The sun was already going down, letting its soft rays tickle people's faces as a farewell and a hope of better tomorrow. The streets of frequently noisy Paris got empty as soon as a huge orange disappeared into the veil of clouds, darkening the soft blue shade of early evening sky. Evening hours were never Parisian people's favorite. Every noble man and woman apart from never visiting any street alone, made it a rule never to show their faces anywhere outside after 9 pm. They thought the evening was a perfect time for robbers, thieves and even murderers. So to avoid empty pockets and sometimes even half naked bodies, aristocracy decided to spend their boring night times in their houses – the safest places in the whole wide world.
This rule wasn't something everyone had a heart to obey. Especially considering Aramis' secret (very well-known in Paris) priorities and desires, Athos' way of "saving himself" and Porthos' never decreasing want of cheating. So if anyone with enough bravery inside to roam down the streets saw one of them or even all three brothers in arms together, wouldn't be surprised at all. These three, known as "inseparables", had irons in their broad chests, knowing nothing of fear and injustice.
That evening was as ordinary as the previous ones. Aramis walking in shadows, with hat over his eyes, covering thin scars earned from another lovely woman's husband, Porthos' footsteps echoing through the empty street, accompanied by the sound of full purse waving in the air, scaring rats and mice. As for Athos, he kept stumbling on his feet, barely able to keep a balance. If a small space on the sheet was enough to describe the other two, a man with a huge heart filled with kindness and honor knew nothing of that word. Athos himself was a whole new world to people who knew him and a great challenge to someone who wanted to reach beyond the walls of his tortured heart. Despite being moody and unreachable, the swordsman had a respect everyone dreamed of. Even Aramis and Porthos often tried to act like him, copy his manners and tone, for which Athos sometimes scolded them.
"Imitating someone doesn't mean losing your own selves, gentlemen. Please never do it again unless you want to live in the world of lies". – He used to say it every time he would catch them in the act.
"But Athos" – Aramis dared to argue, but a raised eyebrow was enough to shut him up for his own good.
That evening these three troublemakers were walking together in their early described manners. Porthos, known as the "ear damager" between the musketeers, kept singing loudly. Although his voice was horrible, it had a good effect on Athos as he would stay awake and make it to his apartment somehow. Poor Aramis had to bear it all the time, silently begging god to steal his friend's voice even for several hours. Nothing was more annoying than Porthos in his good mood, especially after winning a great amount of money, stealing them from red guards, or "Bloodied Puppets" as he called them.
Aramis was in the middle of his praying, when a man jumped in front of him with a dagger in his hand. The marksman and his friends took their times to observe a dark skinned bald man, almost as tall and broad as Porthos with wild eyes. If looks could kill, three brothers would be taking their last breaths by then.
"Give me every damn thing you have in your empty pockets or I will kill him!" – He growled, pushing his dagger harder against a young boy's throat.
Athos was the first one to notice a boy with average height, dark brown eyes and long straight hair. He seemed to be very calm, showing no fear or shock, just kept his expression steady as a stone.
To be honest, the swordsman was impressed. Young people usually feared for their newly began lives and would do anything to avoid possible death. Athos could only laugh at that. Death would come someday whether you wanted it or not, so why wait more? Fearing it was ridiculous and annoying in his opinion. But this one, standing steady on his feet, eyes holding a glowing fire within, fists clutched at his sides, ready to strangle the man by the first given chance. He looked so much like Thomas!
"Easy, man, he's just a boy". – Porthos tried to talk normally, holding his hands up to prove he meant no harm, but the man seemed stubborn.
"I give no damn to his age! Give me money if you want to save him, damn you!" – He growled again, pulling at the boy's hair roughly.
The trio exchanged worried looks. Of course, it would be a shame to let this crazy man kill an innocent boy just for money. None of them killed easily, without mourning it later. They knew the cost of life (Well, two of them at least) and would do anything in their powers to avoid any kind of injustice.
"Let him go, I will give you what you want". – Athos said, carefully reaching for his pocket to take out a small purse filled with coins.
The man narrowed his eyes, while glancing at the other two, gesturing them to follow their friend's steps.
Aramis obeyed without thinking, managing to persuade a seething Porthos after a good five minutes of begging. It wasn't like the large man didn't care about the boy or his life, he was angry with himself for being unable to do anything in this unfair situation. His mind kept looking for different solutions, but finally gave in and obeyed the cruel fate, earning a brief nod of pride from Aramis.
"Here, take it, just let the boy go". – Athos threw their purses towards the man's direction, waiting for him to release the fellow.
"You, dirty liars!" – The man shouted, - "You think I will believe it's all you have? Give me everything, god damn it!"
