The Result of Passion

By: Tidia

Beta: None, just me so I own my errors.

Important Note: Draw Your Swords by Blood From The Thorn is one of my favorite stories, and it got me thinking. I ran it by Blood From The Thorn who graciously gave me permission and then entertained my million ideas. LOL So, here we have a different Athos. Three parts and away we go. Thank you for all the kind comments, readings, faves, etc. It is all appreciated and inspiring.


Part 1

They convened away from the garrison and prying eyes at Athos's home with multiple wine bottles at the ready as Athos took off his locket, placing it at the center of the table along with the box they had found in the assassination attempt.

"Forget-me-nots?" Aramis asked, his finger gently tracing one of the dried flowers.

"My wife's favorite." Athos drank from the bottle needing to numb himself as he revealed so much. "I thought her hung by my order as the Comte for killing my brother, for her deception, but she survived and is now an agent for the Cardinal." He drank more, swallowing more than breathing.

"I'm sorry, my friend." Porthos was grim, looking towards the others to provide some footing. There were no platitudes that could be offered.

d'Artagnan stared at the pressed flowers, eyes widening.

"I need to stop her. Set things right." Athos put the bottle down. "We need to stop the Cardinal, his devious plans and to save the Queen."

"We need a plan," Porthos added.

"Treville knows?" Aramis asked, his hand reaching slightly forward on the table in support of his friend. Athos nodded. Treville had known from the beginning that he had punished his wife. It was more difficult to explain how she was alive, wreaking havoc with the Cardinal.

d'Artagnan licked his lips. "Does your wife have dark hair, a scar on her neck?"

Athos's eyes narrowed at the accurate description. "Yes. She has been going by the name de Winter and Madame Chappelle. Do you know her?"

d'Artagnan slowly nodded, looking down in avoidance. "When I first came to Paris after my father—I met her and allowed myself to be seduced by her."

"That seemed like a good idea?" Porthos scoffed, shifted closer to Athos.

Athos appreciated the support. He stood in reaction to the revelation, chair scraping the floor as he turned his back, going towards the window. "And?" He thought of d'Artagnan and Anne laughing at him. He could not stop the thoughts, and hoped their relationship went no further than the seduction.

d'Artagnan raised head. "With Vadim she killed the guards, she scared Constance, and was my benefactor, but it was the flowers she left—"

"Stand," Athos gritted out. When d'Artagnan did not move fast enough Athos placed his hands on both sides of the table, lifted it, then barked. "Stand, traitor!" d'Artagnan by his own words had made himself an accomplice in his wife's nefarious crimes and espionage.

"Traitor?" d'Artagnan followed the order.

"One who betrays. The Queen was almost killed because of her," Aramis clarified, showing his unsuitable overprotection stemming from his affair. "Your dealings with that woman-"

"My wife, a murderess." Athos circled him, trying to control his anger for the young man who had deceived him. d'Artagnan had been the only one he had trusted with the story of his home, sworn him to secrecy only to have him in leagues with Anne. His wife only knew cruelty.

They were all standing, but Porthos and Aramis were giving space to d'Artagnan and Athos. "It was a mistake. I had no idea." d'Artagnan tried to find salvation in his words. "I sent her away."

"Draw. Your. Sword." Athos unsheathed his blade. He was not convinced. There was a plot against him, which only d'Artagnan's death would bring to an end.

The younger man did not know how to react; looking to the two other men he found no support. Aramis and Porthos would stand with Athos.

"Athos," d'Artagnan beseeched.

"Draw your sword," Athos repeated. Athos's rage would be the Gascon's undoing. This was a match d'Artagnan would not have a chance in winning regardless that it was misguided passion rather than his mind, which was ruling.

d'Artagnan's defense was insufficient as Athos was relentless in the limited space that had d'Artagnan trying to avoid corners in order to extend the fight.

The slice to the younger man's unprotected forearm cut deep enough to cause d'Artagnan's hand to release the blade. d'Artagnan's other hand went to staunch the flow of blood as Athos kicked his blade away and charged at the Gascon, pinning him against the wall. A sweep at his legs had d'Artagnan falling; another kick had the Gascon on his knees.

Athos took in deep breaths of air as he readied himself to deliver the killing blow. He drew the blade back to bring this all to end. Anne could not poison another person against him. He would stop the conspiracy one person at a time.

Aramis pushed Athos causing the blade to slice d'Artagnan along the younger man's clavicle towards his upper arm. "You don't want to do this, Athos." Aramis held the blade in his gloved hand.

Athos pushed past the sharpshooter to get back to d'Artagnan. "He had relations with my wife. Betrayed us. . ." He pointed the blade again as the younger man had not moved from his knees.

Porthos came up from behind Athos, physically moving him away from d'Artagnan. "Step away."

Aramis put his hands up between d'Artagnan and Athos. "He made a mistake before he even knew us. He didn't know us, didn't know she was your wife."

Athos struggled momentarily against Porthos's grip and Aramis's words. His breathing sped up as the red haze dropped. He watched d'Artagnan stumble to his feet to grab his sword, his hands then attempted to staunch his wounds. "What have I done?"

He had broken the bounds of friendship and brotherhood, almost destroying someone who only had given him respect. His wife, their passion had led him to a total disregard of control to favor embroiled emotions that were directed at the wrong person. d'Artagnan had not known there was a connection. His mind had taken him down a dark path.

"Are you all right?" Aramis asked, and Athos wanted to hear the answer, needed the answer.

The young man looked down, made his way to the door.

"d'Artagnan, I-" Athos called out to nothing.


TBC