Chapter 14 - Fall Out.

Hi readers I hope you all enjoy this chapter. I own none of the characters except the OC.

Catherine came back to consciousness gradually, something which she was rather grateful for. The dull sounds around her of twigs snapping and a regular beating rhythm were the first things to come back to her. Gradually the dull sounds became louder and sharper accompanied by the recognition that she was moving although obviously not of her own accord. Despite the motion Catherine had to admit she felt warm and surprisingly safe, a rather odd sensation given the fact she had no real idea where she was. Eventually Catherine opened her heavy eye lids a crack just enough to allow the faintest of light traces to enter. She regretted the action instantly. As soon as her neuronal senses were stung by the light the pain behind her eyes became suddenly very prominent. If she could have found her voice Catherine would have yelped with the pain. When she'd agreed to let Porthos knock her out, to create a distraction for Jacques, she had been under no illusion that there would be pain when she woke up. Unfortunately she rather underestimated how much pain she would be in. Porthos had said he would be a gentle as he could get away with but then Porthos probably didn't know his own strength Catherine growled to herself.

Whatever Catherine was feeling at the particular moment must have been somewhat visible on her face since the rocking motion ceased.

'What is it?' A voice asked from somewhere behind her.

'I think she's waking up.'

The deep dulcet tone of the man's voice and its closeness sent shockwaves through Catherine whose senses became instantly alert. That voice only belonged to one man. Athos.

Judging by the loudness of his voice he must be right next to her. The realisation jolted Catherine who opened her eyes and tried to move at the same time, something which turned out to be a huge mistake. As an almighty wave of pain shot through her head she swayed violently to the left side only to find something blocking her fall.

'Easy, easy,' Athos' voice commanded. 'Your safe, just breathe.'

Catherine was still failing around trying to get a grip and steady herself. The world was still a blur and she couldn't yet understand why she felt like she was going to fall off something but wasn't. As she needlessly tried to rebalance herself her stomach turned over and she felt hot bile rise up her throat.

'Nice.' Another voice commented from behind her.

'Yeah, nothing says romance like retching on someone.' Another voice that seemed to vaguely resemble that of Porthos laughed in the distance.

As Catherine continued to cough she felt a strong barrier around her the waist and another patting her back slowly.

'Breathe.' Athos commanded more forcefully than before.

'I think this might be a cue to set up camp.' Aramis' voice drifted into recognition.

'I'll go and get some water.' Constance said. At the sound of Constance's voice Catherine's mind flashed back to its last memory that she had left Constance in danger in the tavern. Once again she tried to struggle out of the grip holding her. She had to save Constance and Athos.

'Will you please stop struggling.' Athos grunted above her head.

As Athos spoke Catherine's mind raced to catch up to the present. If Constance had gone to fetch water and Athos evidently seemed to be holding her then they must be both be ok. She'd recognised Porthos and Aramis' voices which meant they were safe and that meant d'Artagnan was also likely to be safe as well.

Momentarily Catherine felt Athos' grip around her weaken and let out a cry half strangled by the coughing.

'I've got her don't worry.' Porthos' voice sounded much closer now.

Catherine felt the barrier behind her slide away as Athos dismounted from Bazajet to help lower her to ground.

'This is your fault,' she heard him mutter angrily.

'It was her idea.' Porthos grunted.

'And you couldn't have come up with a better way to create a distraction?' Athos demanded hotly.

'It was the more fool proof way.' Aramis called from where he was trying up his and Catherine's horses.

'Besides its not as bad as it looks,' Porthos added. 'I made it look worse using some blood from the chickens.'

'I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that!'

'Well there's no use arguing about it now.' D'Artagnan's voice sounded. 'It's done.'

Athos growled something unintelligible under his breath but dropped the topic.

'Get some wood d'Artagnan.' He said. 'Aramis get something to eat since I don't suppose you brought supplies.'

'We didn't.' Aramis admitted. 'But they seemed to have.'

'Anything good?' Porthos asked.

'Not much just bread and cheese.'

'It'll do.' Athos said bluntly. 'Share it out between us if there's enough.'

'I've got the water.' Constance called.

There was the momentary clatter of pots and bags being dropped on the ground before Catherine felt a hand prop her head up and something cold against her lips.

'Drink.' A fuzzy looking Athos said quietly.

