AN: This was written for Raouldehadleyfraser, who wanted to see Athos comforting D'Artagnan after he slumped against the wall in the beginning and Aramis confronting him about his comments before the contest. Since these were two separate incidents, I've split the story in two parts. I hope you enjoy!
"There's no easy way to tell you this."
D'Artagnan allowed his head to fall back and thud dully against the wall behind him. He felt as if he were looking at the world through a thick mist. Nothing felt quite real. He couldn't believe, couldn't accept that his farm had been razed to the ground. After all these years, how could it just be gone?
He had grown up there. Learned to ride there. Learned to fence. Everything he had owned had been in that house. All he had left of his family, of his father. Destroyed by a man with the heart of a monster.
He took a shuddering breath, trying to feel something, anything, but all there was within him was an empty void. What do I do now?
He hadn't ever intended to go home again, not really. From the moment he had helped save Athos he knew he would remain in Paris and do whatever it took to become a Musketeer. But in those cherished dreams his farm had remained as a bastion, a sanctuary. It was to be an untouched place of safety, a symbol of all he hoped to protect. Now it was gone. So what was he left fighting for?
His only real option was to pray for a commission, but how would he ever get one now? His best chance was this contest, but with no funds for the entry fee it was a hopeless dream. Constance would have no choice but to turn him out. He would be destitute. And everything had been going so well.
He wasn't sure how long he sat there with his back pressed against the cold wall. He looked up in surprise as a shadow fell over him.
It was Athos.
The older man was staring down at him, eyebrows raised in a look D'Artagnan hadn't seen before. If he had to categorize it, he'd call it the I will kill whoever hurt you look. He blinked, surprised at the thought. He must be imagining it. Surely Athos didn't care that much.
"Something the matter?" Athos asked, his tone odd. He sounded almost protective.
"Why do you ask?" D'Artagnan kept his voice even as he craned his neck back to meet Athos's eyes.
"You are sitting in the dirt against a wall with an expression like a wounded animal," Athos told him bluntly. "Clearly something is wrong. Do you wish to discuss something of a personal nature?" He cocked his head to the side thoughtfully. "Shall I send for Aramis? Emotion is his forte."
A bitter laugh escaped him. "There's nothing to discuss." He pushed himself to his feet, tired of his helpless position.
"D'Artagnan, you have yet to learn the noble art of concealing your feelings," Athos informed him dryly.
"Yes, well, it's a pity I'm not a noble, isn't it?" he sneered, a wave of bitterness crashing through him. It was instantly tempered with a tinge of guilt. Athos didn't deserve to be sniped at.
But the older man seemed unfazed. "What has happened?" he asked in a tone that brooked no arguments.
D'Artagnan glared at him for a moment. "Don't bear your burdens alone, my friend," Athos murmured, unusually gentle. "You wouldn't want to turn out like me."
That won him the barest hint of a smile, and D'Artagnan at last relented.
"LaBarge burned down my farm." Athos blinked, surprise turning into a grim sort of sympathy and fury.
"There is no hope of saving it?"
D'Artagnan shook his head, bile in his throat. "There's nothing left to save. It's all gone."
Athos nodded slowly. "I am sorry."
"Everything I had was on that farm," D'Artagnan told him helplessly. "My family's belongings, my father's tools…"
"It is a grievous loss," Athos said solemnly.
"I just always thought it would be there forever. It was my home. And now it's gone." To his embarrassment and horror, he felt himself on the verge of tears, a lump forming painfully in his throat. He struggled to breathe, unwilling to shame himself in front of Athos. Perhaps he should have let the man call for Aramis. It would've been less embarrassing to cry in front of him. In front of anyone but Athos, really. He respected the man too much.
He looked down, unwilling to allow Athos to see his shame, and to his surprise he felt Athos's arm go round his shoulder in an awkward, hesitant embrace. Beyond shocked, D'Artagnan stood frozen as Athos carefully hugged him, surprised at the warmth in the gesture. Tentatively, he hugged back, and the hollowness within his chest receded a bit.
Athos let him go after a moment, stepping back and clearing his throat uncomfortably. D'Artagnan felt shy all of a sudden, but squared his shoulders and met the older man's eyes. "You will have justice, D'Artagnan." Athos's voice was steady and sure. "What will you do in the meantime?"
His spirits sank again. "I don't know," he said glumly. "All my income was from that farm. If I could compete and win the pot, I'd have a chance, but I don't have the entry fee. And if I can't compete, how will I ever win my commission?" He felt helpless and small.
Athos scuffed a foot on the ground, face blank. D'Artagnan felt suddenly resentful of the other man's birth. He was a noble; he probably had more money than he knew what to do with. Part of him wished enviously that Athos would offer him the entry fee, but a larger part was glad Athos offered no charity. His pride was wounded enough.
"Have hope, young Gascon," Athos said at last, expression unreadable. "You will have your justice, and your commission, soon enough." The simple faith soothed some of his pain, and he offered the older man a small smile of gratitude.
Athos nodded in return and clapped a hand to his shoulder before strolling back to the courtyard and leaving D'Artagnan alone with his thoughts. Perhaps Athos was right and he would receive justice. Treville said the list had come from the Cardinal. He would appeal to the man for his fair compensation. LaBarge had been under his control, after all.
He felt a flare of righteous anger in his belly, and it was such a relief from the previous emptiness that D'Artagnan made no attempt to check it. He let it grow into a blaze of fire as he went to saddle his horse, ready to confront the Cardinal.
Aramis trying to get to the bottom of D'Artagnan's unhappiness is next. Please review!