Hi Everyone. Can't believe I'm on Chapter 20!

I know this update has taken longer than usual but presently I'm trying to write my thesis so updates may take a bit longer for the next few weeks. Of course it also happens to be a longer chapter as well!

Please be aware that there is some racial prejudice in this chapter which is meant in the context of the 17th century.

Hope you enjoy it! :)

Chapter Twenty

'Porthos?' Anne looked enquiringly at Tréville before blushing slightly. Tréville gave her a questioning look and she continued, 'Can I be honest?' Tréville nodded. 'He used to terrify me,' she said looking rather embarrassed. Tréville couldn't help himself and burst out laughing but immediately regretted it as his ribs started aching and he moved a hand to them as he grimaced slightly.

'Oh, I'm sorry,' Anne looked distraught at causing the man further pain but Tréville simply waved his hand as if to say he was fine.

'To be honest, Porthos tends to scare most people,' he chuckled, grinning broadly.

'Of course, now I know him to be gentle and caring but he really did use to frighten the life out of me! He's just so strong and powerful,' Tréville sensed a tinge of admiration her voice. 'I have no doubt he could crush a man with just a few blows.'

'He always was powerful and strong. Even when I first met him,' Tréville looked to Anne and confirmed that she wanted to hear more. 'I'm telling you this so you see how remarkable a man he is but many would see his origins as way to slight him,' Tréville gave Anne a warning look.

'I have told you Tréville, what is said in this room won't leave this room,' she paused. 'Ok, Constance may hear it but I'm certain she knows most of this already,' Anne looked to Tréville and could see the smile in his eyes.

'Porthos grew up in the Court of Miracles,' Tréville paused to see Anne's reaction.

'That can't have been easy,' she replied. 'The people there have nothing and I always worry about the poor children who are forced to steal to feed themselves. So many end up at the gallows,' she said sadly.

'Indeed, but it is a dangerous place to enter if you are not like them. Porthos grew up in abject poverty. He had nothing and his mother died while he was still young. He has every reason to hate the law and a country that did nothing to help him,' Tréville's eyes were sad but Anne knew that this particular story ended well.

'After Savoy I was tasked with returning the garrison to full capacity. I again searched the other regiments and I found myself at the infantry trials,' Tréville sighed as he remembered his search. 'For the infantry anyone can try out and if successful you earn money straight away and have lodgings and food provided. It means that many poorer men can earn a living,' he added as an extra explanation to Anne and she nodded that she understood.

'I was watching the trials and a dark-skinned young man caught my eye but I also knew that the captain in charge would never allow him into the infantry,' Anne looked puzzled at Tréville's words. 'Porthos colour works against him,' Tréville explained. 'The captain in charge believed that the King's army should not include those that were inferior.'

'He didn't like anyone who wasn't white,' she said dejectedly.

'I watched Porthos and it became clear that in a fight with no weapons no-one could touch him. He was a big man, strong but unusually light on his feet for a man of his size. He clearly had no training with a sword or a pistol.'

'I doubt they would have those in the Court,' Anne interrupted.

'No, they wouldn't except for weapons that were stolen. It was clear why the captain didn't sign Porthos up to the army though and to Porthos' credit he didn't make any kind of spectacle. I'm afraid he was used to this kind of treatment and unfortunately still is,' Tréville said dejectedly and Anne sighed heavily. 'I knew he had no money by looking at his clothes but I approached him anyway and asked if he would consider trying the Musketeers. He gave me a very strange look,' Tréville grinned towards Anne who smiled back.

'Considering he had just been denied the infantry, I'm sure he must have thought it was a joke about the Musketeers!' Anne said laughing.

'Indeed he did. He had heard that the Musketeers were the best and he thought I was having him on. Of course the Musketeers are the best and don't pay until they are commissioned but I explained to him that I wanted him to train with the Musketeers, as I was the Captain it was my decision, and I could get him work in the meantime.' Anne tilted her head curiously and waited for Tréville to continue.

'There was a baker, Monsieur Blanc-'

'That's an apt name,' Anne interrupted with a smile.

