Disclaimer: I do not own the Musketeers.
Loving all the support behind this. Keep the feed back coming and enjoy the first fight scene.
'So that's how he'll start.' Charlotte prepared to have him try and knock the sword aside.
"Halt."
Or not.
She turned her head towards to source of the noise and found herself staring at a blonde haired man in a black and red uniform. It looked just like the uniform those so called guards at the inn were wearing, only this man had the luxury of having gold embroidery lining the red cross on his chest and the edge of his short cloak.
Athos gave a tired groan and stepped away from Charlotte. "Jussac." He sheathed his sword.
Charlotte took a deep breath in and out. How many times can something go wrong in one day? She stuck the point of her sword into the gap in cobbles as this Jussac fellow slowly walking closer to them, with a large smirk on his face "Well, well, well. How the mighty have fallen. Duelling in defiance of the edicts?"
Athos cocked his head to the side, "Got tired of rolling peddlers for spare change?"
As they traded barbs, the yard began to fill with guards that circled around Charlotte and the Musketeers. They were blocking off all possible exits and scaring the common folk into the safety of the indoors. Charlotte guessed there must have been at least twenty of them.
"Now," Jussac crossed his hands before him, "Surrender your weapons and come quietly. This is, if you would rather resist." It was more of a dare than a command.
"New plan." Porthos said. "Forget the girl, kick their arses, then go get some lunch. I could do with some excursive."
Perhaps they may live up to his statues as a master swordsmen. But twenty more men filled the yard.
"You were saying?" Jussac asked lazily. Now they were surrounded by forty armed guards.
"On the other hand, discretion is the better part of valour." Porthos backed tracked from his previous plan.
Charlotte held a hand to the side questioningly, "You're the Musketeers."
"Wrong." Arthos said deadpan. "We were the Musketeers. Now we're just ... us."
Charlotte wanted to shake her head. So this is what the legendary Three Musketeers amounted to. A sullen drunk, a stylish giant and a godly official.
Sounded like the beginning of a bad joke.
Just when it couldn't get more difficult, a procession of armoured guards in perfect step with each other entered the yard. Everyone turned to watch the new arrivals. They too wore black and red like the other guards, even on the tips of their spears a red cross flew proudly.
A cross.
'Could these be Cardinal Guards?' Charlotte mused. Even in Gascony they were notorious, and not for the best of reasons. Bringing up the rear was a single horsemen and Charlotte's blood hissed and boiled.
"Rochefort." Somewhere behind her she heard Athos say his name with as much disdain as she felt towards the man, looking arrogant atop his black steed as he was when he had her own sword at her neck. He scanned the situation until he caught sight of Charlotte. The distance between them was vast, but Charlotte still saw his eye narrow.
Her hand twisted tightly around her sword.
Jussac and six of the guards stepped between.
"Young miss." He said to her, putting on a false smile. "Your sword if you please." His hand was out ready to take it regardless. Charlotte blinked and glared at the blonde git. "Someone could get hurt."
That was it for Charlotte.
She ducked her head, 'trying' to hide a shy smile. She glanced up at Jussac, who started to chuckle at her coyness and moved his hand closer to sword hilt. Just as his hand touched her's, she snapped into action. A knee to the stomach and an elbow in the lower back later Jussac was on the cobbles completely incapacitated, while Charlotte engaged all six of the guards behind him, who were caught off guard. Charlotte easily parried their weak lunges and sent either their swords or themselves flying to the ground, while they couldn't hope to land a blow on her. Being a woman meant a smaller frame, weaker but it was lighter and quicker to move about the men. With each blow the anger that had been building up since that morning slowly flooded out of her, through her foot work, her sword arm, even through breaths when she could catch one in between all the blocking.
