I blame the #burketeers of Twitter - more specifically, this is for Rosey, Cheryl, BabzieD, Julie and… Tom Burke's Hair? ;) Anyway it's weird. I wrote it during lunch break. I apologize. Really, it's weird.


Roger and the Apple Tree

It all started with Athos walking the stables in the morning, just as usual, wandering over to the stall where his black stallion resided. He had a carrot in his hand, absently scraping some dirt off with his thumbnail. Something was strange though. He couldn't pinpoint what it was, but all of his solder's instincts told him that something was not as it was meant to be. Something was odd.

He was in a good mood. Even that was strange. He felt… Good. His muscles weren't aching, his head was not hammering and his eyes could see straight. He could walk in a straight line and felt ridiculously upbeat.

The stables lay empty except for the horses. Jacques, their stable boy, was nowhere to be seen. Most likely he was mucking out a stall somewhere or cleaning up tack in the back room. It didn't matter because Athos was not in need of his help, he was just there for his morning talk with Roger. Athos enjoyed the silence in there, the calm and serenity a stable brought forth. All hear was the horses moving around in their boxes, some crunching as their teeth met the dried grass.

But serenity instantly turned to worry as he approached Rogers stall, seeing already in a distance that the door stood wide open and the horse was nowhere to be seen. Athos twirled around. All the other horses seemed to be there, but not Roger.

Hurrying out of the stable, Athos picked a direction and started walking. The walk quickly changed to a jog, which then turned into a full run as his feet moved along with the rhythm of his heartbeat. His feet seemed to be moving by themselves, taking control over his body as they moved faster and faster.

It didn't take him long before he was outside of the Parisian border, open fields lay upon him. Something he could not explain - call it instinct if you wish - made him move to the tallest hill where the fresh, tall spring grass laid untouched, and a massive tree stood tall just where the ground reached its peak. Athos' legs carried him swiftly over to him, before he came to a stop, slowing down to a halt. He was out of breath, the run taking a toll on him, and he bent over to place his hands on his knees, forcing his lungs to take slower, deliberate breaths.

Looking down to his hands as his breath slowly came back to normal, he realized he was still holding the carrot meant for his friend. Where was he?

Something suddenly landed close to him, and rolled over to his foot. An apple?

Straightening his back and looking up, he turned his eyes to the massive tree. Massive was an understatement. It was ginormous. It was the biggest tree he had ever seen, and it puzzled him to why he had never seen it before. He was sure if Aramis, Porthos, d'Artagnan and him himself grabbed hands around it, they wouldn't reach all the way around. And it was tall, tall as a building. The branches were thick and wide, looking sturdy.

Another apple fell to his feet, and he put his hand to his forehead to cover his eyes, squinting against the sun to see the tree better. It was apparently an apple tree. The heavy branches were covered in light green leaves, apples hanging off every branch. And as his eyes travel, they suddenly dead stopped as he noticed something – someone – he knew very well.

"Roger?"

He whispered the horse's name, because this could just not be happening. It was against all laws of physics; it was just insane and completely impossible. But there he was, his stunning black stallion was sitting on a wide branch, straining his long neck to reach apples that were hanging all around him. As Athos spoke, he stopped in the motion, turning his head and pricked his ears upon seeing his master as a smile crossed his face.

Wait – what?

Some part of Athos' mind tried to tell him that horses didn't smile. Not even a smile, it was more like a wide grin, one of those Porthos would do when catching Aramis hanging out of a window.

Athos had no words, his mouth fell open and his eyes would not stop staring. Something was not right here.

"Good morning monsieur."

Athos eyes almost popped out of his head. Was Roger speaking to him? No. Nope. That… Nope.

"You seem surprised?"

Athos had no reply, his horse was not meant to be talking to him, well to anyone at all. Horses could not talk. They whinnied and snorted but they could certainly not talk. But Roger was looking at him, and was apparently waiting for an answer.

Athos swallowed. Over and over. But then he decided that since this was not actually happening, he could just go with it and see where the stream would take him.

"I did not know you could talk, that's all."

"Of course I can talk. I talk all the time."

