Disclaimer: I do not own Albert the Fifth Musketeer or the characters. I do own the witch.
Notes: Strange story idea to hit, but it did! Anyway, the majority of these characters are from the series, my creation the witch is the exception. Papier was in the episodes The Gold Coach and The Identikit Portrait. A lot of my own headcanon is included, you can learn more about some of it from one of my other fics called Smile!.
I hope you enjoy this fic, it took a while to write thanks to writer's block, but I am glad I decided to continue it.
"Milady, I have finally found the perfect way to defeat that blasted Fifth Musketeer, once and for all!"
Milady climbed out of the open trap door and listened to the man she served. "What is that, Cardinal?"
"I found a witch with powerful magic, and she agreed to use one of her spells on him. It seems she is on our side."
"Which spell will she use?"
"We'll just have to find out. It won't be fatal, she never dabbles in that kind of work, but it will still stop him from ruining my plans." The wicked Cardinal Richelieu, Prime Minister of France, rubbed his hands together and chuckled nastily. "Those other dimwitted Musketeers won't be able to do a thing, and I'll finally have the advantage."
"Shall I lure him to her?"
"Exactly as I was about to suggest. As I understand, the Musketeers will be out on patrol. I want you and some of my Guards to ambush them. The Guards will fight the idiots, while you lure the Fifth Musketeer to the witch."
"Leave it to me, Cardinal." She jumped back into the trap door, closing it after herself.
It was a fine, sunny day in the city of Paris. The perfect weather for the King's Musketeers to patrol the streets and make sure all is peaceful among the people. That included ensuring the Cardinal's Guards weren't causing any trouble for the citizens.
They marched along in a single line, D'Artagnan in the lead and Albert protecting the rear. That way, if the other Musketeers ran into trouble at any point, Albert would be the one standing and able to come to their aide. It was a common occurence thanks to the Guards always challenging the Musketeers to duels, so that arrangement had become the permanent option.
Naturally, they could never go patrolling without running into a Guard or two. In this case, it was four, as well as the wicked traitoress Milady de Winter. "Halt! By order of the Cardinal, you shall not pass!" the largest of the Guards exclaimed.
D'Artagnan huffed. "Do you have any idea who we are?"
"Of course, you are the King's Musketeers! But, not for much longer..." He drew his sword, his comrades following suite.
"Such insolence! Gentlemen, charge!" D'Artagnan unsheated his sword and led the squad in a charge. Each of the Three Musketeers and himself met up with a Guard and started to duel them.
Milady, on the other hand, had run off in another direction.
Albert didn't take chances. Whenever Milady was around, it meant trouble. "Gentlemen, I'll go after Milady! Take care of things here!" He ran off, not hearing D'Artagnan's affirmative response.
Milady ducked into an alleyway, running at her fastest speed. "No matter how fast I run, I know that little pipsqueak will catch up to me, he always does. But, the quicker I lead him there, the better."
"Halt, Milady!" Albert called as he sprinted after her, unaware of the danger he was about to put himself into.
Milady turned into what appeared to be an abandoned building. She was pleased to see the witch was ready. "Here he comes, have a spell ready."
The older woman nodded, a large book in her hands. "Go and wait in the back." She stood there patiently awaiting her guest.
The miniature Musketeer entered the building. He stopped right in front of the witch. "Excuse me, Madame, but did you see another woman run through here by any chance?"
The witch looked to him with glowing eyes and she started to murmur words in a foreign language.
He knew the woman was dangerous, so he tried to run. "What is this? My feet are stuck! I cannot move!" He was completely frozen in place.
Milady watched from a crack in the door. "Unbelievable, she was able to stop him in his tracks..."
The witch's eyes changed colour and her words came louder. She never once averted her gaze from the petit male struggling to free himself. "Now, let it be done!" Her eyes reverted back to normal. "It is alright, you can come out now."
Milady did so, carefully approaching them. "What did you do? He looks the same as he did before..."
"I changed him into someone helpless. A child."
"Like I said, he looks the same as he did."
"Not really. Look closer, he is a little smaller than he was, though not by much. I'd say he'd be...hmm..."
"What did you do to me?" Albert asked, surprised at the pitch of his voice. It sounded a bit higher than usual.
