Thank you again for all your lovely reviews! And thanks to my silent readers too, I hope you're enjoying the ride! Athos in this chapter is just...GAH NO WORDS FOR MY SQUEE
The Musketeers belongs to the BBC
Chapter 13. Going places.
The journey had started out fairly comfortable, the sun shining on their backs, a light breeze playing in their hair, but after about an hour, the fast approaching clouds opened, and they were hit by a downpour of spring rain. A shower, Aramis had assured them. But half an hour in, soaked to the bone, the rain was doing nothing for Claude's spirits.
The dull ache in her stomach was back, if not worse this time, to the point where she felt slightly sick. She almost wished she'd stayed back at the garrison, not that she'd be telling a certain musketeer that. Athos' remark was still biting into her mind, another reason for her dark mood perhaps. She hadn't spoken to him the entire journey, keeping near the back of the group with Aramis, who's headache had lessened, and was considerably more cheerful.
"Well at least you're more comfortable around horses now," He was pointing out, as a great fat droplet of rain fell from the tip of Claude's nose.
"Yes, well, I would hope so, considering my job," Claude retorted, and she heard the musketeer give a chuckle. She pulled the hood of her travel cloak further down, but it didn't help much.
Another wave of pain hit her stomach, and she fought the grimace that her face wanted to morph into. No point gaining any attention, it wasn't like she could tell them what was wrong. Her eyes focused ahead, coming to rest on the back of the musketeer leading the group. She must have been scowling, because apparently Aramis noticed.
"Don't take Athos' temper personally," The man beside her told her quietly. "He's just worried about you,"
"Why would he be worrying about me?" She mumbled back grumpily.
"Contrary to his gruff exterior, he does care," Aramis told her. "And when you disappeared, he didn't take it so well. I'd hate to think how he would have reacted if we'd been too late,"
Claude's scowl slipped slightly, as she fought to stay angry. Angry was better than the alternative, which was just plain upset. And crying was the last thing she needed to do right now. But the problem was, she knew Athos was right to be angry. Wouldn't she be? Her scowl slipped altogether, and she sighed, looking down at the reigns of her horse.
"He's right," She muttered to Aramis. "It was wrong to run off. And I'm sorry for causing trouble, I am. But he wasn't going to let me help, and I needed to-"
"Then tell him that," He urged quietly.
Claude looked back up, watching the musketeer in front. "I will," She turned to Aramis, a small smirk on her face. "But he can stew for a little while first,"
He gave a chuckle, adjusting his soaked hat on top of his head. The sound of hooves behind them grew louder, and Porthos appeared on Aramis' other side.
"What are you ladies gossiping about?"
"Oh nothing," Aramis gave Claude a knowing wink. "We're just discussing the smell of your boots," He screwed up his face, waving his hand in front of his nose. "We can smell them from here,"
Porthos rolled his eyes, and spurred his horse forward, ignoring the amused chuckling that followed him.
By late afternoon, the rain had finally stopped, leaving a cold, damp that sunk through to the bones. The clouds were thinning slightly, but it was growing dark, night fast approaching. The air was chillier, and Claude found herself wrapping her cloak closer around herself. So when Athos finally announced that they would stopping for the night, she was extremely relieved.
The nearest inn wasn't too far away, but by the time they reached it, the sun had almost set. It was a cosy little place, at the side of the road, not far from a small village. Claude had lowered herself from her horse, stiff and aching, and followed the musketeers into the inn. It was warm, warm and bright, a roaring fire bringing a much needed heat to the room. They paid for their rooms; one each, the inn wasn't busy. The thought of sinking into a nice, cosy bed was extremely tempting, but the smell of food was even more so.
The barmaid was a pretty woman, not much older than Claude, with rosy cheeks, and full lips. She smiled as the tired travelers approached, but Claude wasn't paying too much attention. Her stomach was gurgling loudly, and a steaming bowl of soup she recieved would be welcome indeed, complete with a massive chunk of crusty bread. She was about to leave the bar, before having second thoughts, and gave a few more coins to the barmaid, returning to the table with a bottle of wine, which she placed down in front of Athos. A peace offering. He rose an eyebrow in question, and then gave a slow nod of thanks. Claude gave a curt nod back, and then turned her attention to the soup.
It was divine. She devoured her helping quickly, mopping up what was left with the bread, and then sat back in her chair, leaning on the wall behind with a contented sigh. The others were quietly talking among themselves, about what, she didn't notice. Her eyes shut for a few seconds, or at least it felt like that, before she received a gently prod.
"Go to bed," Porthos chuckled. "You're dead on your feet,"
Claude opened her mouth to argue, and then shut it with a snap, giving a resigned, tired laugh. "Alright. I'll see you all in the morning,"
Porthos wasn't far off. As soon as Claude's head hit the pillow, she was dead to the world.