'Yes, I suppose it is for baker!' Tréville smiled. 'I'd never thought of that. He often needed help from the garrison in moving supplies and I often sent cadets to work for him while training. It meant they had lodgings and money and they spent the rest of the day at the garrison. Porthos agreed and soon he was showing what a good combat fighter he was. He was very lacking with a sword and pistol though,' Tréville couldn't help but smile at his memories.

'Did he ever tell you why he left the Court?' Tréville looked at her questioningly. 'I only meant, it must have been hard to leave what you know behind and he must have known how difficult it would be,' she added hastily thinking of how difficult it was for her to leave Spain.

'It's ok. I know what you meant,' Anne sighed in relief at his words. She truly did not want to offend anyone. 'He told me, he simply wanted more. Yes he could survive in the Court but he wanted to live and he had the courage to go after it but some of his friends did not. He continued to work for Blanc and his training improved but even in the Musketeers there was some dissent at having a man of darker skin in the regiment,' Tréville looked disappointed as he spoke.

'Some prejudices are hard to overcome,' Anne said quietly.

'True, but I hope now it isn't an issue as the Musketeer regiment relies on its ability to trust one and other. Back then we had the fourth son of the Duke of Bordeaux. Pompous idiot who was relatively good with a sword but he believed he was the best in the regiment! Daddy bought his commission of course.' Anne was surprised to hear Tréville speak so harshly of one of his men.

'You didn't like him?' she asked already knowing the answer.

'What gave it away?' Tréville responded with playful sarcasm and a quirk of his mouth. Anne tried to suppress her smile and failed. Louis never joked like that and she was sure she had heard this type banter before. Of course she had, with her musketeers. 'One day as training finished Bordeaux made a comment about dogs training and aimed it straight at Porthos,' Tréville frowned.

'That's horrible!' Anne exclaimed.

'I was on my way down to the courtyard when I heard a roar of 'Apologise!' and I turned to see Aramis who I hadn't realised was there. He was more incensed than I'd ever seen him. I don't think he even knew who Porthos was!' Tréville couldn't help the pride in his voice and he was sure Anne had heard it. 'Aramis challenged Bordeaux to a fight. Now normally I would stop that immediately but for some reason I decided to stay in the shadows watch,' he added with an air of confusion. 'Aramis told Bordeaux that if he won Bordeaux would have to apologise. Bordeaux asked what Aramis would do if he won and Aramis replied that he would resign his commission.'

'And you let it go ahead?' Anne looked bewildered.

'Strangely yes,' Tréville answered. 'It was the most emotion I had seen from Aramis in a long while. He had been so depressed. I felt he needed this. Porthos tried to protest but there was no going back. Honestly I thought Bordeaux would win,' Tréville started to smile. 'Aramis had other ideas,' Tréville saw the smile now wide on his Queen's face now mirroring his.

'He won then?' she smiled.

'In five moves,' Tréville said triumphantly. 'The old Aramis would have won in three moves but finally I started to hope that he was back. Bordeaux refused to apologise though and Aramis was beyond angry. Porthos managed to stop him by easily wrapping his arms around Aramis and lifting him of the floor,' the last words would said with laughs punctuating his speech and Anne found herself laughing too.

Once the laughing subsided and Tréville inwardly cursed his broken ribs, he continued, 'Bordeaux was adamant he was right and I eventually made my way down to the courtyard. Bordeaux insisted that I dismiss both Aramis and Porthos,' Anne's eyes were wide with shock.

'How dare he suggest that,' she said defiantly.

'I told him that neither Aramis nor Porthos would be dismissed. He then addressed the garrison grandly and stated that the Musketeers should be the finest regiment and I was not fit to lead them,' Tréville settled for an amused smirk while Anne momentarily had her mouth wide open in shock but soon closed her mouth when she realised what she was doing. 'He asked the regiment to decide, there was rather a big crowd now, whether they wanted vermin like them, he pointed to Aramis and Porthos, fighting alongside them or would rather have a pure regiment. He asked them to choose.'

Anne was holding her breath even though she was sure of the outcome.

'The men in one movement all went and stood behind Porthos and Aramis leaving the idiot alone,' the pride was clear in Tréville's voice. 'One of the proudest moments in my life,' he said earnestly.

'Surely Bordeaux couldn't stay?' Anne asked incredulously.