"Nothing dangerous. Just turned you into a child, most likely eight years old."
"Eight years old...?"
"Though it seems my spell was incomplete, you still have lingering memories of these days."
"I must find the Musketeers, they're most likely in danger!" He ran out of the building, back the way he remembered.
Milady also left the building, though she went a different way.
The duel was heating up. Just as the Musketeers were about to finish it, a young child who looked very familiar walked towards the group. "Gentlemen!"
The duel ceased immediately. The Guards knew their job was done, so they beat a hasty retreat.
Albert approached D'Artagnan. "D'Artagnan!"
"How do you know my name, boy?" the self-declared leader of the Musketeers demanded to know.
"Because it is me."
"Who are you? And why are you wearing Albert's uniform?"
"Do you not recognise me, dear friend?"
Aramis did. "Albert! What happened? You seem different..."
"It was all a trap. The Guards distracted you so I would follow Milady on my own. She led me to this old building, where a witch was waiting. She cast two spells on me. One was to keep me from moving so she could cast the second, resulting in this. I'm fortunate I can remember all of you right now, the spell was incomplete. If it had been completed, I most likely would've reverted to the way I was when I was this age."
"Is there anything we can do?" Porthos questioned.
"Follow me, I'll lead you to where the witch was. If we can find some clues, we might find a way to change me back...I fear what may happen if we do not..."
"What do you mean?"
"If the spell was incomplete, that doesn't necessarily mean it won't work the way it should. I'll most likely revert to my true eight-year-old self over a period of time. I must not let that happen!"
"What were you like back then?" Athos asked.
"Miserable."
"Miserable? You?" the Three Musketeers (plus one) asked in disbelief.
"Yes. When I was seven, Maman passed away, and for five years, I found it hard to smile and keep myself from crying. It was Balthazar who saved me."
"It's hard to picture you without a smile..." Athos murmured.
"And I would rather not feel that way again. Now, let us hurry before the spell begins to complete itself."
The Three (plus two) Musketeers ran off, four of them following their now-a-child comrade.
By the time they arrived at the building, it was too late. The witch was gone. Albert sighed. "She's gone..."
"Are you sure this is the building?" D'Artagnan asked.
"Positive. My lingering memories have yet to be affected."
"Lingering memories?"
"The reason why I can remember what happened to me and who all of you are. If the spell completes itself, I'll just believe I really am a child who has yet to age, and all of you would be strangers to me." He started looking around, hoping to find any possible clues that could help them track down the witch who'd turned him into a child. "Let's split up and search for anything at all that could help us."
Aramis and Athos were on the top floor. Even though the witch had been waiting for Albert on the ground floor of the building, it didn't mean there couldn't have been a chance that she'd left something elsewhere in the building, and it paid to check each and every nook and cranny.
Aramis opened drawer after drawer, hoping to track down any clues that could help his (now much) younger friend and comrade. He even found a painting of a cupboard and opened the drawers for that, not taking any chances. "How is your search coming along, Athos?"
"I haven't found anything..."
He sighed. "Well, we have to keep looking, we're in a race against time right now."
Porthos was on the middle floor, anything to keep him from the kitchen, which would distract him greatly. He looked through each room, and managed to find a piece of paper. "Hmm, maybe this would be handy." He picked it up and pocketed it, continuing his search. Even if he'd found one possible clue, that didn't mean more weren't around that he needed to worry about.
Albert and D'Artagnan scoured the ground floor, doing as the others were doing. "How will we know if the spell is taking more of an effect on you?" D'Artagnan asked his comrade.
"Hmm...I think you just would know." Albert got down on his hands and knees and looked under the larger cupboards. "What's this?"
"Did you find something?"
"I think so..." He reached under and took hold of some kind of talisman. "Though, I don't have any idea as to what it could actually be." He pulled his arm back and unfurled his fingers, looking at the item he'd found. "It's some kind of stone..."
"A stone? What good will that do us?"
"Look at those strange markings. I wonder if this stone is connected to the witch..."
"You do have a good point there. Well done."
"Have you found anything yet?"
"Just an old piece of paper with gibberish written on it. I threw it over there."
