Evening My Lovelies

What prompted me to rewrite this entire chapter at almost 1am I'll never know, though I am glad I did as this ended up much better then it was and I'm also impressed how quickly I was able to get it done :)

ALSO quick apology for posting the wrong chapter yesterday, I fixed it as soon as it was brought to my attention but still, sorry for those who may have read it before I knew I had done it.

I've also just realized I forgot a disclaimer at the beginning of this story so here it is: I do not own the musketeers

Notes On Reviews:

pmilly: Thanks for the review - Thanks for letting me know about the whole chapter mix up :) I'm bringing in a bit of whump today, hope you're excited :) Enjoy the new chapter! x

Tidia: Thanks for the review - Glad you liked it :) Enjoy the new chapter! x

Katie (Guest): Thanks for the review - Oh D'Artagnan's wrath would be a great thing delve into but then I'd have to kill/hurt Constance and I currently have no plan for that to happen (at this point anyway) I almost had her slap him but who knows, might happen soon :) Enjoy the new chapter! x

Debbie (Guest): Thanks for the review - Yay I'm glad you liked Athos's mindset, I'm quite looking forward to when D'Art learns that Constance has the child King... He's not going to be happy :D Enjoy the new chapter! x

Issai: Thanks for the review - I felt for her too, kinda just wanted to hug her or something but she's pretty pissed right now so better not :D Enjoy the new chapter! x

Lilac Lavender: Thanks for the review - I really liked delving into Athos's mind so I'm happy you liked seeing it. Our boy's protective sides are always great to write and now we get to see it for the women they love... and we're getting a bit of their brotherly protective side today. Hope you like today's update. Enjoy the new chapter! x

As always much love and many thanks for following/favouriting/reviewing/reading

Love you all!

Enjoy!

xxx

Chapter Four: Red Guards

"Do you suppose the rumors are true?" asked D'Artagnan quietly as he and his brothers Aramis and Porthos walked to the council chambers. Despite the reading of the King's will only happening that day, rumors had already begun floating around the castle that Louis had secretly changed it on one of his last days, effectively writing his wife out of it completely and giving the role of regent to the only person in the city he truly trusted… Treville.

The three musketeers had been hesitant to believe it at first, each of them knowing just how much their former Captain would detest the job and how experienced the Queen already was for the role.

Porthos had just opened his mouth to respond when the doors to the council chambers were thrown open, followed shortly by a clearly distressed and furious Queen Anne storming out.

"I'd say so," mused the larger musketeer equally as quiet as they continued walking.

"Oi!" he snapped, though his voice held a fondness to it, it lacked earlier as he lightly swatted his brother on the back of his head, breaking the man's unblinking stare at the now disappearing Queen.

"What?" blinked Aramis innocently, though there was something in his eyes that told that he knew exactly why Porthos had done what he did.

"We're here to get orders from Treville," reminded Porthos, smirking inwardly at his brother's reaction to his words, "Not flirt or stare at the Queen… Focus."

Snorting at the men he lovingly called brothers D'Artagnan shook his head fondly and simply kept walking without a word.

"For someone of little personal ambition your rise is a miracle Treville," remarked the councilor once the Queen had left and the final explanations of the King's will were given.

Treville sighed, knowing full well why he had been selected for the role and he couldn't help but curse the deceased King for doing so. "The King appointed me so he could punish the Queen."

The councilor shrugged, seemingly aware yet unbothered by this. "He certainly went against the natural order of things, but we found him quite immoveable."

It took everything in him not to snarl at the man and his clear disregard for the situation he had now been placed it.

"I would have moved him if I'd known about this," hissed the former Captain, already hating the job he had been given despite not actually having started it yet. The King's mind might not have been as clear as it had been in years previous during recent days but the minister turned regent was fully confident that he could have made the dying man see reason had he been given the chance. With a long-suffering sigh Treville realized that this was likely a reason why it hadn't been brought to his attention before now.

Taking his anger at the situation as nerves the councilor patted the man's shoulder, "We find no fault with you Treville."

Unable to look at one of the men who had put him in his current situation Treville instead settled for glaring at the Will, which was currently resting on the table.

"I cannot do this without the council's support," he sighed resignedly moments later, knowing there was nothing he could do to change the situation now.

Out of his view the councilor smirked briefly before schooling his expressions once more.

"You have it, but for the nobility."

At this the doors to the chamber opened once again and Treville's eyes widened slightly at the sight of D'Artagnan, Aramis and Porthos standing in the doorway. He was not surprised to see them, he had summoned them after all… No, he was surprised because the three of them were bowing to him, proof, if he ever needed it, that gossip spreads like wildfire in the palace.

It was almost an hour later that the four men retired to Treville's office, the man immediately going to his desk and drafting a document.

"Nothing's changed," he stated offhandedly when he sensed more than saw how unsure his former men were around him now.

"Everything has changed," snorted D'Artagnan under his breath, glaring at Porthos when the man not so subtly elbowed him in the stomach.

"I need your help, now more than ever," stated Treville, ignoring the pair's antics, though there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes as he looked up from the document he was now signing.

Apparently having decided his curiosity couldn't be put off any longer Aramis took a small step forward, halting the whispered bickering going on between the two men standing beside him.

"Why isn't Athos with us?" asked the marksman, his eyes narrowing when he caught the small flinch Treville couldn't quite hide.

"Don't concern yourself with Athos," commanded the new regent as he shook his head, rolling up the letter as he did so, sealing it briefly before passing it over to Aramis. "You all have a part to play. I want you to deliver an order to Marcheaux. I am disbanding the Red Guard."