'Of course not. I stripped him of his commission there and then. Told him to pack his bags and leave. He couldn't get away fast enough.'

'And Aramis?' Anne tried not to look too interested but she longed to know what happened to her musketeer.

'Porthos thanked Aramis and somehow convinced him to go for a drink that night, which was quite a victory considering Aramis' mental state. After that Porthos tended to seek Aramis out and eventually got him used to being around others again. I think Porthos realised that Aramis had his own troubles and needed a friend while Aramis finally realised that there was someone there who cared. As the days went by I saw them together more often and Aramis was starting to look and sound like the young man I once knew. Aramis couldn't tell Porthos the truth but he did help improve Porthos' shooting skills while Porthos got Aramis back into shape. I remember when Porthos received his commission and the pride on Aramis' face and the joy pouring from him. Porthos had helped Aramis to live again and from then on they were nigh inseparable.'

The musketeers were sat uneasily at their regular table waiting for news. So far they had established that Tréville had accompanied the Queen to Dreux in the place of Louis and so far had not returned. D'Artagnan was anxious too as it was likely that Constance would have accompanied the Queen. All they could do was sit and wait.

'Joubert!' cried Gabriel as he saw the severely injured musketeer ride through the gates. The musketeers were up from there table in a flash and Porthos managed to gently pull Joubert from the saddle after D'Artagnan had untied the rope. Joubert was barely conscious but he managed to whisper, 'Letter,' before passing out. Athos grabbed the letter from underneath Joubert's saddle while Aramis was ordering men to get the infirmary ready while examining Joubert's wound.

We have your Queen and your Captain.

Bring these prisoners to the shack on the Dreux road in the La Queue-les-Yvelines wood as soon as possible or you will never see your Queen and Captain again.

Athos read the three names below. They sounded familiar but he couldn't quite place them

'Athos?' came Aramis' voice in the distance and Aramis took the letter and read it for himself before letting out a roar of anger.

'What?' Porthos immediately asked but it was Athos that answered.

'The Queen and Tréville are hostages,' he said calmly and without emotion.

'The bastards! I'll rip them apart!' Aramis couldn't contain his emotions anymore.

'What about Constance?' D'Artagnan asked with worry etched in his voice.

'It doesn't say,' Athos replied quietly while D'Artagnan ran his fingers through his hair worriedly.

Gabriel and the other men transported Joubert to the infirmary and Aramis for once hesitated to follow. As if by summons Dr. Lemay arrived at the garrison looking relaxed but tensed as he saw the faces of the musketeers.

Aramis moved towards him, 'Joubert has been shot. The ball has passed straight through his shoulder and he has just passed out. Most likely from blood loss,' he informed the doctor.

'Right. I shall see to him immediately,' Lemay moved off towards the infirmary.

'Jacques,' Athos called and the stable boy appeared. 'Find us four horses that can make it to the Louvre quickly please,' Jacques nodded and did as he was instructed and the musketeers moved to help him. They had to get to the palace as quickly as possible.

'So how did Athos become part of the regiment?' Anne asked curiously.

'Athos was a lucky find,' Tréville chuckled softly aware of his aching ribs. 'I still hadn't quite got the regiment up to its full number from before Savoy so I was still on the lookout for anyone with skill.'

'He is clearly skilled. Constance says he's the best in the regiment!' Anne smiled.

'And he is but the Athos I knew back then was very different,' he said solemnly. 'Athos had lost loved ones, I won't go into detail as it's private, but he was in the same sort of mind-set Aramis had been after Savoy.'

'Oh. I didn't realise,' Anne said quietly and visibly deflated.

'He had suffered, I suppose they all have, and like Aramis, Athos rather found alcohol a solution,' Tréville started to smile and Anne looked at him curiously. 'I suppose if he hadn't I would never have found him and he wouldn't be a musketeer!'

'Strange how things happen, isn't it?' Anne said knowledgably.

