Hey guys, sorry it's been a while. Anyways, here's the next one. Thank you to TheseWordsAreUnspoken and merick for the reviews.
Treville stood in the palace gardens, watching impatiently as the King shot bird after bird, grinning inanely as each one fell to the floor in a puff of feathers. He sensed the Cardinal watching him and did his best to ignore him. Eventually even the King noticed.
"Has Treville grown an extra head or something, Cardinal? I can't think of any other reason for you to watch him so intently."
"I was wondering at the absence of Captain Treville's usual four with him today. Instead he has brought these...others." The Cardinal's pause was exquisitely timed as he waved a hand dismissively at the musketeers that flanked Treville.
"They are elsewhere today, but I assure you that these men are as capable as any musketeer in the regiment."
"Ah yes...capable." The Cardinal smirked and Treville saw Rochefort suppressing a smile.
"Out of interest, where are they?" Rochefort's quiet voice slipped into the conversation like a snake. Treville sighed, although he didn't have to answer to Rochefort the king was watching intently and it was clear he expected an answer.
"My daughter was attacked in the street yesterday and poisoned. She is fighting for her life and my men are trying to find out who did it lest they prove a threat to anyone else."
"You mean that you have King's musketeers playing nursemaid to your daughter and running around on your personal errands?" Rochefort's face was the perfect picture of outrage and Treville gripped the hilt of his sword in an effort not to punch the man.
"Now now, Rochefort." The King had stepped forwards and held up a hand. "If a poisoner is running around in my city then we want them stopped, we can't have ladies being attacked in the street, especially such rare creatures as Madame Ardoin." He stopped Rochefort's angry protest with a look and turned to Treville, placing an arm about his shoulders and moving a few paces away from the others. "Is your daughter very sick, Treville?"
"She is on a knife edge, Majesty."
"Then I cannot think of any better men than those four to protect her but make sure the culprit is hunted down, I don't want them in the city."
"I'll see to it, Sire." The King nodded and smiled before turning away and Treville stared after him. Sometimes the man surprised him with a show of maturity and kindness. It was at times like these when he thought there might be some hope for him yet.
It had just begun to grow dark in the small room and d'Artagnan watched as Anna moved softly around the room lighting candles and bathing the room in a soft, flickering glow. She paused, gazing at Eleanor where she lay unmoving, d'Artagnan thought for a moment that she might be about to speak. She turned as footsteps sounded on the stairs and a moment later the door opened and d'Artagnan rose to his feet as Treville entered the room.
"How is she?" He moved to the bed and d'Artagnan moved swiftly out of his way.
"No change, Sir." D'Artagnan watched as Treville sat beside the bed, resting one hand gently on Eleanor's fiery hair. Anna blew out her taper and slipped quietly from the room, closing the door quietly behind her. When she was gone, Treville spoke, his voice barely audible.
"What if she's not strong enough for this?"
"I believe she is, Sir; she's not giving up yet so it's hardly fair to give up on her." Treville looked up sharply and d'Artagnan wondered for a moment if he'd gone too far. "She's your daughter, have faith that she might be stronger than you think." He sighed and sat opposite the Captain and settled to wait.
Porthos settled into the seat next to the bed just as the first rays of dawn entered the room. He thought he saw a faint blush of colour on Eleanor's cheek and glanced out the window as the sky lightened to dusky pink. A faint moan turned his attention back to the bed. Eleanor's skin had flushed and as he watched she moaned again, her head shifting from side to side. Gently he placed a hand on her cheek and was unsurprised at the heat that radiated from her skin.
"There's that fever." He reached for the cloth that floated in a bowl of water on the table and gently brushed it across the girls' head and cheek. "Good girl, you keep fighting." Eleanor moaned softly and he quieted her with soft murmurs.
They continued to take turns to watch Eleanor as she fought the poison, her body burning with fever. Each of them took up residence in the house, taking their turn to bathe her burning skin and soothe the fever dreams that plagued her. When they were not with Eleanor they combed the city, listening in taverns and questioning everyone they knew in an attempt to find some clue about what had happened. Thus far they had been without success. As they watched over Eleanor, so Anna watched over them; keeping them well supplied with food and drink and on occasion, shooing them to the beds she had set up for their use.
