Evening My Lovelies!

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!

As a little Christmas gift to you all I'm uploading the first chapter of my newest story :)

This isn't going to be anywhere near as long as my last few stories as it is based on a specific episode (season 3 episode 9)

I want to give a BIG shout out to pmilly who specifically requested this story! I really hope you like how this story progresses and that you like my take of the episode.

Enjoy!

xxx

Chapter One: The King Is Dead

D'Artagnan sighed as he exited the palace doors; he had been summoned by Treville for protection duty for the King only to then learn that his charge wasn't where he had been expecting the man to be.

It had taken several long minutes for the younger musketeer to find someone who could tell him where the monarch and his former Captain were but before too long he could make out the tell tale clang of blades that spoke to a spar.

Quickening his pace to ensure he wasn't too late D'Artagnan turned the corner, a smirk curling his lips as he saw the faint grimace on the minister's face as the senior man focused on pulling his hits as much as possible without making it too obvious to his opponent that he was doing so. The smirk quickly turned to a frown when he noticed the faint gleam of sweat he could see on the King's skin.

Treville noticed his approach and paused briefly to nod a greeting to the younger man before turning his attention back to the King and their spar.

Once he knew Treville was aware of his presence the Gascon settled himself against a pillar. Outwardly the young musketeer was the epitome of relaxed casualness, though anyone paying close attention would be able to see the slight tenseness in the man's frame and they would be able to notice the way the Gascon's eyes were constantly moving to see out any potential threat to his monarch and minister.

"Come on, Treville," goaded Louis with a joyous smile as the young King all but danced out of the way of the minister's latest strike, too busy enjoying the adrenaline of the spar to notice the fact that his old friend and teacher had pulled his skill back and was taking it significantly easier on him than he would any other opponent.

"Now, you can do better than that," grinned the King as he met Treville's blade with his own.

Unable to help himself D'Artagnan found himself chuckling under his breath at the frustrated look that flashed across Treville's face at the King's mocking comments, though he didn't quiet quickly when the former Captain sent a small glare his way, informing the Gascon that he had heard the boy's reaction to the King's words.

Treville's attention was pulled away from his silent scolding of the musketeer when he noticed the King was panting and grunting a lot more that usual.

"Rest now sir," he ordered gently, lowering his blade mere moments before it was due to connect, the concern in his voice clear for all to hear.

Unfortunately for Treville, the monarch seemed to take offence to the concern and so, was quick to dismiss it with a smug grin.

"Nonsense! I'm fighting fit today," he smirked, the smirk only growing as he turned his head towards D'Artagnan." Come on, I'll take you both on."

Treville fought the urge to sigh and simply shook his head, "Majesty, You've worn me out," he said as he lowered he blade and replaced it back into it's sheathe.

Sighing dramatically Louis span on his heels, turning towards D'Artagnan who straightened once he noticed the King's eyes were now on him.

"Some proper opposition then, D'Artagnan!"

The younger musketeer fought to contain his eyebrow raise at the King's enthusiasm.

Knowing the monarch was too ill to be fighting D'Artagnan shook his head, "I would love to Your Majesty, but I have sustained a wound on my sword hand… I should probably…"

Before D'Artagnan could say anything more the royal was huffing with an almost childlike pout that made the musketeer want to smile, despite the words that followed.

"And these are my defenders," huffed Louis as he gestured dramatically to the two musketeers.

The younger of the two looked ready to retort when Louis turned back to him, a gleam in his eye that instantly caught the younger man's attention.

"You know," smirked Louis as he twirled his blade around in an almost worrying fashion. "Treville used to teach me how to fight when I was a lad… It seems like I've surpassed him."

Neither Treville nor D'Artagnan could help the smirks that graced their lips as their monarch turned away from them.

Unable to help himself Treville paused as he went to follow the King to lean over to his soldier and whisper, "He forgot everything I taught him."

The two shared a quiet chuckled before Treville sent the royal a fond almost fatherly smile, "But I will say this… He never lacked courage."

Treville was about to say something else when the sound of harsh coughing caught the attention of both D'Artagnan and himself.