The three musketeers blinked in surprise at the news. Whilst none of them would miss the opposing regiment if it disbanded they were shocked that their new regent had decided that, that was going to be his first act in the new job.

"Is that wise," spoke up D'Artagnan, his thought going to all the people who would suffer when Gaston and his side made their move. "Paris is under attack."

Treville shook his head, "I only want loyal Frenchmen defending us."

D'Artagnan wanted to protest, knowing that each man fighting on their side would only increase the chance that Constance would survive what was coming and remain unhurt. Then the Gascon realized the opposite could so easily happen when the Red Guards where involved and so wisely kept his mouth shut.

Without another word spoken the three men left the office and began their trek to the inn the Red Guard had commandeered as their headquarters.

Watching Marcheaux read the regent's orders was extremely entertaining for the musketeers and they only hated that they had to be on their guard and so couldn't enjoy the mix of fury and confusion to the fullest.

"Treville?" scoffed the Red Guard Captain, instantly making the three musketeers tense and their hands subconsciously move to rest on their weapons. "Regent?"

"We did hope you'd take it like a man, didn't we?" mocked Porthos as he looked to his brothers, thoroughly amused to see them mimicking his expression.

"Hmm we did," nodded Aramis, a smirk curling the corner of his lips.

"We did," nodded D'Artagnan, outwardly smirking as he added, "But then again, we knew you wouldn't."

Anger flooded Marcheaux's face as he violently crumpled up the order and slammed it down onto the desk.

"Well, we will have to drive you and Treville out of Paris," cackled the Red Guard as he pulled his sword from it's sheathe, "Guards!"

Within moments the tavern was full of armed Red Guards, all clamoring for a chance to be the one who killed one of the famous inseparables.

Despite their extensive numbers that far outweighed the musketeer trio, the Red Guards quickly found themselves on the defensive.

Porthos smirked with clear amusement burning bright in his eyes as he ducked under a hastily swung blade aimed at his head. Without wasting a moment the larger musketeer grabbed the still extended arm of his attack and used the man's own momentum to send him flying into one of the other Red Guards who had tried to use his companion's attack as a distraction to reach and kill the musketeer.

Unable to help himself Porthos barked out a laugh as the two men collided and their combined weight sent them careering to the ground with a wince worthy thump.

His enjoyment vanished within a second though as he heard the panicked voice of Aramis shout for their youngest brother.

Punching his next attack in the stomach, Porthos span on his heels, his eyes widening at the sight of his baby brother clawing at a bull of a man as the Red Guard pressed the side of his blade against the young musketeer's throat, not only making it incredibly hard for the Gascon to breathe but also cutting into his skin as the man fought for breath.

Seeing he was only moments away from getting swamped again Porthos used his split second to throw a dagger from his belt at the head of the man Aramis was fighting, not having had a clean shot at the man with D'Artagnan.

Without spending even a second to thank his brother for his timely assistance Aramis rushed to the man strangling his brother, driving his blade deep and hard through the man's unsuspecting back.

The second the marksman was sure the Guard was dead he pushed, with some struggle, him off of the gasping and coughing D'Artagnan, his medic mode rushing to the surface at the sound of his brother in pain and the sight of blood on his skin.

"Breathe D'Artagnan," he said soothingly as he stood protectively by the man's side, waiting for the boy to have regained enough of himself to speak.

It was not settling well for the medic to ignore the wound currently bleeding on his baby brother's throat but given they were still in the middle of a fight he knew it would have to wait until later.

His mood did improve dramatically though when he saw Porthos through Marcheaux through a table with enough force to actually break the piece of furniture.

"I… Had that… under control," scolded D'Artagnan when he had enough air in his burning lungs to speak, though his soft, if somewhat shaky, smile spoke volumes of his gratitude for his friend's actions.

Smiling back Aramis couldn't help but quip, "Next time I'll just let you die," before he pointed his gun upwards and fired, the noise freezing the fight and prompting any conscious Red Guards to flee before things got worse for them.

"You alright whelp?" asked Porthos quietly as he watched Aramis hovering over the boy as the two approached. With his throat still incredibly sore D'Artagnan simply nodded his answer before a groaning Marcheaux caught the trio's attention.

"You will hang, " hissed the Red Guard, much to the annoyance of the musketeers. "You will hang. I will see to it that you do, I –"

Having had enough Porthos grabbed one of the wine bottles from the floor and swiftly used it to knock the man out.

"Very good, " smirked Aramis as D'Artagnan's eyebrow rose at his brother's actions.

"I think this calls for a toast," remarked Porthos as he proudly observed the many unconscious Red Guard bodies on the ground.

Shaking his head at his brother's actions D'Artagnan picked up a surprising in tact bottle of wine off of the ground and passed it over to his friend, who had gathered a few goblets from behind the bar they were resting against.

"Thank you," grinned the larger man as he poured and handed out the drinks.

"Long live the King!" toasted Aramis as he raised his glass.

"The King," nodded D'Artagnan as he did the same, his voice extremely croaky.

"And the new regent," added a voice startling the trio that quickly broke out into beaming grins as their fourth approached and joined them.

"Where have you been?" asked Porthos, thoroughly intrigued by what had kept his brother away, though he had to wait to find out as it was at that moment that Marcheaux, who had woken a the start of the toast and was currently edging his way out of the room, decided he needed to have the last word.

"Enjoy it while it lasts," he sneered, his arms wrapping around the painful ribs he had damaged during his collision with the table. "There's an army coming."