Disclaimer: The Musketeers are not mine. I'm just borrowing the concepts and characters for a little while.
Spoilers: None. Takes place early in the first season, though slightly AU due to winter occurring at the wrong time of year. :o)
A/N: This story was semi-inspired by the full moon on Christmas night. It was the first time since 1977 that there had been a full moon on Christmas, and it will not occur again until 2034.
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"It is a beautiful and delightful sight to behold the beauty of the Moon." ~~ Galileo Galilei
"There is nothing in the world more beautiful than the forest clothed to its very hollows in snow." ~~ William Sharp
"The snow reminded me of the beauty and the mystery of creation, of the essential joy that is life." ~~ Orhan Pamuk
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Sometimes he really hated being the youngest of the four of them, really hated being the new recruit instead of a commissioned Musketeer.
Every time they had to camp outdoors, he was tasked with doing all of the menial chores: caring for the horses, collecting firewood, getting water, and on and on. He was given enough to do that he wondered how the three men had survived before he came along.
Once upon a time they had obviously divvied up the tasks that he was now given, but his three friends often made it seem like they had been waiting for a fourth man to join their squad just so they didn't have to do those chores any longer. He had to admit that the sheer amount of work along with the accompanying orders and teasing made him think that they only allowed him to tag along with them on missions strictly for the free labor. It was an uncharitable thought to have, especially as he knew it was a tradition to give the new recruit the lion's share of the work. However, he couldn't help the negativity from creeping in every now again.
A prime example would be this very day. The four of them were on their way back to Paris after the successful completion of another mission. So far, he had been on relatively few missions outside of Paris with the Inseparables, but one thing he had immediately learned was that it was basically his job to practically wait on the other men hand and foot throughout the day and night.
Earlier that day, a storm had hit the region they had been travelling through which caused snow to fall lightly, but constantly, for many hours as they rode through the countryside. It had slowed them down enough that they were forced to camp outside for the night, having been too far away from an inn or town in which to have a warm night's rest. Luckily, the storm had passed over them a while ago, and a bitterly-cold breeze was the only remaining evidence along with the calf-deep snow.
They had managed to find a semi-sheltered place to camp where the snow had hardly touched the ground and had immediately started a fire. However, given how far down the temperatures were sure to dip, they would need much more firewood in order to remain warm and last the night.
And that was how he found himself trudging through calf-deep snow, his feet turning into blocks of ice as he looked for more firewood, while the other three men were sitting by the fire, hopefully making something to eat for dinner and not waiting for him to do it.
He'd already scrounged together a couple of armfuls of wood for the fire and was on his third trip out into the cold, but clear night. As he searched for wood, he was amazed how bright it was and that there was enough light for him to just be able to see where he was going.
Ahead, he saw a dead tree that must have toppled over some time ago and thought it would be good wood to add to his still-small pile that he'd already collected. When he stepped up to the tree, he dropped the wood he'd already gathered and was preparing to break some of the limbs off when he caught a glimpse of the sky.
The trees which he had just passed to get to the dead tree had managed to hide this beautiful sight he was now beholding. Low on the horizon was the full moon surrounded by the thousands – millions – of stars in the heavens. It looked huge compared to the many other times that he'd seen the moon in the night sky.
He stared up at the sight in awe and wonder of God's Creation for long enough that he started to shiver from having stood still for so long, drinking in the beautiful display. Forcing himself to look away, he started to break apart the dead tree when he noticed the landscape extending out from beyond where he was standing.
Stretched ahead of him was a large clearing surrounded by tall pine trees, their branches all laden with snow. Not too far away, the land sloped downward a little and he could easily see all around the snow-filled area.
The moon's glow illuminated the vicinity, casting the whole of the landscape before him in a bright, whitish-bluish glow. Here and there the light made the snow sparkle as if diamonds had been scattered amongst the snowflakes, which caused the ground to twinkle like the stars above him. It was almost as if the sparkling ground before him was a mirror image for the glimmering sky above.
With the wind gently moving through the trees around him, and the sight before and above him, he couldn't help but smile at the boon God had granted him and the joy that now filled his heart, temporarily warming him from the inside out.
Down below, movement caught his attention and he could see a small herd of what looked to be Red Deer crossing the clearing and leaving a line of tracks through the snow as they peacefully made their way across the frozen landscape.
All this time, he had complained about the extra and seemingly-unfair amount of work, and yet if they had not told him to get more firewood, then he would never have seen this magnificent sight surrounding him. It was glorious. God and Nature working together in perfect harmony, and he was in the right place at the right time to behold it.
He watched the deer for a couple of more minutes before another shiver running down his spine spurred him to finish his task. He was just about finished when he heard someone calling for him.
"D'Artagnan!"
He picked up the rest of his pile of wood and started back towards camp, looking over his shoulder and taking one last glimpse of the beautiful sight that he had been blessed enough to witness.
"D'Artagnan!"
This time, he recognized the voice as belonging to Athos and he smiled. The older Musketeer was often aloof with him, though it was times like this when he heard the concern in the man's voice that reminded him that he was fortunate to have found himself friends such as Athos, Porthos, and Aramis.
Hitching the awkward pile up in his arms so he would not lose any of the wood while heading towards where he could now see Athos searching for him, he thanked God for this night and the sight he would remember to his dying day.
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The end.
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A/N: Written for the Fête des Mousquetaires "Frozen" challenge. For rules, judging, etc., please go to the forum page on this site for The Musketeers.
Many thanks to Celticgal1041 for the beta; any remaining mistakes are my fault.
Thanks for reading! Happy New Year!