Hope you enjoy, just my take on Savoy story.

Disclaimer: I own nothing below :)

Something was wrong, Treville could feel it in the air and he knew he would not be getting any sleep tonight. Sighing, he sat up and grabbed his boots before pulling his leathers and cloak on. Dressed, the Captain of the Musketeers walked out onto the balcony to find something to do with his night; the armoury could always be rechecked.

When he looked down at the moonlit yard he expected to see it deserted, but instead he spotted Porthos, one of his new recruits. The big man had an exceptional gift at brawling, but he had never owned a sword before; too poor to afford one. No doubt he felt he needed more practice, which is why Treville found him wielding the weapon at such a late hour.

The Captain did not approve of his men going without sleep but at least this would give him something to do tonight. Treville quickly grabbed his sword-belt from his room and then returned to the balcony before walking down the stairs. Porthos noticed his leader just as he reached the bottom, immediately embarrassed to have been caught red handed by the man he so admired.

"Cap'n…I was just…"

"You're gripping your sword wrong," Treville cut-off, drawing his own blade. "Hold it like this," he continued, showing Porthos his hand. The new recruit just stared at him for a moment, confused as to why the man would be helping him at such a late hour. When Treville didn't move on Porthos quickly copied his grip, finding he now had much more control over the blade. "Good," Treville said, placing a hand on Porthos' shoulder before walking past him.

"Thank-you Cap'n, good night," Porthos replied, turning to see where Treville was going. The Captain, however, was facing Porthos having only walked a few steps and then turned; sword arm raised.

"I hope after all these years of experience I have a few more lessons to teach you," Treville stated, flicking his sword up and then down; signalling the start of a dual.

"Cap'n you don't have to…"

"Porthos. I will be getting no sleep tonight; at least let me help you for a while. Besides, I need the exercise," Treville said, rolling his shoulder.

"Yes Sir," Porthos replied, touched that the Captain would spare his time. Treville was thankful that the man didn't question his lack of ability to sleep; every single Musketeer had some demons. The men's true strength came from overcoming them.


Treville and Porthos duelled for about a half hour, occasionally stopping so that the Captain could offer advice. It was during one of these pauses when they noticed a figure walking through the garrison archway.

"That'll be Athos Cap'n," Porthos stated, instantly recognising the man; they often met at this hour when Athos returned from a tavern and Porthos was still practising. Treville sighed as he watched the man stumble through the walkway, stepping out into the moonlit yard. He sheathed his sword and walked over to Athos as he attempted to reach the table.

Treville grabbed him by the shoulder's as he nearly tripped, startling the man out of his thoughts.

"Captain?" Athos asked, confused. Treville had to clench his jaw for a moment to overcome the smell of alcohol on the younger man's breath. "I had not thought to see you out at this hour," Athos stated in his usual respectful tone. Treville was about to reply when Athos suddenly turned green and the Captain had to quickly move aside and hold him upright as Athos retched; vomiting up the wine on the yard. When he was done Treville was able to sit him down at the table, about to fetch some water when Porthos beat him to it; already handing Athos a full flask. Treville nodded his head in thanks at the man; clearly Porthos was accustomed to Athos' behaviour.

"This happens often?" Treville asked Porthos, already knowing the answer, as Athos groaned and drank the liquid.

"Every night Sir. Don't think he remembers come morning…least he don't ever mention it." "You train every night?" Treville replied, catching Porthos off guard.

"Well I…," Porthos stumbled, but Treville gave him a stern 'don't lie to me' glare. "Yes Cap'n."

"You won't improve much without a tutor Porthos. No matter how many hours you put in," the Captain stated. "I'm afraid I rarely have the time."

"Cap'n. You've done so much already." Treville smiled sadly at the man. How did he deserve such loyalty from one he had done so much wrong? Porthos, the lost child that had somehow found his way back to him. If he could, Treville would give him everything to repay what he had done, but the Captain had many men to look after; many men he was responsible for, including the drunkard former Comte.

Athos was sat upright now, more aware of his surroundings. He had finished the flask and had dropped it on the bench beside him. Treville looked between the two men, seeing a solution to both problems.

"Athos," Treville called, resulting in the younger man looking up at him. When Athos realised it was the Captain he tried to stand but Treville placed a firm hand on his shoulder. "Son, you may believe this is your only option, but drinking yourself into a stupor each night will not change the past."

"Not trying to change it…trying to forget," Athos said weakly. Porthos immediately felt like he was intruding. He had never seen Athos so vulnerable and broken, he was normally so reserved. Treville, however, was able to break down those walls. Having not been dismissed by his Captain, Porthos remained where he was, trying not to draw Athos' attention.

After hearing Athos' words, Treville crouched before the man, holding his shoulders as he looked up into the pain filled green eyes.

"We can never forget son, only try to atone for what we've done. You told me that's why you're here, that's why I gave you this chance."

"I'm trying…I just…I don't know how...," Athos said, voice cracking as the alcohol and Treville's understanding loosened his tongue.

"I know, but this is not the way," Treville replied, squeezing Athos' arm. "You have met Porthos?" the Captain asked, seeming to change the subject. Porthos stood their awkwardly, assured that Athos wouldn't recognise him; not when they only met properly after Athos had already become drunk. Athos' green eyes flickered up to Porthos as if noticing his presence for the first time.