"Your Majesty?" called the Captain, worry evident in his voice as he took a few steps towards the now violently coughing monarch.

"Majesty?" called D'Artagnan, his voice echoing the worry in his Captain's only for the panic in both of their eyes to reach new highs when the young royal collapsed.

Snapping to attention the two musketeers raced to their fallen monarch's side, practically skidding as the dropped to their knees by his prone form.

"GUARDS!" screamed D'Artagnan as he pulled the King's head into his lap, his fingers immediately seeking out any signs of a pulse.

"Louis!" cried Queen Anne, panic and grief filling both her voice and face she all but pushed the musketeer aside to be beside her husband

"Louis?" she tried again, tears filling her eyes as she was forced to accept the inevitable after several long moments of no response, their monarch… her husband was gone.

Looking up to D'Artagnan, Treville masked any trace of emotion from his face.

"Find Athos."

Without saying a word D'Artagnan nodded solemnly and all but jumped to his feet as he dashed passed the guards in search of his mentor and friend of several long years.

Athos looked up from where he had been sharpening his sword when he heard the all too familiar footsteps of his youngest brother. The pace of the footfalls instantly had the senior musketeer on edge and the feeling only grew as he noticed the look on the younger man's face.

"What's happened?" he asked quietly, his eyes scanning the boy for any sign of injury or illness. Finding nothing he waited for the younger man to catch his breath and tell him what was going on.

"The… King," panted D'Artagnan, ensuring his voice was kept low enough so only Athos would be able to hear him, knowing full well the news would throw the whole city into chaos once it became commonly known.

Athos's eyes widened before he nodded, understanding now the urgency he had seen in D'Artagnan's eyes.

Without another word spoken between them the two men rushed to where they knew Treville would be.

"Sir," cried Treville as he rushed into the young prince, now King's room.

"Forgive me," he panted as he hastily threw a cloak over the young child's shoulders before leading his out of the room.

"Treville," called Athos softly as approached the now grimacing man.

"It's happened," stated Athos, his eyes flickering briefly to the young child by his former Captain's side.

"God rest his soul."

Athos could tell something else was bothering his Captain and that thought only grew as the man pulled him into a more secluded corner.

"Treville?"

"Take the King," whispered Treville, his eyes scanning the room for any potential eavesdroppers. "Hide him somewhere in the city until I tell you it is safe to return."

Athos sighed, his mind immediately working through several plans and problems.

"Paris is surround by our enemies. Involve only those you trust," instructed Treville, pausing briefly as his eyes hardened, surprising Athos with his next words, "Not Aramis."

The swordsman blinked, honestly stunned by what Treville had just suggested. "You don't trust Aramis?"

With a sigh Treville shook his head, "Not with this. No. Its safer if he doesn't know."

For a moment Treville was convinced Athos would defend the marksman, especially given the tight brotherhood between the two, so he was eternally grateful that the swordsman seemed to understand where he had been coming from as the man nodded, albeit reluctantly.

"You're right," sighed Athos, hating that he was having to keep this from his brother.

Plastering a slightly softer look onto his face Athos knelt down in front of the young boy, who was watching with wide, slightly fearful eyes.

"I'm going to make you an honorary musketeer," informed Athos, smiling more genuinely when he noticed the way the child's eyes lit up at the thought of being a musketeer.

"It means you're going have to be brave, clever and strong," added the swordsman, once again smiling genuinely when the boy nodded firmly, standing slightly straighter as he tried to mimic the musketeer.

Moving as quickly and covertly as they could the group, consisting of Athos, D'Artagnan, Treville and the child King soon found themselves outside in a secluded side of the palace.

Nodding towards his former Captain Athos mounted his horse, ensuring he was completely settled in the saddle before reaching over to take the child King from Treville's arms.

"I hear you're a born horseman," remarked Athos, as he consciously thought to keep his voice soft. "Hold on tight, you'll like this."

As he watched his friend ride off D'Artagnan couldn't stop himself from voicing his worries. "Will this work?" he asked, unable to take his eyes off of the path his brother had just travelled down.

Treville sighed, mentally preparing himself for what was going happen next.

"Civil war is coming to Paris and that child is the prize."