Catherine managed a few mouthfuls and as she settled down the world drifted into its usual focus. Aramis, Porthos and d'Artagnan were sat stoking a small fire, Constance was knelt down on Catherine's left and Athos was lent on a tree to her right, both were watching her intently.

'How are you feeling?' Constance asked pushing her hand against Catherine's forehead.

'Fine.' Catherine croaked. Athos snorted and Catherine looked at him. Granted it was a lie but at the same time it was much easier to just say she was fine rather than complain.

'Hmm,' Constance murmured. 'You've taken quite a knock on the head. That will bruise for weeks.'

'Its not that bad!' Porthos cried yet again.

'Shut up Porthos.' Athos snapped a little more harshly than he had intended too.

'Athos don't.' Catherine sighed. 'He did what he had to.'

Athos turned his hard gaze back to her. 'And what did I say to you about not acting rashly. I suppose this was all your idea?' His voice was calm but there was an edge to it that suggested it was more of a forced calm than anything else.

'Not entirely!' Constance snapped at him. 'Most people would be grateful that someone came looking for them when they're in trouble!'

'But you put yourself in danger!' d'Artagnan cried.

'Oh be quiet! How many times do I have to tell you I want to be treated as an equal?'

'That's got nothing to do with it.' d'Artagnan protested.

'Doesn't it?' Constance challenged. 'When are you going to start letting me care about you as you do me?'

D'Artagnan opened his mouth to reply but found nothing to say to her words. Instead he dropped his head sheepishly and went back to picking at his bread and cheese.

'One thing puzzles me.' Aramis spoke up and everyone turned to look at him. 'How did you two get leave from the Queen to come and find us?'

Now it was Constance's turn to look sheepish while Catherine found something very interesting on the floor to occupy her attention.

'You didn't get leave did you?' Athos asked, the anger beginning to build behind his words.

'Not exac…well…no.' Constance finally admitted.

The three men around the fire shared a disparaging look, Athos pushed himself off the tree and stomped off into the darkness.

'Give him time,' Porthos advised. 'He needs to calm down a little.'

'Is he always this short tempered?' Catherine asked after a few moments of silence.

'When he's upset then yes.' Aramis sighed. 'Don't worry he'll come back soon.'

Aramis, d'Artagnan and Constance settled down to rest by the fire with Porthos keeping the first watch. Catherine should have gone to sleep but she couldn't help worrying about Athos.

'He'll be fine.' Porthos reassured evidently reading her mind. 'Usually he just drinks when he gets like this, but there's no wine out here.'

Catherine looked at the tall musketeer and gave a small unconvinced smile.

'He drinks a lot then?'

Porthos' face demonstrated that he was evidently trying to see if there was any possible way to describe Athos' drinking habits but if there was he certainly couldn't see it.

Catherine looked at the floor, unsure of what to make of the implicit confession. Athos didn't seem like a drunk to her, but then how well did she really know him?

After a few minutes of silence Porthos looked up and spoke again.

'Its not that bad is it?' He asked hesitantly.

Catherine smiled at him.

'No its fine Porthos, really.' She insisted. 'Its… all fine.'

'Forgive me?'

'There is nothing to forgive Porthos.' Catherine gave a lop sided smile.

At that moment, and true to Aramis' word, Athos returned looking tired but decidedly more calmer. He did not miss the way a spark appeared to illuminate itself in Catherine's eyes as he walked back into camp. But he wasn't quite ready to forgive her yet.

Athos fixed Porthos with an apologetic look 'Get some rest Porthos,' he said quietly. 'I'll keep watch.'

Porthos nodded, a clear indication that he accepted the apology and went to settle down by Aramis and d'Artagnan. Athos in his turn settled down next to Catherine, his back slumped against the same tree.

The pair of them waited until the sound of Porthos' snores joined that of his brothers before Athos spoke.

'Why?'

'Why what?' Catherine asked.

'Don't play the fool,' Athos said coldly. 'It doesn't suit you.'

Catherine looked at the still blazing fire. 'You all went missing and Constance was worried about d'Artagnan.'

'But the idea was yours?'

'What makes you say that?' she asked.

'I admire Constance but I do not think she would shirk her duties to the Queen to come looking for us.' Athos mused.

Catherine didn't answer. Athos sighed and pulled his hat off his head.

