Athos looked at the two children. His wife was holding one, while the twenty year old held the other. "Their wonderful." he murmured, making his wife laugh as he smiled at his two little sons. At his father and mother's voices, the second child opened is eyes, and looked at his father. There was a fire in those soft blue eyes that matched his father's. The boy's one year old brother slept soundly in his mom's arms.

He held the boy at arm's length, and smiled. "D'Artagnan, one of these days, you and your brother will make fine musketeers." he said slightly tossing the boy into the air and catching him. The boy gave a small babyish giggle. Suddenly, there was a pounding at the door. Still holding his son, Athos stalked to the window, and looked out.

He cursed under his breath. "Cardinal's guards. Ariana, take Porthos and run, they must not get us." She looked at her husband and youngest son.

"But,"

"Don't worry about us. I am taking D'Artagnan to a safe place. He will be well-trained and cared for there." All this he said as he wrapped his infant son in a blanket and put on his coat. The two separated, each holding, or in Ariana's case, half leading, half dragging, a sleepy child. It did not take Athos long to reach the Gascon farmhouse.

After two minutes of knocking, he heard a familiar voice cry out, "Alright, I am coming!" Within minutes, a sleepy and ticked off Don Williams stood in the doorway.

He gave a start. "Athos, what are you doing here this time of day?" he asked his old friend.

Athos held the child a little higher, as his arms was getting tiered. "We need help, Don." The older man looked down at the small baby, understanding in his eyes. He looked around, and dragged father and son inside. As Athos explained, Don's wife focused on making his friend's son comfortable.

"What's his name?"

"D'Artagnan."

"Don't worry, my friend. We will take good care of him. I will make sure he knows of you. No, do not look at me like that. All boys have a right to know of their father."

"Thank you, my friend." Athos returned, but he never found Ariana or Porthos. It will be years before proud father and sons will be reunited.


19 years later

Two figures fought together in the field. One was an old man with white-blonde hair. The other was 19, with dark brown hair, almost black. Soon, the fight ended. "You are ready, my son." Don told D'Artagnan, smiling with pride. To himself, he thought, I only hope Athos agrees. It had been nineteen years since his friend had come with his little, little boy. He handed him the sword Athos had left to be given on his nineteenth birthday.

Athos should be doing this. Don thought as D'Artagnan whispered "The sword of a musketeer." Three hours after leaving, D'Artagnan ran into Rushmore. He did not know this will be the beginning of something great. When he saw the same man through the Musketeer captain's window, he cried out an insult and took chase. The frist man he ran into was about forty with black hair and the same blue eyes as him. He did not know it, but the man who challenged him was his father, Athos.