Athos stood at attention in front of Captain Tréville's desk, waiting for his superior's reprimand. The headache that had disappeared with breakfast was quickly returning in full force, but he secretly endured it.
Finally, Tréville turned around to look at the Musketeer in front of him. He took notice of the pale complexion, sweaty sheen of Athos' face, and the disheveled uniform. The captain shook his head in disappointment.
"Tomorrow morning, you were to lead group one escorting the king's double to Château de Blois," said the captain, his tone serious. "Now, judging by your appearance, I am seriously considering removing you from this mission."
The words spoken by his captain hit Athos hard, stunning him. He forced himself to remain on his feet as he blinked back the darkness threatening the edges of his vision. He swallowed the bile rising in his throat, determined to not lose his breakfast in front of the captain.
The captain noticed his Musketeer grow pale at the harsh words. The slight wobble to the man's stance may have gone unnoticed to anyone else, but it didn't get past Tréville. "Sit down, before you fall down."
Unsure of how much longer he could have remained upright, Athos gratefully took a seat.
"What am I to do with you?" the captain worried. "I have long tolerated your indulgence in wine because, until now, you have never allowed it to interfere with the performance of your duty. I have always been able to count on you to do your job as expected. Any other man in your position would have been fired long ago from the Musketeers." The captain watched as Athos winced at his candor.
"As you well know, for this mission I need eight of my best Musketeers. Unfortunately, at this point I do not have the time to replace you on such short notice."
Athos remained quiet, his face void of emotion.
"You are confined to the garrison until morning; you are not allowed to leave this post for any reason." Captain Tréville sat on the edge of his desk, crossing his arms. He watched his lieutenant for a moment before continuing, "and you are not allowed any alcohol. Period. I want you sober in the morning."
The captain stood, moving directly in front of Athos' line of vision. "I expect all of my Musketeers to be mentally sharp and physically prepared for duty at all times—you are no exception. King Louis is expecting his Musketeers to safely escort him and, in your case, his decoy, and we will not fail him."
Athos nodded.
"I want you cleaned up," the captain looked over his lieutenant's appearance and frowned. "I will summon the barber to the garrison, seeing that you need a haircut and trim. I will send Aramis to fetch your clean clothes and uniform, and more medicine for that headache."
Athos lifted his eyebrows in surprise. The captain knows me all too well, he thought.
"I will not have my Musketeers escorting the king looking like a vagabond or a drunkard. You will appear as the professional soldier I know you are-no exceptions. Am I clear?"
"Yes sir, very clear" Athos answered.
"Dismissed." The captain stood to move back to his seat behind the desk. "Oh, send Aramis in next please," he said, not bothering to look up from his paperwork.
Athos rose from his seat with a nod, making for a quick retreat. He shut the door, letting out a long sigh of relief.
Thank God that's over, he thought. "Damn, I need a drink!" he grumbled. Athos descended the stairs and set out looking for Aramis. He could feel everyone watching him but he averted his eyes, keeping his head low.
Three anxious Musketeers jumped to their feet at seeing Athos coming toward them.
"What happened up there?" d'Artagnan was first to ask.
Athos shook his head, continuing to walk past the group. "Oh," he glanced sideways at Aramis, "the captain wants to see you."
"He wants to see me?" Aramis pointed to himself in surprise, his eyebrows disappearing under the soft grey hat. "What did I do?" he looked at Athos, worried.
Athos shrugged and walked away, avoiding further questions. The brooding man was not in the mood for conversation, wanting just to be left alone. He made his way to the barracks, finding an open bunk, he lay down. He pulled his hat down over his face, and soon he fell into a restful sleep.
~§~
Aramis knocked lightly on the door to Captain Tréville's office.
"Come," the man inside said.
Aramis steeled himself before stepping inside. He stood in front of the captain's desk, waiting to learn why he was summoned.
"Relax, Aramis," the captain soothed, "you are not being counseled. I summoned you because I want your assistance in a matter." The captain stopped his paperwork for the moment to focus on Aramis.
Aramis raised his eyebrows, curious, but remained quiet.
"I know Athos is drunk," the captain began. "I also know his drunkenness is the reason you were late for duty this morning. I do not fault you, or Porthos, for helping your fellow Musketeer."
The captain rubbed at his temples, feeling a bad headache coming on. "The undue stress some of you men put on me," the captain mumbled under his breath. "It will be the death of me yet."
"Captain, I still have some medicine, some feverfew in my bag, to take care of that headache." Aramis offered with concern.
"Thank you, Aramis, but Athos needs it more than I do."
"Sir. . . ?"
The captain held up his hand to stop Aramis. "I know Athos is suffering from a headache," he shook his head. I need him physically fit, alert, and ready to lead the mission by morning. However, he cannot lead if he is hungover. If Athos is not ready tomorrow, I will have you lead the group in his place," the captain deadpanned.
Aramis was stunned. "Sir, you know that Athos is the best man to lead this mission—hangover or not."
The captain sat for a moment thinking, quietly scrubbing a hand over his face. "Aramis, you are an outstanding soldier and a fine Musketeer. You are the kind of soldier a captain needs to have under his command. You are fully capable of leading any mission assigned to the Musketeers. Don't sell yourself short, son." The captain looked at Aramis with an almost fatherly affection.