"We are the king's musketeers. We can only dream of a well payment". – Aramis tried, keeping his voice soft and light, hoping it would melt the ice in the stranger's chest.
"You are the king's musketeers? You?! Look at him!" – The man pointed at Athos wildly, - "He is clearly rich and wealthy aristocrat".
Athos frowned, a dark scowl settling over his handsome features. Being addressed as a noble always made him feel uncomfortable.
"I am just a poor musketeer, stop talking nonsense." – He warned. His magical glare worked for a minute and the man stood dazed, his expression filled with something no one could give a name.
Meanwhile the fellow felt the man loosening his hold on the dagger and took a chance to free himself, but his tormentor appeared to be quicker and before the boy could fully release from his hold, the man managed to stab his right arm, making him yell in sudden pain.
Aramis took out his pistol and shot the man in his leg, forcing him to drop the dagger and clutch his injured part.
"Mark my words: If my eyes ever see you again, you will meet your creator". – Athos' steely voice sent shivers through the wounded's spine, breath hitching painfully in his throat. He spat in their direction before barely managing to stand up and leaving the area.
The musketeers stood still, trying to pull themselves together, almost forgetting the boy for a second.
"Thank you". – The boy said, looking at them gratefully.
"You are welcome." – Aramis answered softly. – "What's your name, young man?"
"D'artagnan. Charles D'artagnan".
"Nice to meet you, D'artagnan". – Aramis said. – "Where are you from and what brings you here at this late hour?"
"I am from Gascony. I came here with my father to join the musketeers, but my dad died during the journey so I came here alone. As for being here, the reason is that I have no place to stay."
"Oh, sorry about your father". – Aramis said softly, gazing at the boy with pity.
"And what are your names?" – D'artagnan asked rather shyly. He didn't miss the look one of the men was giving him. Something kind of nostalgia, desperation and a bit of admiration. It surprised him, but he kept his mouth shut.
"I am Aramis and these two are Porthos and Athos". – Aramis said, pointing at each of his friends while saying their names.
They nodded briefly. D'artagnan mimicked them with a small smile, again not missing the look on Athos' face.
"It was nice to meet you and thanks for saving me. I am in your debt forever. I hope I will pay you with the same kindness someday". – The boy said confidently.
"Nah, don't bother about that, D'artagnan, you owe us nothing. We will be paid by god and it's enough for us". – Porthos said with a smile.
"Still, I feel like one day we will be even. But for now I must go. Thanks again".
Something burned in Athos' chest hearing the boy's last words. He couldn't describe what it was, but some part of his heart filled instantly when he first noticed him. The Gascon woke up some forgotten feelings in his heart, leaving a chaos inside. He didn't know the boy yet, but it wasn't hard to tell that he was indeed a good person. For an unknown reason, his mind and heart kept begging him not to let this boy go. Athos thought for a second, before a brilliant idea flashed in his head.
"Wait!" – He almost shouted, making D'artagnan freeze in his spot. Aramis and Porthos nearly jumped out of their skins. It was so unnatural from a man like Athos, but the swordsman paid no heed to his manners then.
D'artagnan turned around with a questioning expression on his face. He felt something warm spreading through his chest while looking Athos in the eye.
"You said you wanted to be a musketeer, right?"
"Yes, what does it have to do with you three?" – D'artagnan asked astonished, but noticing their uniforms, he understood immediately.
"Oh, you are the musketeers!" – He exclaimed like a child who just got a new toy.
"Yes, we are and we could help you in becoming one of us, if you want, of course." – Athos offered, silently begging god to make the boy agree.
"I dream of being one of you every day and night". – D'artagnan smiled happily, but winced in sudden pain in his arm.
Aramis was immediately hovering over him, grabbing his arm gently, he began examining the wound with a great care.
"Oh lord, we forgot about your arm, but don't worry, it's just a scratch, you will be fine". – He smiled reassuringly.
"Come with us, we will speak to our captain about you and fix your wound". – Was he imagining things, or Athos' voice sounded almost begging?
The swordsman stood still, waiting for D'artagnan's answer impatiently.
"All right". – He said finally, watching Athos' expression carefully, who was trying very hard to hold back a sigh of relief.
"You can stay in my apartment as I have a spare bed". – Aramis offered.
"Thanks again, you are so kind to me". – The boy was grateful beyond limits.
"Don't mention it".
With Porthos and Aramis' hands around his shoulders, they made their way to the Garrison to get some rest. D'artagnan couldn't be any happier that time. He felt a deep respect for the trio. Although, not knowing the reason behind Athos' looks, he somehow knew, the swordsman was a rare person and he was lucky to meet him.