Albert clapped a hand to his forehead. "D'Artagnan, that could've been a vital clue!" He hurried over to the scrunched up ball of paper, as if afraid that if he took his time, it would vanish. He picked it up and did his best to unscrunch it and flatten it out. "These words are in a different language. I can't quite make out the text..."
"You've never read it before?"
"No, I don't think so. I've only really read Italian, English and French."
"Oh. So, you have no idea what that says?"
"No. But, we should keep it anyway. If we ask around, we might find someone to help us translate it."
"Good idea. So, when did you read Italian anyway?"
"When looking over Leonardo da Vinci's plans for his own inventions." He looked under another cupboard and found another talisman. "She didn't do well in collecting anything of hers that would help us track her down."
"I found one over here too. See?" He reached up to a high shelf and took a talisman down. "They must've been involved in the spell somehow."
"Exactly what I was thinking. If she left them behind, they might no longer be of use. Still, if someone can identify them, we'll be able to find out who she is, what purpose she had of doing this to me, and how we can find her so she can reverse it." He reached under his tabbard and pulled out a small sack. "We can put them all in here."
D'Artagnan placed his talisman inside the sack and watched as Albert had placed his inside as well.
After two hours of searching, everyone met up to inform of any discoveries they'd made. Porthos handed over five sheets of paper, all with the same foreign language written on them. Aramis didn't have anything to hand over, but Athos did. "I found this by accident." He handed Albert a shawl.
By accident, Albert surmised that Athos must've tripped over it from not watching where he was going. "Thank you. If we can find who owns this shawl, we might find the witch. Now, we need to find someone who can help us..."
Everyone worried as he'd trailed off. "Albert?"
He looked up at them. "Hm? What are we doing?"
"Oh no..." Aramis moaned. "The spell is taking effect. Albert, do you at least remember us?"
"Of course I do."
"That's good. Now, what we were doing was hoping to find the person who changed you into a child."
"Oh, that sounds like a fun game."
"Game...?"
D'Artagnan shrugged his shoulders. "If he believes it is, let him. We spoke about this earlier while searching for clues, and Albert warned me that if he starts to become more of his eight-year-old self, we should accept it and adapt to it. It would be upsetting to a child if they were to be told they're not how they really should be." He turned to his younger comrade. "That's right, Albert, we're playing a game. The game is called Find the Witch. We have a lot of items that we can use to find her. But, we need help from other people."
"Okay. I'll help you then. What do we have?"
"Some paper with some strange words written on it, and some stones with markings on them, and then this shawl. You're holding all of the clues."
He nodded and looked at each of them carefully. "Oh, I know this writing!"
"Huh?" But, before you said you didn't...
"One of Maman's friends speaks it! It's German!"
"German...? Then, let's go ask that coachbuilder to translate it for us!"
The group ran off to Papier's workshop.
Coachbuilder Papier was in the middle of planning out another strange coach, it was in the form of a bell. He was surprised when he saw the door open, and there stood the King's Musketeers. "Hello, what can I do for you?"
"You're Papier, right?" D'Artagnan asked.
"Ja, that's me."
"Good. We need your help."
"Mine? What for?"
"Can you read this for us, Monsieur?" Albert asked as he shyly held out the sheets of paper.
Papier stared at the child for a minute before accepting the papers. "What happened? I don't think Musketeers usually have a child mit them..."
"Not normally, no, but this is a case that's not normal. That's Albert, some witch turned him into a child. The spell is completing itself as we speak," Aramis explained.
"Albert...?" Papier started reading through the papers. "Ja, I can read this. It is a form of spell from ancient times. From what the words are saying, this is the rest of the child-change spell that Albert was inflicted mit." He took care not to read the words aloud, in the event that he completed the spell by accident. "There are only three people in all of Paris that I know of who can completely understand the terminology in this text. How old was the one who did this?"
"It's no good, he can't remember. Like Aramis said, the spell is completing itself as we speak. At the moment, while he can still remember the four of us, he's believing this is all some sort of game," D'Artagnan explained.
"That explains why he didn't address me by name..." The man nodded to himself. "Looks like you'll have to find all three. Do you have something that can help you?"
"A shawl."
"That really will help you!" Papier started to describe each person's physical appearances.
With words of thanks for his help, the Musketeers set off in search of the three people Papier described to them.