"Thank you, sir," Aramis said, blushing slightly. "I appreciate your confidence in me, but my place is serving at Athos' side."
Aramis had such confidence in Athos that he would follow his brother to Hell, if he asked. If necessary, he was willing to stake his own reputation and honor in support of him. "Captain, Athos will be ready to lead this mission. I guarantee it."
Captain Tréville nodded, "okay, it's settled then." As one of his best Musketeers, Aramis' opinion was highly respected by the captain. If Aramis believed Athos would be ready then he had no cause for concern.
The captain still had one more issue at hand; one that he knew would not be an easy matter to broach. He stood from his chair, pacing behind the desk. "Alright, Athos will lead," he turned to face Aramis, "but I have ordered him confined to the garrison until morning. He is not to leave quarters for any reason. Since you are together in group one, I want you, Porthos, and d'Artagnan to stay here in garrison with Athos. . . keep an eye on him," the captain added.
Aramis narrowed his eyes at the mere suggestion of keeping an eye on Athos. "Athos doesn't need, or want, a nursemaid, he's a grown man, fully capable of taking care of himself." Aramis knew his brother musketeer well enough to understand he would never accept, nor appreciate, three nursemaids playing mother hen as they hovered over him.
"That is not what I meant, Aramis," the captain shook his head. "I know that Athos does not need a nursemaid, but he does need watching over. Something is bothering him, something deep down inside he won't reveal to anyone. When he gets in those dark moods, he withdraws. . . taking only the bottle with him."
The captain knew that the Musketeers, especially the Inseparables and d'Artagnan, would do anything for each other. They would bend over backwards to help one another, each willing to die to protect or save the other. Perhaps what none of them were willing to admit, however, is that sometimes what Athos needed most was protection from himself.
Tréville continued, "Athos is forbidden to consume any alcohol the remainder of today and tonight. So I say again, it is a good idea to keep an eye on him."
Alright, that's even worse, Aramis thought. If Athos suspected his brother Musketeers are keeping company with him simply to spy on him, well, that could turn ugly. Aramis shook his head, "we are not going to spy on Athos on the outside chance that he has a bottle of wine stashed, hidden somewhere in the barracks."
"I did not ask you to spy on him, Aramis, but simply to keep an eye on him; make sure he does not leave, make sure he does not harm himself. I've said before," the captain clarified, "when he gets in those dark moods he tends to drown himself in wine. There is no telling what he'll do, or where he'll go, to forget the pain that gnaws at him."
"Considering the mission tomorrow, I do not suspect that Athos will be any trouble. However," the captain added in a serious tone, "I am putting you in charge, Aramis, of making sure that Athos complies with all of my orders."
Aramis believed in Athos; he'd defend Athos' ability as a Musketeer until his own dying breath. "Captain, Athos will comply to your wishes-but not because of me."
Aramis shook his head, "you don't understand, do you? Sir, the respect and confidence of his captain means more to Athos than his own reputation and personal honor. If he doesn't have your confidence in him as a Musketeer, as your lieutenant, then he has nothing—he would rather die."
Captain Tréville quietly pondered what Aramis said of his second in command, feeling honored that Athos would think so highly of him. The captain softened his tone, "I want you, Porthos, and d'Artagnan to go pick up clean linens and uniforms for each of you and for Athos. I want all of you to look your best tomorrow, understood?"
"Yes sir," Aramis answered.
"Good," the captain answered. "I also want you to pick up more feverfew for Athos. Bring along plenty, enough to last the entire trip, he may need it."
"Yes sir," Aramis repeated.
"There is no further need for your group to be briefed later, I have complete confidence you will fulfill your mission as expected," Tréville smiled. "Now, go get those things I requested and then you may relax," he said. "I will see you in the morning."
"Thank you, sir."
"Dismissed," the captain nodded.
~§~
Aramis left the captain's office on a mission to find Athos. He came across his two companions sparring with each other in the courtyard. "Have you seen Athos?" he asked.
"Last I saw 'im he was in the barracks," answered Porthos. "You were up there a long time, 'Mis. Is everything okay? I mean, does the cap'n want to see me next?" The larger man asked anxiously.
"No," Aramis smiled. He motioned with his head for his friends to follow, "I do need you two to come with me, though. We have a small assignment from the captain. But first, I want to find Athos to make sure he's okay." Aramis was worried for his friend. He hasn't seen Athos since he came out of Tréville's office looking a little discouraged. He needed to ease his own mind, make sure he was okay. . .and make sure he's where he's supposed to be.
It didn't take long to find their missing leader sleeping soundly in the barracks. The hat had slipped off Athos' face as he had turned onto his side. He looked so peaceful that Aramis didn't have the heart to wake him.
"Let him sleep," Aramis whispered. "This is probably the first peaceful sleep he's had in days. With Athos leading the mission tomorrow, he's going to need all the rest he can get." Muttering under his breath, "there's something about this mission that seems off, I can't put my finger on it."
Nagging feelings of dread were starting to take root but he couldn't explain why. Not wanting to cause undue worry, he kept his thoughts to himself. After all, they were probably just the typical anxieties before a covert mission. But still, he thought, I have a bad feeling about this. . .