Cantique de Noël

by BootsnHats

A Christmas Drabble: Imagine it's Christmas Eve in Paris, 1630, in the common room of a large hôtel located in the rue de Tournon. Feel free to add in a few of your own Musketeers lounging about, but - as always happens when they are present - the Inseparables dominant the cozy, fire lit room. Though he is not mentioned, imagine Treville is here among his men as well.

It was a beautiful book, every chapter exquisitely illuminated. The first bore tiny twinkling stars, a sun brighter than old sol and brilliant flowers and vines encircling every indented capital. The last, snarling dragons and tiny golden cities. Between the first and last chapters; fiery wheels, sky chariots and enormous behemoths.

d'Artagnan, sharing this ritual for the first time, sat before the fire roasting chestnuts. Athos sprawled in a chair by their puppy.

Porthos had propped himself against Aramis' chair. The marksman smiled softly, opened the book he knew by heart and began. "For unto us a child is born..."

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A/N - I'm probably cheating as there are likely more than a hundred words in the summary (and a LOT more here), but it seemed a shame not to take advantage of the opportunity to set the scene. A drabble can be at the same time limiting and exhilarating, even when it actually works. I'm not particularly good at packing a story that paints a vivid picture into a hundred words and when I try, it usually takes me hours to hone it down to just 100 words! This one came together in about fifteen minutes - a very unusual feat for me.

While the internet tells me Cantique de Noël literally translates as the First Noel; in this iteration, it has been used as the first line of the song - O Holy Night.

And as always, this has been a work of transformative fan fiction. The characters and settings in this story belong to the BBC, it's successors and assigns. The little bit of story itself is the intellectual property of the author. No copy right infringement has been perpetrated for financial gain.