Too hard
This one is for "sara" who wished for a story, where Athos hurts Aramis accidentally. Furthermore it's the last plot I've on my list, so give me more to write!
Sweat already dripped down Aramis face and stained his white shirt. His breath went fast and his muscles ached with every movement. Still he didn't want to stop. He enjoyed it too much, furthermore he needed more practice. Though it felt like the four years in the monastery never happened on the one hand, he knew that he got rusty. His movements were still very gracile and it still looked as if he danced with his opponents but his strokes weren't as hard as they used to be and his concentration faded faster.
Aramis was just defending a stroke from Porthos as he saw Athos' sword approach. He ducked just in time to not be defeated by the swordsman. Unfortunately he lost his dagger, as Porthos hit it out of his hand. Just one sword and alone against two attackers. Somehow the marksman managed to sidestep so Porthos and Athos swords, which were meant to hit him in the same moment, collided. The medic used the moment of surprise to get Porthos dagger and a grin formed on his face as his brothers came up to him. "Don't think you're good, we just wanted to give you a chance." Porthos laughed before he reached back for another stroke.
Soon Aramis found himself panting and hitting a pillar with his back. He still managed to disarm Porthos completely, which left him and Athos. Aramis parried a few strokes and had the place at the pillar by now. Athos has always been a fighter who liked to stay at one place, he never moved more than a few meters in a duel. Aramis on the other hand was a dancer and he used every meter he had. Once he was at the left, near the barns, then he was at the other side, right beside the tables. Aramis jumped onto a bench, which forced an annoyed sigh from Athos. He wanted to fight, not to climb around the garrison. Nevertheless he found himself on the bench a second later, forcing Aramis to the end with every step. While the marksman tried to not lose his balance, Athos took the opportunity to push him down. Aramis let out a small groan as the table hit him in the back, before he stood up again and fight back but the fall has coursed the sword to fall out of his hands.
"Maybe you should fight more and dance less," Athos suggested with a smile on his lips as he laid down his weapons. Aramis laughed slightly but stopped as a sharp pain shot through his back. He held back a wince and collected his weapons instead. The swordsman didn't seem to notice the pain his brother was in, but you couldn't reproach him for that. Aramis has always been good in hiding his pain.
Two hours later the four musketeers arrived at the palace. Blue capes hang around their shoulders as they needed to look presentable to the royals. Many high-born would come to the feast the king had organized, at which the musketeers had to keep watch. They split up to get a better view over the whole throne hall. D'Artagnan and Porthos were in the front, right beside the king's and queen's thrones, while Athos and Aramis were each watching over one of the two doors, through which the guests entered.
Aramis had already looked over his back at the garrison and had noticed the dark blue bruises which formed on the middle of his back. He feared that one of his vertebras was sprained. This wouldn't be dangerous, but would hurt for a while. The pain had already overwhelmed him while they had rode to the palace, the many hours he had to stay straight now weren't improving the unease he was in.
It was late in the night as the musketeers were finally allowed to leave the palace. While Porthos and d'Artagnan were eager to get home fast to rest, Aramis went after them more slowly. Every step shot another wave of pain through his body and every movement with is arms coursed the same. As he tried to mount up a painful groan left his lips. Sitting in his saddle, Aramis tried to calm down his fastening breath. "You okay?" Athos asked concerned. "I'm fine." Aramis answered, gave his horse a slight kick and rode off. The Captain watched his musketeer careful on their way back to the garrison and didn't miss the times in which Aramis clenched his eyes shut. As the marksman dismounted he couldn't hold back another groan. "You're hurt. Where and why?" Athos dismounted and blocked Aramis' way to his room. "It's nothing."
"As your Captain I want to know where you're hurt and why. That's an order." Aramis sighed in defeat. "My back from my fall earlier. It's nothing big, just a small bruise." Athos shook his head in disbelief. Just a small bruise could be everything from a cut to a broken bone in Aramis' world. "Let me see it."
The medic knew that it would be useless to discuss with Athos, so he turned around and lifted his doublet. The swordsman hissed as he saw the dark bruise along his brother's back. "I'm sorry Aramis. I didn't mean to hurt you like that." His heart had sunk into his knees as he had understood what he had done to one of his own brothers. Of course they got smaller bruises in training, but Athos never wanted to hurt one of the other musketeers so much. He should have thought this through, before he pushed Aramis down. He should have known what could happen.
"Don't worry my friend, it will get better soon. Moreover it's a kind of revenge for the one time I accidently broke your wrist, isn't it."
Athos smiled slightly, even though he wasn't fully convinced he nod. He would definitely look after the marksman for the following days more than normal.