"I have…though I am yet to introduce myself in a sober state for I am too ashamed by my actions," Athos stated. Porthos' mouth gaped open. "Forgive me, you must think me beyond rude; and yet you seem to come to my aid each night regardless."

"I thought you just forgot," Porthos replied, making Athos frown and shake his head.

"I never forget."

"Well, now that I'm convinced you understand your debt to Porthos you can follow an order," Treville stated, standing up now Athos was more himself. "Instead of going to taverns, you will remain here and help Porthos with his fencing."

"Cap'n, Athos don't owe me anything…," Porthos began, only to fall silent under Treville's stern glare. Porthos quickly realised that Athos helping him with his sword wasn't just about Porthos' skills, but Athos' general wellbeing. "You're the best swordsman in the regiment, I would be a fool to waste your talents."

"Not having alcohol will be difficult," Athos admitted, flushing red with embarrassment at that fact.

"Then you better get used to our own supply and drinking in company," Treville replied. The Captain then squeezed Athos' shoulder one last time and nodded to Porthos; leaving them to get better acquainted. He was about to enter the armoury when he heard a horse behind him.

A cloaked rider rushed through into the yard, dismounting in an instant. Athos and Porthos immediately stepped between him and Treville, hands on their sword-hilts.

"A message…a message from the Cardinal Sir," the rider gasped, out of breath as he ignored the stances of Athos and Porthos and held out the note. Treville pushed through his two men, grabbing the parchment and unravelling it to read the message. His stomach dropped and breathing no longer came naturally as the words sunk in.

"Cap'n?"

"Captain?" Porthos and Athos said, worried; only no response came.

"What's going on out here? You lot should be in bed," a voice suddenly called from behind them as old Serge the cook came out from his rooms by the kitchen. The voice of an old friend seemed to snap Treville out of his reverie. He crumpled the note into a fist and turned around to face the cook. "Captain, didn't know you were out here…what is it?" Serge asked, noticing the almost scared look on Treville's face.

"Serge…I…I need…," Treville stumbled, hand shaking to the observance of everyone present.

"You've worked yourself to hard Captain with most of the men away. You've gone and made yourself sick."

"No…its…"

"You two," Serge stated to Athos and Porthos. "Help get the Captain back to his rooms and send for a doctor, I'll make a broth…"

"No!" Treville suddenly snapped, making the old cook go silent. Despite witnessing Treville's temper on many occasions he had never seen the Captain like this; he appeared almost mad. "The Cardinal has sent word," Treville stated before taking a breath to calm down. He had not meant to shout at his old friend but anxiety was creeping in. "His spies in Savoy report the Duke sent men against the Musketeer force stationed there; …the twenty-two men I sent on a training exercise last week…"

Athos and Porthos both stood in shocked silence as those words sank in. There would have been no warning. No doubt they were attacked in their sleep.

"I don't believe…no…they'll all be alright Captain," Serge stated, fiddling with his sleeve. "Don't trust these spies…besides, level heads on those boys. Hmm…Aramis would have seen anyone coming…great eyes on that boy…great eyes…look after each other they do…Marsac…Aramis…Tristan…Luc…"

"Serge," Treville interrupted gently, wishing he had the same false optimism. "I'm leaving you in charge of the garrison. Please prepare some food for three riders; I do not want to stop when we are on the road." Serge didn't have the words to reply, he simply hobbled back into the kitchen to do as he was bid as quickly as possible. "You," Treville said, turning to the messenger. "Return to the cardinal and tell him I have left to validate these claims. And tell him…tell him I expect answers upon my return."

"Sir," the man replied, tipping his hat to the Captain before mounting his horse and riding away. Treville then looked at Athos and Porthos, who both waited patiently in silence for their orders. Athos seemed to have fully recovered from his drunken state following his conversation with Treville and looked ready to ride; equally Porthos had a determined look in his eyes. "You two will accompany me to Savoy. Saddle your horses and mine. I need to get a few things and there is no time to waste. This will not be a comfortable ride gentleman."

"Captain," they both replied in unison as they hurried into the stables and set to their tasks; both attending to Treville's horse first. Porthos did the saddle whilst Athos tended to the reigns; both checking their work twice before moving on to their own horses. They would not let their Captain down; especially not today.

Treville hurried back to his office, grabbing his purse from his cupboard before picking up his spare cloak; the night air had a horrible chill. He then hurried back down the stairs and into the storeroom, picking up many of the essential medical items that he had seen Aramis pack multiple times. Treville paused, leaning against one of the tables as he fought to remain calm. He could almost picture Aramis standing in front of him, equipment laid out on the table as he went through the stock with Treville; telling him what they didn't need and what they needed more of. He had been smiling and somehow managing to make jokes out of his many adventures and experiences with wounds; too many for one so young.

"Captain," Athos suddenly said behind him, standing in the doorway. "We are ready."

"Good, take these for you and Porthos," Treville said, handing the man the small saddlebags before taking one for himself. When they left the room Treville saw that Serge had already returned with the food and was assisting Porthos in packing it. Treville quickly packed the medical bag as Athos did the same with his and Porthos'. Under usual circumstances Treville would be impressed by how the two men seemed to work in harmony with each other, but right now the Captain had little care for such matters. Right now he needed to know if his men were alive; or if he had indeed sent them to their deaths.

Next chapter will include Aramis... Please Fav/Fol/REVIEW!