This is actually the first time I feel the need to apologize before posting a story. It's totally not my fault, I swear!
I was watching the show with a friend, I told her I was writing an Athos slash story, and she said, full of dread, that she sure hoped I was not pairing him up with Rochefort. Completely appalled, I answered: "Of course not! How would those two end up together?", and bang! - there was this in my head. I shuddered and tried to get rid of it, but it just would not go away! It just stuck in my head until I finally caved and wrote it down. And then it simmered on my hard disk, demanding to be let loose on innocent, unsuspecting readers.
Of course my friend, who started it all, denies all responsibility and won't even read it further than the first part. Because, oh yes, it just would not leave me alone, and now it's kind of a trilogy.
My mind is a scary place sometimes.
So, what I posted here is just the start of the story. You can read a bit and see if you would like to read the rest, which can be found on my AO3 account. Just go to Archive of Our Own and search for fuxfell, and you will find it. I can't post it here, because it would be torn down fast enough to leave burn marks.
Because, as you can imagine, any story involving Rochefort would not be pretty. This is the most disturbing thing I cranked out so far. It contains flat out rape (no dancing around calling it non-con), drug use, humiliation and a lot of craziness, mostly on Rochefort's part. Because let's face it, the man is mad as a hatter.
Still, even if I loathe the guy, there's something about him that fascinates me. I just dig those dark, brooding, obsessive types. And poor Athos has to suffer for it.
Oh, and it's basically PWP.
You've been warned.
Frowning, Athos throws one last glance on the scrap of paper in his hands before crushing it and stuffing it in his pockets.
The Comte de Rochefort requests your presence in his lodgings. Tonight, at the twentieth hour. Timeliness is requested.
Signed with a lazily scrawled "R."
Damn. What could Rochefort want from him? Athos eyes the entrance to the pompous mansion suspiciously. Is he making a mistake, coming here?
Rochefort is a bastard, and he hates the man from the bottom of his heart. Still, he is First Minister now, the king's confidante. You don't ignore a summons from the First Minister.
And would Rochefort try something underhanded in is own home? The man is sly and slick as a worm, always making sure he comes up clean under scrutiny. Making sure none of his crimes can be traced back to him.
If he was planning something nefarious, he would not ask for a meeting in his home.
Surely not.
Squaring his shoulders and putting his face in neutral, Athos lifts the heavy knocker and lets it fall back with a resonating noise. Shortly after, the door swings open, showing the distinguished figure of what had to be Rochefort's majordomo, an elderly man in a sombre suit - looking more regal than his master ever did.
With a respectful bow, the man makes way for Athos to enter, closing the door behind him and gingerly accepting Athos' hat and coat.
"The Comte is expecting you in his office, sir", he says, every word pronounced with care. "If you would follow me, please?"
Athos just nods, not able to shake the foreboding he has about this, telling himself he is being paranoid. He follows the butler through gloomy halls full of dark, gloomy furniture and equally gloomy portraits of what were probably a long line of Comtes and Comtesses, and shudders inwardly. Gloomy seems to be the overall theme. This was where Rochefort grew up? No wonder the guy lost most of his marbles. The atmosphere is stifling, daunting.
The majordomo knocks at a dark and polished door, then opens it. "Your visitor has arrived, my lord", he says respectfully, and with another perfectly executed bow indicates for Athos to enter.
With a deep breath, Athos steps into the room, instantly feeling somewhat relieved. Obviously, Rochefort is not so fond of the dismal pompousness and oppressive air of the mansion himself, because his own room, while still quite opulent, is held in lighter colours, and modern furnishings, beside being well lit, scores of candles burning in sconces along the walls.
Athos relaxes a little and nods to Rochefort, who looks up from a parchment he is reading at his desk. The man looks slightly dishevelled, as he always does, his blond hair tousled, as if he was driving his fingers through it repeatedly, his black shirt open over his muscular chest, a row of chains and pendants peeking out from under the fabric. His dark blue eyes are intense as he gazes at Athos, returning the nod.
The man is a bastard, but even Athos has to admit he is a handsome one. No wonder he managed to win the queen's favour. And the king's.
The door closes behind Athos with a soft click, and Rochefort puts the parchment down on his desk, gesturing at one of the rich leather chairs placed in front of his desk.
"Please, have a seat", he says in his pleasant, full baritone.
How can such a comely shell hide so much rottenness underneath?
Athos sits down, returning Rochefort's stare coolly. "Well?", he just says. No reason for small talk, after all. This is not a dinner party.
Rochefort gets up with a smooth motion and procures two glasses from a sideboard behind him. He holds up a decanter with a dark red liquid, probably port, and raises his eyebrows questioningly. Athos just shrugs. He does not care what he drinks, as long as it helps speed things up. He wants out of here.
Rochefort fills two glasses and passes one to Athos, sitting back in his chair, sipping. His gaze passes through Athos now, not really seeing him, his mind obviously elsewhere.
Athos takes a mouthful of the wine as well. Port, as expected. Strong, sweet, probably costing more than he makes in a year as a musketeer. Something that would have been found in his wine cellar in the old days.
Athos shakes the thought away. The Comte de la Fère no longer exists. Neither does his wine cellar.
He clears his throat, and Rochefort's eyes snap to him, his mind drawn back to the present.
"My apologies", he says, smoothly.
Athos shifts impatiently, taking another sip of the wine. He's not interested in Rochefort's courtesy. He wants the guy to talk, already. "So, what's this about?", he asks, bluntly, not seeing any need to play nice with the man.
Rochefort smiles faintly. "So... direct", he murmurs. "As you wish. There is a matter I need to discuss with you. A rather... delicate matter. Concerning the dauphin." He leans back, drinking, observing Athos over the rim of his glass, those intense eyes missing nothing.
Athos nearly chokes on his own sip of wine. Dear mother of god. This can not be good.
"The... dauphin?" Athos asks, his voice carefully neutral. "I hope he is well? Is there any cause for concern?"
"Oh, the queen's son is alive and well", Rochefort answers, and the choice of words is not lost on Athos. He takes another deep gulp of wine, letting the glass hide his face.
This is not good. Not good at all.
"I was worried, for a moment", Athos replies, ignoring the implication of Rochefort's words. The room suddenly feels stifling and hot. He takes another sip of the cool wine, hoping it would help.
"Well", Rochefort says, putting down his glass while watching Athos like a hawk. "There's still the problem that, in fact, there is no dauphin."
Athos jumps up. "What are you...", he starts, but does not finish the sentence. The room is suddenly spinning around him, and he has to catch himself on the back of the heavy leather chair to keep on his feet. His head feels light, his thoughts tangled.
And Rochefort is still watching with that faint smile on his face.
Athos' gaze is drawn to his nearly empty glass. "You bastard", he slurs, his tongue suddenly clumsy in his mouth. "What...?"
Rochefort's smile widens slightly. "Nothing too bad, don't worry", he answers. "You will be out in a few seconds, but it won't kill you."
The last words ring hollow in Athos's ears as the floor comes rushing up to meet his face. Then there is only darkness.
So, this is as far as I dare go here. You're very welcome to read the rest on Archive of Our Own. Also, feel free to leave me a comment, though I dread to think what people might have to say about this ;)