Around her there were cheers from the balconies as the people came out of hiding to witness what was going on, fuelling her ego enough to amp up a more dramatic flair to the fight, starting with a flip over her current opponent to strike at the man waiting behind him, then knocked her 'springboard' into an oncoming guard to her right. They were making it too easy for her and she performed a cartwheel, hooking a foot on a guard's neck which brought him face first into the ground. She had always wanted to try that. The fighting moved to the centre of the yard and Charlotte soon found herself slowly being surrounded by the rest of the guards.
'Damn it.' She may have bitten off more than she could chew as she began to struggle with keeping an eye on the many blades around her.
A sharp clang next to her ear made her turned her head. A sliver handle obstructed her view, followed by an arm. Someone's back was against her's and she could sense another to her right.
It couldn't be.
A quick glance either side a Charlotte confirmed it. The Musketeers had joined the fray, Athos to her left and Aramis to her right. So that put Porthos behind her. A comforting notion to have a giant at her back now that they were caught on all sides.
"So much for discretion." Charlotte said in between gulps of breaths. Porthos snorted. "Why bother? Couldn't let you have all the fun now."
"Besides what sort of gentlemen would we be not come to the aid of a lady." Aramis chimed in.
Charlotte grounded her teeth to ease her wounded pride, "I don't need help. I have everything under control."
"Obviously. We are completely surrounded."
"You are so by choice you ..."
"If you two are done." Arthos cut Charlotte off from answering back. Something had changed. Even though she couldn't see it, she heard it in his voice. It was firm, in command. "Let's even the odds."
Charlotte couldn't dispute that.
As one the four of them lunged and broke the wall of guards. Through the fray Charlotte caught sight of Rochefort, still seated on the safety of his horse watching the brawl with little interest. His lips moved slightly as he gave an order Charlotte could not hear and she duck her head as a guard aimed for her, instead killing one of his own. After she dispatched him she looked back of Rochefort. He was leaving with his parade of armoured guards.
Charlotte thought she heard herself growl. 'Oh no you don't.' She tried to break through to get to him, but felt herself being pushed further back. In between the crossing blades, she saw the Three Musketeers fighting in their own unique forms. Aramis, like her, utilised light footwork to keep a step ahead and also had a slim dagger in his other hand to stave off assaults. Porthos did even need to draw a blade and clobbered his opponents with his fine cane. And as for Athos ... well, he used no fancy swordplay or godly strength. His strokes were swift, precise and deadly. He didn't bother with showing off or being the most vicious, it was all about precision with Athos.
"Watch out!"
Charlotte turned sharply to find Jussac charging at her with a snarl. He was easy to deflect, but any later and she may have had a sword in her gut. She knocked the man to the ground then searched for the owner of the voice. Standing by a tree there was a young girl, clutching a basket of herbs and apples tightly as she watched on. There was a look of relief about her sweet face and pink lips were parted by a soft sigh. She must have been the one.
"Thanks," Charlotte nodded to her.
The girl's relief quickly drop and she was shaking her head at her, "Are you trying to get yourself killed?"
Charlotte glanced around, "I'm standing, unharmed, with my opponents on the ground. If I was trying to do something like that it would be the other way around."
The girl was far from impressed. "Are you always this cocky?"
"I prefer the term confident. Seems a little more lady like."
"You hardly seem like the type who would care for lady like things."
"True."
Jussac made another attempt at her, "Damn you wench!"
"Do you mind?" Charlotte parried and easily took the captain's sword. She tripped him up for good measure. "Didn't your mother teach you to never interrupt a woman's conversation?"
A groan from Jussac was his answer.
Charlotte turned back to the girl smugly. "The name is Charlotte D'Artangan by the way."
Her exterior crack a little and there was traces of a smile there. "Constance."
"Pleasure."
"You won't get far here with just a sword you know." Constance told her.
Charlotte ducked and caught a young guards thrust with the hilt of Jussac's sword, twisting hard and flipping the guard over her shoulder. "How do you mean?"
The girl raised an eyebrow, like Charlotte had missed the most obvious thing. "This is Paris. The game of wits earns more merit than swordplay, and meaning no disrespect but it would appear that you are but an ammeter player."