Claude awoke to the sound of giggling. She was confused at first, disorientated as her eyes focused in the gloom. Who was laughing? It wasn't time to get up already was it? She felt sluggish, her legs still tired from the horse ride, although the ache in her stomach had eased somewhat. The giggling continued, punctuated by a male voice. Claude blinked, and then sat up, surveying her surroundings.
Of course. She was at the inn. She gave a short yawn, before sighing and lying back down again, rolling over to press her face into the warm pillow. But she couldn't press out the noise. The giggling stopped for a second, and then was replaced by another noise, one that made her cheeks flair up, red and hot. There was no way she could get back to sleep now. Claude grabbed the pillow, covering her head with it and screwing her eyes tight shut. Who was that? She couldn't tell which direction it was coming from, and anyway, she'd retired before the others, so she had no way of knowing who occupied which room.
There would be one of them on either side of her however. And who was the woman? One of the other patrons? The bar maid? The noises of pleasure pierced through the fabric of the pillow, making Claude huff out a weary sigh. It was probably Aramis again, or maybe Porthos, possibly even young D'Artagnan. The former certainly seemed to have a way with the ladies. But what if- no, she shoved that idea from her head. But it reared up again, taunting her. It might be Athos. And so what if it was? Why should that matter to her?
The ball of jealousy that had developed that morning rose again, and she wrestled with it, unsuccessfully. Why should she care if Athos was entertaining women? It wasn't like she was interested in him, or vice versa. Why would he be? No, it was probably just the attention she'd been getting lately. She didn't want to share it. That was it, right?
Claude swallowed dryly, letting out a small groan as the noises next door rose to a crescendo. Sighing, she swung the covers back, grabbing her boots and slipping them on, before rising from the bed, taking her jerkin with her. There was no point staying listening to it, she may as well get some fresh air. The noises were still echoing down the corridor when she opened the door to her room, so she slipped out quietly enough, closing her door quickly and softly behind her, before turning to set off down the stairs.
"Claude?" Came a voice behind her, and she turned to find Athos standing at the door to the room to her right. By the looks of it, he was just going in, there were tired bags under his eyes, but he didn't seem as drunk as previous nights. "Why are you up so late?"
"Couldn't sleep," She muttered, the blush returning to her cheeks. As if to prove her point, another loud cacophony came from the room to her left, spurring on her blush all the more.
"Ahh," Athos gave a knowing smile. "Yes, I believe Aramis is getting himself acquainted with the barmaid,"
A sense of relief seemed to flood Claude suddenly, standing there in the hallway. She felt her spirits rise slightly, but still felt slightly confused. Why had she been jealous in the first place? It seemed silly now, an overreaction. She cleared her throat.
"A-Anyway, I'm just going to get some fresh air. I'm not going to run off or anything, I promise," She assured him.
"I believe you," He inclined his head politely, and then turned to enter his room. Giving a relieved sigh, Claude turned away, heading down the stairs, but was stopped as Athos called out. "May I join you?"
Join her? Claude felt a nervous flutter in her stomach, but it calmed, and she gave a nod, smiling slightly. The musketeer followed her down the stairs in silence. The main room was empty now, as they passed through it, with the locals returned home, and the patrons in their own rooms. The fire still crackled, low and dull, but the room was still warm. They continued on, out into the crisp night air. The days clouds had moved off, revealing a star filled sky, deep and hypnotic. The air was full of the scent of spring flowers, and grass, fresh and intoxicating in comparison to the stench of the city. The walked a little down the track, away from the inn, Claude waiting with baited breath for the Musketeer to break the silence. But it wasn't until they came to rest, leaning against the fence at the side of the track, that Athos finally spoke.
"I would like to make an apology," His voice was polite as always. "I believe I spoke harshly earlier. I did not mean to cause you any upset,"
The girl was clearly taken aback, unsure how to reply. She hesitated, and it occurred to Athos, that perhaps, she wasn't so used to people making any form of apology. When she finally replied, her voice was slightly shaky, her nerves apparent.
"It- it's alright. You did have a point, I went behind your back-"
He interrupted her. "You had your reasons. And I respect them. I understand that losing those that you love can force you to take matters into your own hands. I would only hope in future that you would trust us to help you further,"
"Of course, of course!" She replied hurriedly. "What I did was foolish, I see that now. But it seemed like the only way once my secret was out. I knew no one would let me help once they found out. And that wouldn't have been fair,"
Athos surveyed her for a second, taking note of the passion with which she spoke. Although she still seemed nervous, her eyes were ablaze with the same emotion that he had seen many times since meeting her. This girl would not give up, not when her friends were involved. Loyal to a fault. The musketeer sighed.
