A/N: Just the first chapter of an idea I have been toying with since beginning to watch the series a few weeks ago. The plot has taken a beating as the show has developed and I now finally have the idea pinned down to a state I am happy with it. So I thought I would post the first chapter and see what happens. I'm quite looking forward to developing the characters and I'm sure as the series progresses my plot idea will take a few more knocks. Thanks for reading.
"We should leave immediately." Porthos muttered to his friends. "It's a long enough journey back to Paris without the added inconvenience of the carriage and having to find suitable inns along the way each night. It might take us two weeks, and the weather looks to be getting worse."
"We can't leave until Madame finishes her morning preparations." Aramis smirked, leaning back in his chair, his feet resting on an empty stool. "The fire is warm and breakfast is still being served Porthos. Enjoy yourself for once. This is an easy assignment." He raised a mug of beer and smirked across the table at D'Artagnan, who grinned back. The small inn they had stayed in for the past few nights was pleasant enough; the fires were kept warm and the rooms clean. To their surprise, their elegant charge had not complained about the rustic charm of the place and had even dined with them in the common room the night before. Only Athos, their stoic leader, had been absent. A subdued and brooding Athos was nothing new to either of the musketeers and his absence had been noted but not commented on. His absence at breakfast was also nothing of note: the musketeer had been asleep when his friends had returned to their room, three empty bottles beside his bed. The man would probably be nursing a sore head as they set out on their travels that morning.
Two days ago the musketeers had met a storm battered trading ship at the port of Calais, under the cover of darkness. The captain had eagerly introduced them to his cargo, a young woman that the musketeers were tasked with escorting back to her family in Paris. Muttering about women on his ship, the captain had hurried off, leaving the girl alone with the musketeers, the freezing rain and wind whipping around them. The girl, who had been introduced to them as Madame de la Fere, had gone pale as she stared back at them.
"Please call me Ariene." She had murmured as Aramis stepped forward to great her. Athos had visibly flinched as his friend had spoken the lady's name and it was with concern that she had gazed at the man. He had not spoken to any of them since they had settled Ariene in her room late that first night.
"Should we rouse Athos?" Their newest recruit asked innocently as he cut some bread from the loaf the landlady had place in front of them. "We wouldn't want him to miss breakfast."
'He'll rouse himself when he wants to lad." Porthos growled, scowling at the breakfast table. "And we'll leave as soon as he does. I'd like to get back to Paris this side of Christmas."
"Athos is a little more…subdued than normal." D'Artagnan remarked. "Do you think something is wrong with him?"
"There's plenty wrong with him." Aramis remarked cheerfully. "Never told any of us what it is though. One day perhaps he will enlighten us, until then we will continue to make sure he gets home all right and doesn't choke on his own vomit. D'Artagnan, I'd be more concerned about Athos if he suddenly started spouting his feelings out in poetry."
"Yes, that's much more your style." Porthos teased his friend, causing D'Artagnan to chuckle."
"Why are you all sitting around at this hour?" A barked complaint announced the arrival of their friend, dressed in his cloak already with his hat pulled down around his face. "We should be ready to leave. Pack up your belongings and get the horses ready. D'Artagnan, fetch our passenger."
"Good morning to you too Athos." Aramis grinned cheerfully as Athos tore bread from the loaf and turned to glare at his cheerful friends. "I trust you slept well."
"Not as well as you apparently. Come on. It's a long ride back to Paris with a carriage."
"I told you." Porthos nudged Aramis as the three companions stood, D'Artagnan to hurry their lady companion and the others to arrange their travel.
The horses were saddled and the bags packed a long while before D'Artagnan reappeared, this time with Madame de la Fere on his arm. The lady wore her red hair in a braid down her back, the rest of her body hidden under a thick cloak. Her skin was pale in the cold weather and she greeted her guards with a small smile.
"Good morning Madame de la… er.. Ariene." Aramis addressed her uncomfortably as she raised an eyebrow. "Please allow me to assist you into the carriage, and we will be on our way shortly."
"Will our journey not take three times as long if I am to travel in a carriage?" She asked as she regarded the ornate contraption the musketeers had rented. "I would prefer to ride. It will be quicker, and less conspicuous."
"A woman riding alone with four men will be more conspicuous than four men guarding a carriage." Porthos pointed out and she nodded.
"But five men riding together is the most inconspicuous you can get." She pulled off her cloak and revealed that she had dressed herself in gear similar to that which the musketeers themselves were wearing. The men gaped at her in confusion, unsure where to look and how to react. Ariene wore trousers, cut for men that were tight around her hips and showed off rather a lot more of her shape than the musketeers were used to seeing in a clothed women. The coat she wore, while similar in design to the one Athos wore every day, was tight around her chest in ways it could never be around his. She pulled a hat from under the cloak and tucked her hair up into it. While the disguise would not bear any scrutiny as the fine lines of her face did not resemble any man they knew, and the curves of her body betrayed her immediately, the clothes would allow her to ride a horse without any questions being raised.
Secrecy was a major part of their mission. Treville had imparted on them the importance that as few people knew of their charge's arrival back into Paris as possible. One by one, Aramis, Porthos and D'Artagnan turned to Athos, seeking his approval for the ladies plan. Athos, who had not taken any notice of the arrival of D'Artagnan with Ariene, was now staring at the woman, his lips slightly apart. It was obvious to those who knew him best that there was a war going on behind his eyes as the man struggled to find words. After a few long moments, Athos gave a curt nod and then turned back to his own preparations. Not long after that, the five were mounted and on their way, the carriage left behind in Paris.
D'Artagnan rode close to Ariene for the first leg of their journey, intrigued by the idea of this woman dressed as a man and pretending to be a man. The low voices of the two chattering together calmed the mood and soon Porthos and Aramis joined in, the conversation turning to the past. Only Athos rode ahead, silent and focused on the road.
"My Uncle wishes that I return to Paris." Ariene was answering D'Artagnan's query. The young man had asked her why she was travelling in the middle of winter. "I believe it is for political reasons, although I am sure the same reasons could have waited for spring in the mind of anyone else. My Uncle is very used to getting his own way."
"Who is your Uncle?"
"I believe you know him." Her eyes sparkled. "His name is Louis." The small party stopped suddenly as Aramis and Porthos pulled up their mounts and stared at her.
"You are the King's Niece? And we are letting you ride around dressed as a man? We're going to get hanged for this." Aramis looked worried. "Did you know about this?" He demanded, raising his voice to reach Athos, who hadn't stopped at the revelation. The man didn't answer and Aramis spurred his horse on to catch up with their friend.