As they made their way through the city, Albert suddenly stopped in his tracks.
The other four came to a halt when they realised the youngest had. "Albert? What is it?" D'Artagnan asked.
He shook his head. "Something doesn't feel right."
"What do you mean?"
"Something's wrong."
"Wrong?" He approached him. "What's wrong?"
"This isn't my village."
Oh no...
"D'Artagnan?"
At least he remembers who I am...but, for how much longer?
"I want to go home...I miss Papa..."
How much longer do we have? "It's alright, Albert, we're still playing that game. Your father knows where you are, and knows we'll keep you safe."
"I know, but I want to go home..."
"It's alright. When the game is over, then you can go home. You did say you wanted to play this game of Find the Witch, didn't you?"
"Yes..."
"Then, let's go and finish this game."
"Okay."
We really have to hurry now! If he's already starting to believe he should be back home, how much longer do we have before he forgets he's one of us?
They found an elderly woman sweeping out her house. "Do you think she's the witch?" Porthos asked.
"Only one way to find out." D'Artagnan handed Albert the shawl. "Ask her if this belongs to her. If she says yes, then we'll start asking if she's a witch."
"Wait. She'll recognise him, but if we approach her in our current uniforms, then she'll realise who we are. We need to think through this carefully," Aramis interrupted.
"Good point. So then, what will we do?"
Porthos brightened. "I have an idea."
The other three older Musketeers turned to him in shock. "What do you have planned?"
"Well, we can still have Albert hand her the shawl. But, what if we..."
The elderly woman paused in her sweeping as a woman and a small child approached her. She believed the child looked familiar, but from where? "Hello there, is there something I can do for you?"
"Yes. You see, my son found this on the street, and we heard it might be yours. Is this your shawl, Madame?" the woman asked in a surprisingly false voice. For it was actually Aramis, having to wear women's clothing again for the sake of duty. I didn't mind Albert suggesting it, but just because I've done it once it seems appropriate that I'm always the one wearing a dress?
Albert, the small boy, held out the shawl. He'd removed his tabbard, hat and sword.
The woman took it out of his hands and examined it. "Why, yes. This is mine."
"Ah-ha!" D'Artagnan came running over. "So, you're the witch!"
"What...? Oh no, this was all a trap!"
"You need to change Albert back right now!"
"And what if I refuse? I know your ways, Musketeer."
Just as D'Artagnan was about to say that despite their benevolence, he most likely would've had the woman sent to the Bastille until she agreed to do as demanded, he was interrupted by some sobs. He looked to the child, his younger comrade. "Albert?"
"Maman..." the boy whispered as he tried to wipe away his tears.
"Oh no..." He turned angrily to the witch. "See what you've done? Before this spell was taking more of an effect on him, he was able to tell us what he was like as a child of this age! Do you realise what you've done to him?"
Aramis, Athos and Porthos led Albert away, trying to console his cries, but it seemed nothing was working.
The woman crossed her arms. "I did as I was requested, changed him into someone who won't be able to interfere any longer."
"Maybe so, but you also sent him back to the darkest days of his youth!"
"What do you mean...?"
"His mother died when he was seven, and for five years after that, until someone encouraged him to, he refused to smile and would cry most often! You've seen it just now, haven't you? How he started to weep for his mother?"
The woman looked to her hands. "I see. That was not something I'd planned on."
"Then, reverse it! We'll let you go if you just change him back! He'll forgive you, he'll see it as a joke! But, we don't want him to suffer like that ever again!"
"Alright. You might be on the side of the King, but even I find making a child cry despicable." She looked up at him, firm resolve in her eyes. "Know that if you go back on your word, then I shall be forced to curse you."
"I won't go back on my word. I promise. On D'Artagnan's honor."
"Very well then. I will go and prepare my spell book and some powerful talismans."
"What are those for anyway?"
"They increase my magical energies."
"Oh."
"I'll call for you when I'm ready. For now, just do what you can to stop that boy from crying."
"It's hard."
"Just try. He is your friend, isn't he?" She went inside her house, doing as promised.
D'Artagnan went to join his comrades, hoping to do something to ease the boy's cries.
The woman emerged ten minutes later and saw Albert was still crying. "I'm ready. Bring him in here now."