"I've never heard you."

"You never listen."

Athos frowned. "Of course I listen."

"Not when I'm talking."

"Have you been speaking out loud?"

Roger seemed to be thinking that question over for a moment, before smiling defeated. "No, there's a chance I've never done so."

Athos shook his head. This was just weird. His horse was not talking. He could not possible talk. "So Roger… What are you doing in the tree?"

Roger smiled widely again, before reaching his head up, grabbing an apple with his teeth and happily chewing it. As he swallowed he once again smiled to Athos, his teeth dripping from apple juice.

"I'm having breakfast."

"That doesn't explain why you are up in the tree." Athos stated, folding his arms across his chest, an eyebrow rising. This was still insane. He was not talking to his horse. He could not be. He was most likely going mad.

"The best apples are the ones the sun's rays can reach at the top. I couldn't reach them unless I got up here."

"How did you even make it up the tree? Horses can not climb."

"Don't be ridiculous Athos. Of course I didn't climb the tree."

"So…"

"I jumped."

"You jumped up the tree, landed on a branch, to sit there and eat apples."

"Yes."

"Well, are you coming down?"

Suddenly Roger's eyes sparkled, and he leaned forward, resting on his front hooves, straining his neck to reach down towards Athos. It was easy to tell that the horse wanted something, because he looked like a child with a bucket full of sweets.

"Oh, are we going on a mission?"

"No, not today."

Roger leaned back, frowning – well, as much as horses can frown.

"Oh, so I'm still on holiday? I do deserve a holiday from the last mission. It's not fair that I have to carry both you and Aramis home just because he hit his head. Belle could've carried him."

"We were afraid that he would fall."

"You could've strapped him down. They have strapped you to me plenty of times. You just know Belle won't let anything be tied to her. She is such a diva."

"So you fancy her?"

Roger spluttered, and Athos was pretty sure he could see the horse blush – even through all the fur. "I do not!"

Athos just rolled his eyes, sighing. "You will have a holiday for a few more days, but would you please humor me and make your way down here? Having you above me, sitting in a tree, is a confusing image. Horses are meant to be on the ground."

"Says who?"

"Everyone."

"Prejudices." Roger mumbled. "There is no reason for me to come down when there's so many juicy apples up here."

"I always believed carrots to be your favorite."

"Carrots are the best. But last time I went picking carrots, that farmer chased me with a pitchfork. I didn't like it, he was a bit scary."

"I remember that and I would prefer it if you did not repeat that offense. He was very angry with you."

"But he had so many carrots. And you know I love carrots."

"I do." Athos grinned, and he held up the carrot in his hand for Roger to see. "And if you come down, I will give you this."

Roger's ears pricked straight forward along with his body, and the following second he took a leap out of the tree, landing heavily on the ground just in front of Athos. Stretching his neck he put his muzzle down towards Athos' hands, sniffing the carrot his master was holding. Carefully parting his lips, he closed his teeth around the golden vegetable, gently pulling it out of Athos' hand. The minute Athos let go of it, Roger greedily ate the whole thing, before looking up to meet Athos' eyes.

"Thank you. Are there more?"

"Of course there is. Back at the garrison. Will you come back with me?"

"I will, but only if you give me your word that I can have at least ten more carrots."

"No, you can have two."

"Eight."

"Four."

"Six."

"Five."

"Deal."

Athos let an eyebrow travel upwards as Roger extended his right front hoof for a handshake. Athos couldn't help but to chuckle as he shook it in agreement.


"Athos?"

Athos mumbled something incoherently as he opened his eyes, blinking a couple of times. The first thing he could see when properly opening them, was Aramis' smiling face.

"Good morning to you. Treville wants to see us."

Athos sat up in the bed, running a hand across his face. A dream. It had been a dream, yes, now it actually made sense. Of course Roger couldn't climb trees. Nor did he talk.

Athos blinked in an attempt to get the jackhammer out of his head, wondering if his bucket outside the window had frozen during the night. It was early spring in Paris, and the nights still grew very cold. With a little bit of luck, the bucket would at least be cold enough to give the effect he was looking for.

