We are looking for a young woman here. She escaped us about an hour ago and it was the closes place she could hide. If you don't mind, can we look under your table?" – Asked one of the three, obviously the leader.
Athos looked at the man in the eye.
"What makes you think she's hiding under a table?"
"We didn't find her anywhere else. So please, let me look under the table". – The man was losing his patience, but still managed to be polite.
"No."
"Hey, you, old scum, let him do what he wants!" – The other man behind the leader nearly growled at Athos, but he remained unaffected.
"Is this your way of showing politeness?" – His calm tone was making blood boil through the man's veins.
"To hell with politeness! My main aim is to find that little whore and get paid!"
Athos was about to reply, when the third man pulled a very scared woman from under the table.
"Victory!" – He exclaimed with an evil glint in his eyes.
The woman started shouting, begging for help. The swordsman started fighting immediately. Although, he was unarmed, he still managed to knock one of them out and was now finishing with the other, when the third one hit him a chair on his head from behind. Athos landed on the floor with a thud, giving up on darkness surrounding him.
Aramis, Porthos and D'artagnan came running down the stairs, hearing noise. They read the situation quickly and killed the bandits without using half of their strengths. When the fight got over, D'artagnan turned to the trembling woman behind him.
"Who are you?" – He asked, putting his pistol back into his belt.
"I am Margot Beaufort. Me and my father were returning home, when these three attacked us. My father fought bravely, but he was old and they killed him easily."
"What did they want?" – This time, Aramis questioned her.
"They wanted to rob us and then sell us as slaves". – She whispered, horrified.
The marksman put his cloak around her, trying to soothe her.
"It's ok, dear, you are safe now."
"This man here," – She said, pointing her finger at still unconscious Athos, - "He was trying to save me."
The musketeers finally noticed their again injured friend and rushed to his side. Aramis knelt beside him, trying to wake him up.
"Athos, my friend, open your eyes". – He called, patting his cheeks gently.
After a while, Athos groaned and opened his eyes heavily. His head was throbbing terribly, but he still managed to mumble:
"What happened?"
"These three handsome men here", - Aramis said in a mocking voice, gesturing at the three prone figures, - "Tried to kidnap a young woman. While you were fighting with them, one of them hit you on your head very hard".
The swordsman sat up with a great difficulty to look at the woman. She offered him a gentle, apologetic smile, before lowering her head in guilt.
"How are you feeling?" – Asked Porthos, forgetting about his friend's amnesia.
"Like a carriage went over me". – Athos replied honestly.
"Be grateful that you have such a strong head, because you hit it so many times that I wonder how your skull is still full."
"Shut up, Aramis." – Athos rolled his eyes, running his fingers through his hair, spotting a lump.
The trio's eyes widened and before the swordsman could say anything more, they wrapped him in a tight embrace, stroking his back and hair. Athos tried hard to keep his balance and return the hug at the same time. He gave a small sigh of relief, when they released him.
"What was that for?" – He mumbled as usual, but his friends could hear a familiar fondness in his voice.
"We are just happy that you are back". – Aramis replied, gesturing the two to keep quiet.
"Back? Where else should I be if not with you?" – Athos raised an eyebrow, giving them a suspicious look.
"Nah, it's a long story. We will tell you someday, for now just let us enjoy your normal nature". – Aramis replied with relief in his voice, which didn't go unnoticed by the swordsman, but he decided not to push anymore.
"Did you deliver the letter?" – He asked after a moment, making three annoyed heads nod in unison.
"Let's go then."
"Not before breakfast". – Porthos scolded him, rubbing his tummy that was grumbling loudly.
The four inseparables arrived back to the Garrison to report the captain. Treville was satisfied that the mission went well and paid them handsomely.
Life went back to normal for our heroes. There seemed nothing to worry about until the day Treville called them in his office.
"Gentlemen, the king heard that his cousin is already fine and wants to invite him to the palace. There's a letter he gave me about half an hour ago. You four must take this invitation to Louis's relative and accompany him during his journey here! Wait, gentlemen, where are you running?"…