"So you are an expert?"
"Perhaps, compared to you."
Charlotte liked this girl. She was quite to the point, brutally honest and had a sense of wit and humor.
Remembering that she was in the middle of a fight, she looked about for anymore attackers. But all that was left was a stumbling Jussac and a dozen guards scattered about the ground. "Well then." Charlotte called out to him, happy he stumbled upright at the sound of her voice. "Care for a little more?" She tossed his sword back to him.
Jussac just held his sword out. Charlotte was sure he had a slight shudder and was going red in the face with humiliation. With all the grace and dignity of a toddler throwing a tantrum the captain broke his sword on his knee and tossed it back towards Charlotte, rendering her the better swordsman. She smirked had the two halves skidded across the cobbles and Jussac stomped, or more accurately limped away.
Constance shifted her basket so that she could pat her hands together to applaud Charlotte, but it was in a mocking manner. She lifted her many skirts and left Charlotte there, acting indifferent to the fighting that had just taken place. Charlotte had a good feeling that if most of the woman of Paris were as like minded as that lass, settling in would be easier than previously assumed or at least amusing.
She felt a large presence at her side and tensed. But it was only Porthos.
"Typical." He asked.
Charlotte glanced over at him. "What?"
"After all that posturing you still find a moment for idle gossip. Very ..."
"Womanly?" She offered. "An aptly observation seeing as I am one." She looked back at the retreating blonde, "Besides, why toss up the opportunity to talk with a lovely lady."
The large man cocked his eyebrow and stared down at her. "Are your preferences swayed towards blondes ...?"
"That's for me alone to know and get your mind out of the gutter." As Charlotte shook her head, she saw Athos and Aramis striding towards them. They had just finished fending off their attackers and the last of the guards how had any sense about them were running off. Porthos went to meet them half way, a large grin on his face. "Well, a little shorter than I had hoped, but still good to stretch the legs."
Charlotte hung back a few feet from the trio. She was unsure just where all four of them were placed after this. Were they still going to fight? Did they remember her challenge? All previous motivations were lost in the fracas. Regardless her itch for a fight had calmed and she in no dire need to keep fighting.
Around her she heard the crowd's cheering pick up once more, the many voice all joining together to cry out a single word.
"MUSKETEERS! MUSKETEERS!"
The Musketeers in question stopped talking and looked all around at the applauding masses. Charlotte watched their expressions soften, well Aramis and Athos at least. Porthos seemed quite at ease the attention and bowed back to the people.
It didn't take long for Charlotte to understand their sudden silence. They were heros and if what Athos said was true it had been some time since they had the glory of being ones.
"They will be back, and with plenty of re enforcements." Arthos said, sliding his sword back into its scabbard. They were all in agreement with that and Athos was already walking off to retrieve his cloak and hat. "You'd best come with us Charlotte, now that you've painted a target on your back."
There was a pause before she could respond, her sword sheathed halfway, "How do you know that name?" She asked, more than a little suspicious. "I only told you ..."
Athos halted mid step and turned back to her. "You talk too loud."
That shut Charlotte up.
"Now unless you want to fight any entire army I suggest you take up the offer while you still can." He pivoted back around and resumed walking away.
Charlotte glanced at Porthos, who merely shrugged, then over to Aramis. The man was looking down at one of the fallen guards while clutching his cross, his lips moved quickly.
He was praying?
His eyes closed for a second and when they opened they flicked to Charlotte. They had gone so dark.
"Well." She cleared her throat and placed her hands on her hips, "Either I stay here and face possible death, or go with complete strangers and perhaps live another day."
"The latter does sound more appealing." Pothos chuckled, "Come on then." He slapped her arm as he passed, which so happened to be her injured arm. The impacted on his hand sent a thousand pins up her arm. Charlotte chocked on a yelp and protectively clutched her arm. "Welcome to Paris indeed."