Aramis grinned as he walked over to the window, hanging himself out to reach for the bucket, pulling it inside for Athos. He had been there other mornings after their late celebrations at the Wren. At Athos had a good routine on things. Get completely wasted. Sleep it off. Then ice bucket and a glass of wine to get the hangover over and done with. It wasn't a perfect plan, but it sure worked for Athos.

"We'll meet you at the garrison." Aramis smiled, tipping his hat before leaving the room.

Athos continued on with the normal procedure – crack the ice, dip your head, then get dressed. His shoulders were stiff, his back was sore and he knew for certainty that this time around, he was actually awake. Getting into all of his gear, he made it down the stairs and walked his way to the garrison. On his way there he passed the market, and bought a bundle of carrots before heading towards the stables. He just had to check something…

Coming inside, it was just like his dream. The stalls laid empty part from the horses, and there was a silence in the air, but not an awkward one, just a calmness that could put any mind at ease. Normally Athos enjoyed it – right now it worried it. Because Jacques who would usually meet anyone walking inside was not there, he was nowhere to be seen, just like in the dream. And rounding a corner, he could clearly see Roger's stall – with the door wide open.

Athos leapt out of the building, and almost collided with Porthos, Aramis and d'Artagnan. Porthos got a hold of his shoulders, holding him firmly in an iron grip as he noticed the worry on Athos' face.

"Athos, Athos, what's wrong?"

"It's Roger – he's not there, he's not inside…"

"Take it easy, I'm sure he's about. Perhaps Jacques took him out for a walk or…"

"No, he wouldn't have, he knows I come by every morning… I bought carrots… They are his favorite…"

"Athos, you need to slow down." Aramis said, placing a hand on Athos' chest as their leader wiggled underneath the hands belonging to his brothers. "We'll find him, just slow down."

"What if he's climbed a tree?"

The silence between them that followed Athos' question was complete. There were no answer to that, but apparently Athos was expecting one as his eyes darted between his brothers. Aramis walked forward, and to an outsider his face was completely blank of any kind of emotions – while the three men before him could clearly read the worry. Not Athos that was, he was riled up and incomprehensive. Aramis placed his hands on Athos' cheeks, forcing the man to look at him, staring into his eyes. Athos instantly knew what he was doing.

"Don't Aramis. You are the concussed one, not me. I just want to find my horse before he climbs a tree."

Aramis was just about to answer when they heard the sound of hoof beats behind them, and they all turned on their heels. Athos exhaled deeply and walked a few steps away from his brothers as he saw Jacques come walking, leading Roger alongside him. The stallion's ears pricked forward and he let out a soft whinny upon the sight of Athos, and a few seconds later Athos was feeding him carrots.

"I apologize Monsieur, he must've escaped. I'm still don't know how but he must've."

"Where did he go?" Athos asked, giving Roger another carrot, feeding him with one hand, stroking his head with the other.

"He was out by the old apple tree, eating the apples fallen to the ground."

"The apple tree on the hill?" Athos stopped, his hand falling down, as he stood stunned. Roger instantly lowered his head, twisted and stretched to reach the carrot that was no longer held out for him.

"Yes." Jacques nodded quickly.

Athos gave a nod to the young lad, before turning to squint at Roger. He felt a tiny bit worried that the horse would actually begin talking, but he seemed to be more interested in the last carrot in Athos' hand. Athos couldn't help but to chuckle, handing Roger the last piece as well.

Athos placed his hand onto Roger's forehead, giving him a scratch just in the whirl of his fur that centered the wide bull's head, before he trailed his fingers up to scratch the top of his neck. His fingers found something, and he pulled it out. Opening his hand, he realized he was holding a leaf, just like the big, green ones from the apple tree.

Sighing loudly, Athos suddenly lifted both his arms to hug Roger's head, just tucking the large black head in between his arms, placing the side of is face towards the wide forehead. In this position, he couldn't help but to whisper to his friend.

"I love you Roger. And I promise you, as long as you don't talk, I will give you as many carrots as you like."

Athos took the loud snort from Roger as an agreement.