Treville visited at least once a day, the worry for his daughter showing on his face. He would sit with her, stroking her hair and murmuring softly, promising vengeance on those that had harmed her. Each time he came he would look at the four friends expectantly, demanding an update on their investigation and each time they shook their heads in apology and left the house more determined than ever to find the attacker.
Athos sat beside the bed watching Eleanor intently, blue eyes fixed on her face. Her body shifted and she moaned softly, her sweat soaked hair tangling across the bolster. It had been three days, nearly four since her fever had started. He knew, they all did that fevers could prove dangerous when they lasted this long. He sighed, running a hand over his face, listening to Eleanor's ragged breaths. He looked up sharply as her breath caught in a struggling gasp. As he watched she gasped again, her breath catching in her throat and her head tossing from side to side as she struggled for air, each breath becoming more difficult.
"Aramis." Athos' voice echoed through the house and a second later he heard footsteps thundering up the stairs. Aramis burst through the door, dark eyes sweeping over the room. He wasted no time in sliding onto the bed next to the choking girl, concern written across his features.
"Roll her towards you." His voice was terse and Athos grasped Eleanor's shoulder, pulling her towards him as Aramis slipped a hand onto her back, rubbing firmly. After a few moments the terrible, struggling breaths ceased, turning to short gasps as Eleanor desperately pulled air into her lungs.
"Shh, it's alright." Athos murmured quietly to Eleanor and Aramis watched as he gently brushed away a lock of hair that had fallen across the girl's cheek. His touch gentle as he soothed her. After a few moments more she settled and Aramis ran a hand over his eyes before slipping gently back off of the bed. Athos looked up, his eyes worried.
"What was that?"
"I don't know; the distress of her fever perhaps." He looked at the girl, her chest rose and fell in shallow breaths as she fought the poison in her blood, but he was satisfied that for the moment at least that she would continue to breathe. "We must watch and hope it does not happen again."
"You mean we must hope that the fever goes down."
"Yes that too." Running a hand over his eyes once more, the Spaniard slipped from the room, leaving his friend with the girl.
It was some time later as the dark of evening slipped into the house when Aramis entered the dining room in search of food and found d'Artagnan sitting at the table, a glass of wine in his hand.
"Why aren't you with Eleanor?" Aramis knew his tone was sharp but he could hardly believe that the boy was shirking his duties.
"I went up when my watch was supposed to start but Athos told me he would stay with her for a bit longer." He shrugged resignedly. "He gave me such a look that I wasn't planning on disturbing him again." Aramis sighed; he knew the kind of look that d'Artagnan meant; one that said leave me be. He also knew that the boy had been right, it was not wise to push Athos when he looked at one like that, but he reasoned; since when had he minded what was wise where his friends were concerned.
"Alright; I'll deal with him." Squaring his shoulders he turned and left the room, there was one thing he needed to do before facing Athos down.
Athos barely glanced up as the door opened; he knew from the light tread that it was Aramis. Gently he continued to wipe the damp cloth across Eleanor's burning skin, feeling the heat that almost scorched his fingertips.
"You do know that d'Artagnan's watch started two hours ago?"
"I'm aware of that; I told him I would stay." The tone was not one that Aramis would normally have ignored. He sighed and stepped forwards.
"What is it, my friend? You are going beyond your duty in your care of her." Athos looked up at him and just for a moment the mask that guarded his thoughts slipped, revealing worry and sadness in the blue eyes. After a split second the mask was back up and the gaze was steady once more.
"I have spent a great deal of time with her over the last few weeks; I would care if she died."
"Well that's not a crime. But you must rest; you will be no good to her at all if you are dead on your feet."
"I don't need to rest yet." Aramis sighed again, inwardly cursing the man for his stubbornness. He would swear that the most stubborn of mules had nothing on Athos.
"I thought you might say no to me; that's why I bought reinforcements." He reached back and opened the door, stepping to one side to reveal a frowning Anna.
"Right, come along, monsieur; the young man tells me that you will not rest."
"I assure you, Madame; I am quite alright." Anna crossed her arms and looked at him shrewdly.
"I think not; I will not leave the young mistress in the care of a man who looks so tired that a gust of wind might blow him over. Now come along, or I shall call your big friend to help me escort you." Her face darkened when he did not move and he sighed, realising why even the Captain did not cross this woman and knowing that this was not a battle he was going to win.