'I'm trying to be patient here.' He said. 'But you're not making it easy.'

'Should I be?' Catherine smiled faintly.

Athos tried again. 'Why did you come?'

'You already know the answer.' Catherine said quietly. 'I came looking for you for the same reason you came to apologise to me and insisted on staying with me when I was ill.'

It was the closest she was going to get to saying she had some feelings for him. Something inside of her knew that perhaps so bold an assertion was not a good idea but she was too tired and sore to care much about the politics of courtship.

Athos sighed and put his head in his hands. He understood the assertion implicit within Catherine's statement all too well and if he was to be brutally honest with himself he would have to admit he felt the same about her. But Athos was not ready to admit to himself, let alone out loud, that Catherine infuriated his entire being in virtually every sense of the word. There were after all so many negative points to consider. Athos hardly knew Catherine and she hardly knew him. Catherine had to be at least ten years his junior if not slightly more and, although such matches were far from uncommon in seventeenth century Paris, Athos had never considered himself as one of those types of gentlemen. But even worse was the fact that after his wife Anne, Athos had sworn he was done with romance and women for the remainder of his life. Athos only had to look at Catherine to know that as of yet she carried no baggage in that aspect of life while he, on the other hand, had to drink just to keep going under the weight of his own. Things had gotten easier after he disposed of Anne's locket but Athos found that when he thought about Catherine he could not stop the flood of torturous memories. The more Athos pondered the situation the more convinced he became that he was the last man in the world who could ever make Catherine happy.

'What are you thinking?' Catherine's voice jilted him out of his reverie.

'Perhaps you misunderstood my actions,' Athos began, feeling a deep knot beginning to tighten around his heart. 'I came to apologise to you because, as you so blatantly pointed out, my behaviour as a gentleman was unseemly. When you passed out so carelessly on the floor it would have been unfitting for me to just leave you there so I did my duty and carried you to your rooms.'

'You did not have to carry me yourself nor did you have to stay with me.' Catherine pointed out, more to herself than to Athos.

'I thought if I did I could somewhat redeem my reputation.' Athos said doing his best to keep his voice cold. 'This is for the best,' he kept on telling himself. 'Make her reassume her original opinions about you and she'll want nothing more to do with you.' But Athos was to be surprised by Catherine's tenacity.

'Why are you being like this?' She asked after a moment. 'You expect me to be honest with you and yet you can't be honest with me.'

'I am being honest with you.' Athos said plainly.

Catherine snorted and turned onto her left side. 'Continue to lie to yourself all you want then Athos. At least that way I can continue do the same.'

'You are thoroughly mistaken.' Athos tried harder this time. 'If you think I would ever allow myself to become close to such a naïve and careless little girl.'

Catherine turned back over and looked him dead in the eye. 'And you are mistaken if you think I would ever allow my feelings to be dictated to by a scared drunk.' She snapped.

Their eyes remained locked on each others as both sought for dominance over the other. Catherine could read the lie in Athos' eyes as much as he could read her feelings for him in hers. Eventually Athos turned away to stare at his sleeping companions. Athos realised that he envied them on so many levels.

He started when he felt a soft hand curl around his own.

'If it helps I'm scared too.' Catherine said softly and as much as he tried Athos couldn't avoid looking at her eyes as she spoke. 'I know that I would have come looking for you whether Constance had chosen to accompany me or not. I feared that something terrible had happened to you and for some strange reason that thought strikes the fear of God in me. My uncle taught me how to conquer fear using a blade but he never taught me how to deal with whatever this is. I would rather take on the whole company of musketeers single handed than have to deal with this.'

Suddenly Catherine remembered her duel with poor Davide at the garrison. She recalled her brief elation at winning and the release from the stress and tensions that she had felt after coming to Paris. Furthermore she remembered her uncle training her that duelling was a language of swords and people. Duelling was also a language that both her and Athos understood as a common ground. Maybe just maybe a duel or fencing match would be a way forward.

Catherine looked up once more to find Athos staring intently at her. Despite the pain in her head Catherine narrowed her eyes mischievously.

'I might just have come up with the way to resolve this.' she grinned.

'Oh and what might that be?' Athos raised his eyebrows at the turn around.

'A duel.'

'Excuse me?' Athos asked incredulously.

'You heard me.' Catherine raised her eyebrows suggestively.