'Indeed it is,' Tréville agreed. 'I found him stumbling out of a tavern absolutely blind drunk. My first thought was he was just another drunk but I noticed his clothes although rather dirty and torn had originally been good quality. The sword he held bore the mark of the Comte de la Fère and was clearly expensive and well made. He had the misfortune to run into three Red Guards who started threatening him with the Châtelet for drunken behaviour. Normally I would have intervened but for some reason I stepped backed and watched. Athos disarmed them all easily and then they ran!' Tréville chuckled.

'Even completely drunk they were no match for him?' Anne asked in surprise.

'No match,' Tréville's eyes were twinkling with amusement. 'I offered him a chance at the Musketeer garrison but to be honest I didn't expect him to show. I was happily surprised to see him wander in the next day but I knew with the hurt he was displaying that he may have had other reasons to join.'

'What do you mean?' Anne asked looking slightly surprised at his statement.

'To be honest, Athos was so depressed that he was seeking an honourable death. To die serving the King would mean his death wouldn't be in vain and he could die with a sense of pride,' Tréville said sadly as Anne looked shocked at this revelation.

'I noticed his demeanour,' Tréville continued, 'and made sure that he was not put on dangerous assignments. Unlike most men who could afford to buy their commission Athos didn't and I sensed there was still some pride left in him. He kept himself to himself and rarely engaged anyone in conversation unless it was required. Short sentences as well.'

'From what I've heard, not much has changed,' Anne said cheekily.

'True,' Tréville nodded and smiled. 'But now he is actually capable of longer sentences, when required of course,' Tréville's eyes sparkled with mischief at his statement. 'He earned his commission quickly after he protected Louis at a function and tackled the attacker to the floor.'

'Yes, I think I remember that. That was Athos!' Anne said remembering the scene.

'Later I sent him out on missions with Aramis and Porthos who I hoped may bring him out of his shell. Aramis was starting to behave more like his old self and Porthos generally lifts moods if people let him,' Anne had the feeling Athos may not be a person who would allow Porthos to lift his mood. 'On one simple mission, they were delivering letters to nobles, they arrived back late with all them injured and Athos fighting for his life.'

'Thankfully he survived, unless the Athos we know is the undead,' Anne's eyes again sparkled with mischief and Tréville was glad to see this rarely seen side of his Queen.

'He did survive but it was quite a fight. Aramis and Porthos refused to leave his side the entire time. When I later confirmed to Athos that they hadn't moved from his side since they got him back to the garrison the man looked rather shocked,' Tréville fidgeted slightly. 'I don't think he expected the loyalty he had received from them and once he was awake I think he was slightly annoyed that they wouldn't leave him alone!'

'Did you know then that they would form such a close group?' Anne asked eagerly.

'No. I could never have imagined it but neither could I have imagined what happened next,' he said seriously while Anne looked curiously at him. 'Aramis and Porthos were severely injured when they were attacked by bandits,' Anne gave a gasp of shock at his words. 'Athos was still recovering from his own injuries but he wouldn't leave their side even when he was fit enough to leave the infirmary. I initially thought he was doing it to repay them but I soon realised that he had begun to warm to them both. Aramis was the worse off and then...his nightmares returned,' Tréville looked at Anne with a slightly haunted expression.

'Savoy,' she whispered.

'His nightmares were terrible and it can't have been easy for Athos and Porthos to watch. Soon they made the connection to Savoy and then, once Aramis was recovering, they confronted me,' Tréville sighed. 'To be honest it was a relief for someone else to know but mainly that I knew Aramis would have those he could talk to. It was clear from the moment they announced that they knew, they would not leave him. Friends, no brothers, he could trust with his secret,' Anne could hear the pride in Tréville's voice.

'That's when you knew?' Anne cocked her head to the left slightly as she asked.

'That they would be inseparable?' Anne nodded. 'Yes. They were men who all had their own demons but together they would find a way to overcome them. Some more than others but they would always have each other,' Tréville smiled with heartfelt pride as he thought of the bond between these men. 'Of course it was an added bonus that I had my best swordsman, best combat fighter and best marksman all in the same group,' he finished lightly.

Tréville looked to Anne, whose face was bathed in moonlight shining in from the small window, 'Many men tried to make that trio a quartet but none succeeded,' Tréville grinned broadly, 'until D'Artagnan.'

A/N: I hope you enjoyed my explanations of how Porthos and Athos joined the Musketeers. :)