"Alright." He rose from the chair, suddenly becoming painfully aware of his cramped and aching muscles. Anna nodded and picked up his jerkin from where he had draped it over a chair. With one last glance at Eleanor he followed the housekeeper from the room and allowed her to lead him to the room along the hall. She watched as he lay on the bed and nodded in approval as exhaustion took over, sending him to sleep almost as soon as is head hit the bolster.
Aramis watched Anna lead Athos from the room, dark eyes following them intently. He paused at the door, looking at Eleanor as she moved restlessly in her fever. Shaking his head he turned and stepped out into the hallway and called for d'Artagnan. A moment later he heard light footsteps on the stairs and the young Gascon slipped into the room.
"What is it?" The boys' dark eyes flicked around the room, noting Athos' absence and Aramis' concerned expression.
"We need to try and break this fever." Aramis had a hand resting on Eleanor's head, the fingers of his other hand pressed against her wrist, feeling the fluttering of her heart beat as fast as a butterfly's wing, and he thought just as delicate.
"You're really worried." D'Artagnan gazed steadily at him as he smoothed Eleanor's hair back from her face, soothing her as she moved restlessly.
"I couldn't tell Athos; he would never have left the room."
"How did you manage it?" d'Artagnan glanced at Aramis, his curiosity piqued and the Spaniard shook his head and shrugged.
"Let us just say that the Captain's housekeeper is a force to be reckoned with."
"I can believe that; she reminds me of my mother."
"Well then you'd best behave yourself, young man." Both musketeers jumped and turned to the door, guilty looks on their faces. Anna stood in the doorway, eyebrows raised and hands on hips.
"I...I'm..." d'Artagnan stuttered as the woman levelled her gaze at him. For a moment Aramis considered stepping in to save the boy, but decided it would be funnier to watch as the Gascon was reduced to a child under Anna's stare. He stopped smirking when the housekeeper levelled her gaze at him.
"None of that from you either." Her gaze fell to where his hand still rested on Eleanor's hair and her face softened. "What do you need?"
"A cup of boiling water; buckets of the coldest water you can find and cloths." All trace of humour had gone from Aramis' face and his eyes were once again filled with concern as Anna nodded and set off down the stairs. A few moments later they heard her voice as she directed the young maid and sounds of flurried activity as they carried out Aramis' requests.
"What's that?" d'Artagnan watched as Aramis opened a pouch at his belt and pulled out a small package wrapped in soft leather. Quickly he unwrapped it and emptied a small bundle of what appeared to be crumbling sticks onto the table beside the bed.
"Willow bark; if we can get her to take some then it may help to break the fever." He looked up as the door opened and Anna entered, the maid Alice close behind her. The housekeeper handed the cup of water she carried to Aramis and placed the bundle of cloths that she had under her arm onto the table beside the bed. Alice placed the buckets of water she carried beside the bed and stood gazing at Eleanor, her face full of sadness until a word from Anna broke her from her thoughts, sending her hurrying from the room. Anna and d'Artagnan watched as Aramis crumbled the bark into the cup and put it to one side. He turned to them, his dark eyes serious.
"That needs to steep for a while; we must try and cool her body while it does."
"What is your plan, monsieur?" Anna regarded him levelly.
"Surround her in the cold cloths, keep changing them and use the water to draw the heat from her."
"Will it work?"
"It might, it's better than trying nothing."
"Well I hope it works for all our sakes." D'Artagnan's voice was quiet as he moved to the first bucket and pile of cloths.
They worked through the night, placing cold cloths around Eleanor's body and replacing them as the heat from her fever warmed them. Aramis gently forced the bitter infusion of willow bark down her throat and a few hours later brewed another cup and made her drink that too. It was the middle of the night when Anna looked up from the fresh water, ringing a cloth out as she fixed her gaze on Aramis.
"Is it working?"
"I don't know; there's been no change so far." There were dark shadows under his eyes as he placed a hand on Eleanor's brow, feeling the fire that still raged in her skin.
"What do we do?" d'Artagnan saw the concern in his friends' eyes.
"There's nothing else to do; we keep trying."
"And if..." d'Artagnan trailed off.