'Have you taken complete leave of your senses?' Athos snapped.

'No, hear me out. We seem to have effectively established that neither of us is particularly good at expressing ourselves clearly by words so lets communicate with each other in a language that we both understand - the sword.'

'I'm not duelling you!' Athos snapped.

'Why are you scared you'll lose?' Catherine teased.

'No because its a preposterous idea!' Athos retorted turning slightly pink.

'Is it though?'

'Yes! You have a head injury for a start, second you're a woman and soldiers don't…'

Athos never got to the end of his sentence because Catherine had taken one of Athos's gloves and slapped him across the face with it.

'Remember what I did to the last man who thought I couldn't fight because I was a woman!' She warned, half hoping the slap would be enough to push Athos over the edge.

Athos rubbed his jaw, snatched the glove out of her hand and stood up abruptly.

'I wasn't implying that you couldn't fight because you were a woman, I was going to say that I could not fight you under the rules of chivalric soldiery! Now I am going to take that outburst as a result of your recent injury and advise you to stop before you really go too far.' Athos' voice had gone dangerously cold and with the last statement he turned and stalked off.

Catherine was still incredibly sore but she was not about to give up now that there was finally some fire in the man's countenance. Pulling herself up and biting back the pain in her head she stumbled after him.

'What's the matter Athos I just slapped you in the face are you scared to defend your honour against an equal?' She hissed at the retreating figure. Athos stopped dead but did not turn.

'Go back to the camp now.' He said darkly.

'No!' Catherine snapped defiantly. 'For somebody who professes to love his honour so much you have a funny way of defending it.'

'Leave NOW!' Athos growled.

'So someone slaps you in face and challenges you to a duel and you walk away,' Catherine jeered. 'I do believe that makes you a coward in the eyes of your precious code.'

She had said enough. Athos lunged at her with his rapier drawn so fast that Catherine barely had time to draw her own from its hiding place under her outer skirt. She did not give Athos time to deliberate on what he had just done and lunged at him. Steel met steel with a fierce clash. Catherine had expected Athos to attack driven by anger at her statement, but was surprised to find that his eyes were cool and calculating. Both combatants separated and began to circle around the other en guarde. Catherine attacked Athos again trying as always to assess her opponent for weaknesses. She quickly found that he matched her perfectly on agility, speed and precision but that he was physically stronger than her and slightly better balanced, something which Catherine attributed to his many years of practice. While Athos favoured the right Catherine also noted he was strong on the left. He was flexible but not as flexible as she was.

As fast as Catherine learned about Athos so he learned about her. Like him she had ample ability to remain cool and calm which she edged with agility and precision of touch. She was not as balanced on the left as she was on the right and was definitely not stronger than he in any stance. While her youth shone through her tactics all too clearly as surprising maturity was embodied by her finesse and general skill. She was a good opponent, certainly as good as d'Artagnan who was still learning under him and that was saying a lot.

They continued to fight each other for at least two minutes a long time considering most duels were over in under a minute. The parries echoed their frustration, the lunges their determination to make the other back down. The sounds of clashing swords had of course woken the others by the fire who had rushed up to see what was happening and now watched with great interest the pair tackle each other.

It had to end eventually. And it did with a draw. Athos brought his rapier to Catherine's stomach but failed to stop her blade prodding his right side.

'Seems like we are both matched and both dead.' Catherine said breathlessly.

Athos paused for a moment also breathing heavily and then lowered his sword. Catherine followed suit.

'And you lectured me on injuring her.' Porthos guffawed from the side.

'She asked for it.' Athos snapped.

'She's better than I thought.' Aramis teased. 'I can't remember the last time someone drew against you Athos.'

'We should get on the road lest the Captain send the whole blasted regiment after us.' Athos growled as he sheathed his blade. 'D'Artagnan get the horses ready.'

'Its too dark to go anywhere yet.' Constance protested failing to hide her smile at Athos' evident discomfort.

'It will be dawn soon. D'Artagnan please get the horses ready.' Athos repeated stalking back off to the camp site wiping his forehead as he went.

Catherine watched him go her own head pounding miserably. The fight hadn't quite had the reaction she had hoped for. Instead of easing the friction between them it only seemed to have increased it. Sighing she sheathed her own blade back beneath her skirts. Could she possibly have made the situation any worse?