"No, it wouldn't have been,"
Claude's eyes widened at his admission, and then quickly looked away, up at the stars. The twinkling sky had a calming effect on her, and she felt herself being drawn into the sight. There'd been many a clear night that she'd lain outside, looking up at the stars as she fell asleep. The night sky was both mesmerising and humbling. It really reinforced how tiny she was, significant in a massive world, just another person scrabbling around to survive.
"The heavens watch us in our sleep." She muttered suddenly. "That's what my mother used to tell me. I'm not sure whether that's a comforting thought or not. What must the dead think of us? Still living while they're gone, before their time," She gave a sigh, rubbing her neck absent mindedly, her fingers tracing over the fresh scar of her wound. "Do you think man will ever reach the stars?"
Athos gave a chuckle. "Certainly not in our life time, if at all,"
"Really Athos, you must learn to raise your aspirations!" Claude mocked lightheartedly, producing another chuckle from the musketeer. A warm glow developed in her chest, and she found herself smiling, a real, genuine smile.
"My aspirations will remain firmly on the ground in the meantime. You have an interest in astronomy?"
Claude raised an eyebrow in question. "Astro..nomy?"
"The study of the cosmos," Athos explained.
"Oh," The girl blushed in feint embarrassment at her lack of vocabulary. "Yes, I suppose I do. Not that I know anything about it. It's difficult to get much learning in, living on the streets,"
Athos frowned. "Of course, my apologies" He paused for a second, a thought crossing his mind. "Claude, am I correct in assuming you can neither read or write,"
Her blush growing, smile no longer on her face, Claude scowled and nodded a reply.
"Would you like to learn?"
Athos couldn't help but smile as the girls face lit up, her excitement evident. She nodded once more, although with much greater enthusiasm. He couldn't bring her friends back, or reverse the events of the past few weeks, but perhaps there was something he could do to make the girl's life easier, more enjoyable. Once again, he found a voice at the back of his head questioning his interests, but it was quiet, easy to ignore. For now, the smile on Claude's face was argument enough.
Athos turned out to have much greater patience teaching the alphabet that he did sword fighting, and Claude was greatly relieved by this. It was late at night, but although her body was tired, her mind was wide awake, and active, sitting at the small table in Athos' room, watching him sweep the quill over the parchment in front of him, enunciating each letter that he wrote. His script was neat, thought out, although Claude was unsure if that was purely for her benefit.
When he'd finished writing out the whole alphabet, he'd handed her the quill, her hands shaking with excitement, and asked her to copy each letter below, encouraging her to name them as she went. As she placed the quill to paper the first time, and attempted to scrape it across, Claude pressed to hard, a great splodge of ink marking the parchment. She looked up at the musketeer nervously, but he didn't seem angry. Instead, he took her hand gently, and demonstrated the pressure she should be using.
"Here," He told her, dragging her hand slowly across the parchment. "A light touch is all you need,"
Claude ignored the rapid beating of her heart, putting it down to nerves, allowing him to guide her hand. When they were done, a shaky "a" sat on the page, and she grinned to herself, confidence growing, before starting on the next letter.
Her hand writing was messy, barely readable at best, but she was picking it up, muttering the letters under her breath as she went. When she was done, she sat back, looking at her handy work, and handed the quill back to Athos, who began writing once more. A word, six letters long. She had no idea what it said, but he held the quill out to her again, looking expectant. She took it from him slowly, dipping the tip into the ink well, and began to write.
C...L...A...U...D...E
She mumbled the letters once more as she wrote, but the meaning was not yet apparent to her. Once she was finished, she sat the quill down carefully on the table, and looked at the Musketeer. There was a small smile on his face, and a look, was that pride?
"Congratulations," He told her. "You've written your name,"
"My name?!" She sucked in a breath, looking down at the parchment once more, and then let out a shaky laugh. She'd written her name. This is what it looked like. The grin on her face was infectious, and Athos found his smile growing. "Thank you Athos! Thank you!"
"You should get some rest," He told her. "But if you wish to continue, I will teach you, when you have time,"
He rose from the table, rolling up the parchment and handing it to her. She clasped it with a tight grip, as if she didn't want to let go. The excitement was still in her eyes, she looked proud enough to burst.
"That would be...brilliant! Absolutely brilliant! Really, I can't thank you enough!" Much to the musketeer's surprise, the young woman stood on the tips of her toes, reaching up and placing a quick, grateful kiss on his scratchy cheek, before turning and almost skipping to he door in delight. "Goodnight!"
The door to his room closed after her, and he could hear hers open and shut. It was a good few minutes before Athos realised he was still standing in the same place. He reached a hand up, touching his cheek where he could still feel a ghost of a touch, mind in a complete turmoil of confused emotions.
"Goodnight Claude," he muttered, and then turned to his own bed.
SQUEEEEEE GAH it's too much I can't-