"I don't know; but I for one am not going to tell the Captain that we gave up on her." He pulled a cloth from the bed and took the fresh one from Anna, muttering a prayer under his breath as he did so.
The first rays of dawn were just breaking through the clouds, washing the sky with pink and gold when Porthos entered the house. He entered the dining room, surprised to see only the young maid, Alice.
"Where's everyone else?" The girl looked at him like a startled doe, her red rimmed eyes telling him that she had been weeping.
"Upstairs, monsieur; all with the mistress." Without a backward glance, Porthos strode down the hallway to the stairs. When he entered Eleanor's room he saw Anna, Aramis and d'Artagnan stood around the bed. Eleanor lay still and unmoving, her face pale and her hair still damp with sweat. Porthos stared at the girl, looking for any sign of life as he stepped into the room.
"Aramis?" His voice was soft as he closed the door. His friend looked up at him and stared, almost as though he did not register who stood in front of him. "Aramis what happened?"
"We worked all night." Aramis' voice was quiet with exhaustion. After a moment he shook himself and looked Porthos in the eye. "It worked, her fever's broken." Porthos breathed a sigh of relief and yes, now he looked closely he could see the shallow rise and fall of Eleanor's chest as she breathed.
"Well that's something." Porthos looked from one to the other; all of them looked utterly exhausted, their faces pale with dark rings around their eyes. "Go get some rest, I'll sit with her." They nodded gratefully, relief on their faces as they filed from the room. Porthos quietly closed the door and looked at the brightening sky as he unbuttoned his jerkin, draping it over a chair before settling down to keep watch over the sleeping girl. He had not been sat for long before the door opened and Athos stepped into the room, buttoning his jerkin over is shirt. Porthos saw his gaze sweep over the room, blue eyes widening slightly as he saw Eleanor's still form.
"S'alright, Athos; her fevers gone." Athos inclined his head in a grateful acknowledgement and Porthos watched his friend let out the breath he was holding.
"Has she..."
"Not woken up yet."
"The others?"
"Sleeping; they were with her all night."
"Alright; I'll stop at the garrison and tell Treville." He glanced at Eleanor once more, as though reassuring himself that she still lived and slipped out the door, shutting it softly behind him.
Treville stood beside the Queen, barely listening as the King rambled on about a hunting trip he wanted to go on, ignoring the Queen's gentle sigh. He could feel the gazes of Rochefort and the Cardinal as the men looked at him and it took every ounce of his soldiers control to stop himself driving his fists into their faces. When Athos had brought him the news that morning that Eleanor's fever had broken he had wanted to run straight to his house and see her, but the summons had come from the palace that he was to attend his majesty. He had been her for most of the day and had to admit to himself that he had never wanted to tell the King to shut up more than he did at this moment in time.
"How is your daughter, Captain?" The Queen's voice was soft, breaking him from his thoughts.
"She's still fighting, your majesty."
"I am glad to hear it."
"Glad to hear what?" The King was looking at them, his expression amused.
"That Captain Treville's daughter still lives."
"Getting better I hope." The King glanced at Treville.
"There is hope, at least. She is strong, Sire."
"Well that is good news."
"Does that mean that his majesty's musketeers will be able to return to their duties soon? They must be bored of playing nursemaids, unless of course they have found their true calling." The Cardinal's voice was soft and Rochefort smirked. Treville felt the temper that he had passed on to his daughter build within him.
"I would trust those musketeers over any of your men to protect my daughter."
"Well luckily my men are not at your disposal so we don't have to worry about that."
"That's enough, Cardinal." The King's irritation was clear, stopping the argument immediately. "Treville, have your men found the culprit yet?"
"Not yet, Sire."
"Tell them to keep looking, I want him found." With a last glance at Rochefort and the Cardinal he turned and left the room.
When Treville left the palace it was dark. He paused just outside, rubbing a hand over his eyes and letting the cool breeze blow across his face. He looked up sharply as rapid hoof beats approached; automatically he laid a hand on his pistol as a rider loomed into view, pulling up sharply in a spray of gravel. It took only a moment for Treville to realise the man in the saddle as he steadied the skittering horse.
"Porthos? What is it?"
"It's your daughter, sir."
"Oh God is she...?"
"She's awake, Sir."
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