D'Artagnan nodded and took hold of Albert's hand. "Come on now, it will be alright."
The boy nodded, still wiping at his eyes, trying to rid himself of the tears but failing. He walked alongside D'Artagnan, not minding the other men following them.
The woman asked for Albert to stand in the middle of a circle, then she started to utter some words in German. Her eyes were glowing a brilliant blue as she spoke the words that would bring the child back to how he should be. She finished with a shout of "Now, let it be done!" and turned to look at the Musketeers, her eyes no longer glowing. "There."
Albert had ceased crying as the spell was being cast. He wiped what remained of the tears with the back of his arm and looked around. "Oh, where am I?"
"Albert...?"
He looked over to his friends and the woman. "My friends! What happened?"
They responded by running over to him, asking one hundred questions a minute.
He raised his hands and made a placating motion. "I'm fine, I'm perfectly fine. But, what happened? The last thing I remember was being in an abandoned building, and the woman over there...oh. I see." He approached her. "You'd cast a spell on me in there, didn't you?"
She nodded. "I was requested by Cardinal Richelieu to cease your interference, so I changed you into a child. The spell did not complete at that moment. Your friends brought you here after tracking me down, and had me change you back."
"If you were working for the Cardinal, then you wouldn't have accepted the pleas of the Musketeers. Why did you agree?"
"Because of what I'd learned I'd done to you as the spell completed itself. Not even I find pleasure in the sight of a crying child, especially not in those circumstances."
"I see."
"Your friend vowed my freedom if I agreed to his terms."
"Then, you shall have it. You did the right thing in the end, and I did like the feel of just playing a game instead of following through duty."
"You remember it now?"
"Parts of it, it's coming back to me gradually."
"I see."
He looked to his comrades. "Come on now, gentlemen, it's all been taken care of. We can leave her in peace." He then turned back to the woman. "I would like to warn you though about Cardinal Richelieu. If he learns that you reversed the spell, he would most likely sentence you to imprisonment."
"I'll flee the country immediately."
"Then, take care, Madame." He led his comrades out of the building. When they were far enough, he looked to each of them. "I would like to offer you my most heartfelt gratitude for doing what you could to help me when it seemed I was not going to be able to help myself."
"We're friends, brothers-in-arms, we'd never leave anyone of us alone in a time of need," D'Artagnan responded. He handed Albert the rest of his uniform, which the petit man had replaced to where it should be.
Aramis removed the dress, his uniform still underneath. He placed his hat on his head. "Wearing women's clothing for the sake of duty at this moment was a worthy sacrifice to my masculinity."
"I am sorry you had to do that, Aramis," Albert responded, fixing his own hat. "I can also remember those last moments, as the spell completed itself." He looked to D'Artagnan. "I have seen you lose your temper many a time, my friend, but that moment was the most intense. What caused it?"
"Is it not obvious? Nobody should have to feel the pain you were in, especially not a second time, so when I realised what was happening, I just lost it."
"And despite how intense it was, normally you'd draw your sword and charge at whoever triggered it. You didn't this time?"
"I might've been angry, but I was also desperate. I hated seeing you so distressed, crying for your mother, so...even if I'd had to beg and plead on my knees, I would've done that. Anything to keep you from feeling that same way again. Yes, I shouted and screamed and could've lost my voice, but even then when my vision was going white from the rage I felt, I knew drawing my sword would only make things worse."
"How were you so quick to forgive her like that? She turned you into a child!" Porthos asked the smallest of the Musketeers.
The petit blond nodded. "Maybe so, but it's like I recall D'Artagnan saying, I would easily forgive her and see it as a joke. I never deliver serious harm to our enemies, and even though that woman could've done the same to me if she had been ordered to, she didn't. When she saw her spell did cause more damage than anticipated, she reversed it. In the end, it felt like nothing more than a harmless prank gone wrong."
"Oh."
"Now then, shall we head for home?"
The other four nodded. "But, before we do..." D'Artagnan said.
"Yes?"
"We need to do something we may never have been able to do with all five of us again." He grinned as he drew his sword and raised it to the sky. "One for all..."
The other four smiled widely as they drew their swords, crossing them together with D'Artagnan's as a sign of unity among all of them. "...and all for one!"