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The pounding of hooves sounded thru the streets of Paris. Men, women and children turned towards the sound, seeing a group of 10 or more riders dressed in black uniforms, also known as the musketeers. Leading the group on his gray steed was the man many feared and all respected, the captain of the musketeers, D'artagan. He was the man all young musketeers wanted to become, who didn't fear anything. Whenever D'artagan would hear that he just scoff, he had fears the fear of not being able to save his king, the fear of losing one of his friends. Looking behind him he saw Athos, Aramis, and Porthos his friends, family and mentors. Together they rode down the streets of Paris.
HOURS BEFORE
D'artagan walked into the grand ball room, kneeling before his majesty the young king Phillipe. It has been a year since the kings were switched it was a long and stressful year, but after months of talking to the courts they were convinced it was nothing more than another attempt against the king, ending in the only one taking the hit being D'artagan. If it wasn't for Aramis and his daughter Lisa he would surely be dead. Louie was sent to a home in the country where he is living a quiet and peaceful live. D'artagan wishes he could see him, Louie was his son after all, but it was too risky. The sound of someone clearing their throat snapped him out of his trance.
"Your majesty has asked for me?" D'artagan asked keeping his head bowed.
Phillipe frowned it felt wrong to see his father kneeling before him, the man should be beside him not on the ground, but if the truth got out it would be consider treason and death. "Yes, I have a request for you." He started. "I have received a letter from King Richard, stating that his daughter is coming to Paris. I have offered them to stay at the palace during their stay." Phillipe stood from his chair with a deep sigh having had enough he motioned everyone out of the room leaving only them. "Father please stand, for I cannot bare to see you kneel before me."
D'artagan looked up hearing his voice tired and weak, standing to his full height he barely had enough time to stretch when he was hit full force by Phillipe into a hug. D'artagan smiled returning the hug laying a kiss on his head. "You must be strong Phillipe and not worry about me."
Phillipe shucked his head burying his head deeper into D'artagan's chest. "You should be standing by my side guiding me, supporting me, being my father."
D'artagan signed, his chest tighten in pain at hearing his boy's words filled with pain and sadness. "Phillipe to the world you are my king and I am nothing more than the captain of your musketeers. I too am saddened by this, but if this is the price I must pay for my treason against France then so be it for it allows me to be by your side." D'artagan pulled back a little just enough to see his face. "Please remember that even if I can never physically treat you like my son outside these walls, my blood runs thru you, and in my heart you will always be. You are my son and I your father never, never forget that."
Phillipe understood, he really did but after so many years in that prison he has missed the affection and love of his parents. He has the one of his mother and even though a mother's love is unconditional, Phillipe wished to freely enjoy his fathers. Letting out a ragged breath he nodded indicating he was accepting his words.
D'artagan pulled back stopping at a distance deemed respectful. "His majesty was saying?"
Phillipe was amazed at how quickly D'artagan's demeanor changed his face void of any emotions completely stoic, his eyes guarded giving away nothing. Taking his example Phillipe turned around quickly gaining control of himself before addressed him as the king he was. "As I was saying the king's daughter will be arriving today at midday, I want you Athos, Aramis, Portos, and any men of your choice to intercept them on their way here then escort them back here." Phillipe ordered walking back to his chair.
"As you wish. Will that be all?" The musketeer asked getting ready to leave.
"Yes, that is all." Phillipe answered trying not to look directly at him. D'artagan bowed turning on his heels he moved towards the door.
"D'artagan!" Phillipe called, D'artagan stopped his hand on the handle without turning around. "Be safe." The king whispered sounding more like a child than a king.
D'artagan turned his head slightly towards Phillipe giving him a small nod as he walked out. Phillipe signed putting his head into his hands he allowed a few tears to fall, not noticing someone had entered the room. The young king jumped when a hand was placed on his shoulder.
"Mother?" Phillipe crocked, breathing heavily trying to gain some control of both his breath and heart.
"I am sorry, I did not mean to startle you." Anne said giving him a motherly smile which quickly turned into a frown having seen his tears. "Phillipe, my son why are you upset?"
Phillipe took a deep breathing, raising his eyes bright blue eyes to his mother's light brown ones. Anne could never get tired of seeing his eyes they were his father's eyes. "I don't think I can handle this."
Anne looked at him confused and worried. "Do what my son? Being king?"
Phillipe shucked his head. "Fa-D'artagan mother, I can't bare seeing him bow or kneel before me, him addressing me as my captain. It feels wrong and-and disrespectful to him, to my father. Not being able to hug him ever I want to or need to." Anne's heart clenched at her son's words, for the first time he was talking like the 18 year old boy and not the king of France. "He's my father for god sakes! Not some stranger or random man." Phillipe cried Anne pulled him tighter into her arms. It pained her to see him like this he was young and innocent.
"I know it is hard my son, but there is nothing you nor I nor D'artagan can do. I ask for your forgiveness it is my fault that you are going thru this pain. Please believe me when I tell you I never wanted this for you." Anne swallowed hard keeping the tears from falling. "I allowed my love for D'artagan take control, not thinking of the consequences of our actions. We were scared, scared that the king would discover our treason. Yet when I told D'artagan about my pregnancy he showed so much joy. Any chance he had he would come see me, we used to lay in the meadow where he would speak to you." Anne said with a small chuckle at the happy memory. "What I am trying to tell you is no matter how far or distant he will seem from you, please remember he loves you and will always be at your side even if only as the captain of your musketeers. Be patient I know you want to feel the love of your father, but for your protection and his you must keep a distant." Anne pulled back wiping the tears of his face. "I love you so much and so does he never forget that."
Phillipe smiled placing his hand on hers he kissed her palm. "Never mother for I love you both so much."
Anne and Phillipe talked a while longer about everything and nothing. Anne was currently telling him a story about his father, the way her smile grew wider and eyes lit up did not go unnoticed by the young king.
"Mother may I ask you a question?" Phillipe asked.
Anne nodded with a small smile. "Do you still love my father?"
Anne was surprised by the question. "I loved your father very much and although over love can never be I will never stop loving him, he gave me the blessing of being a mother, the knowledge of what true love is." Anne stopped to gather her thoughts careful on choosing her next words. "But I cannot keep seeing him so alone, he deserves to be loved by a woman that can love him back, someone that can take care of him, cherish him. I wish he finds her soon." Anne answered honesty in every word she had said.
Phillipe looked at his mother sadden by her choice of words. "You are willing to give up your love for him, just to see him happy?"
"Yes I would, like I said he deserves a happy life D'artagan has been thru a lot in his life it is the least he deserves." Anne answered. "Now how about we go outside and bid well your father."
Phillipe nodded. "Of course mother as you wish." Phillipe stood stretching his hand out helping his mother to her feet, escorting her towards the door.