A/N: Pre-series

Summary: Porthos gets paired with Vrita

"Promotion"

Porthos shifted anxiously at the gate between the Musketeer garrison and royal dragon compound, not quite ready to crank the knob and pass through, even though he had an appointment with the royal dragon keeper, Jean Bonacieux. It probably wouldn't do on his first day as a Musketeer dragon rider to be late.

"It's not going to open itself," came a blandly sardonic voice.

Porthos huffed as Athos and Aramis approached him, their dragons Savron and Grettir following close behind.

"Don't tell me you're nervous," Aramis said with that unruffled smile of his.

"I'm not nervous," Porthos replied defensively. "It's jus'…a big deal is all."

Earning his promotion in the regiment to the rank of dragon rider had been monumental in and of itself. But now came the even bigger step—getting paired with a dragon. A dragon that would be his partner from here on out, and hopefully, as was the case with Aramis and his dragon, even friends.

"It is a rather simple process," Athos said. He'd earned his dragon a few weeks earlier, though he'd taken it with the same measure of laconic enthusiasm that he did his morning porridge.

Aramis shot him a wry look before turning back and clapping Porthos on the shoulder. "You've earned this, my friend."

Porthos rubbed his hands together; he supposed there was nothing for it. With a nod to his friends, he grasped the door knob and gave it a twist, then pushed his way through. There was nothing to be nervous about, he told himself.

Unless, suppose none of the dragons currently available wanted to pair with him? What if they could smell how new he was to being around them? Sure, Aramis and his dragon Grettir had worked with Porthos for months helping him get the hang of working with one of the majestic winged creatures, but he still didn't possess the calm confidence Athos did. Or maybe they'd have an aversion to him just as he was. A lot of folks did. That would be the ultimate humiliation, snubbed by all the dragons in the compound…

"Good morning, Porthos," Jean Bonacieux greeted genially.

Porthos jerked himself out of his tumultuous thoughts. "Mornin'."

Bonacieux flashed him a kind smile. "Nervous?"

Porthos drew his shoulders back in an attempt to look composed. "No, sir."

"Nothing wrong if you were," the dragon keeper said, turning to lead the way to the dens in the back. "A dragon is a fierce creature to be respected, not a pet."

"I know that, sir."

"Call me Jean, lad. Now, sometimes I let a man choose his dragon, or the dragon choose its rider. But in this case, I have just the pairing in mind for you."

Porthos swallowed, unsure what to make of that statement. Did Jean not trust Porthos to make his own choice? Not that he knew where to even start if it was up to him.

Jean walked up to a den and opened the gate wide. Inside lay a green dragon who calmly lifted its head at their arrival.

"This is Vrita," Jean introduced. "Vrita, this is Porthos. He's in need of a dragon."

The green dragon uncurled from her alcove and shuffled out into the yard, snaking her head around to give Porthos an appraising look. He tried not to shift in discomfort under her piercing yellow gaze.

"Um, hi," he said awkwardly. He knew dragons understood human language, but the resulting silence from her inability to respond in kind only added to the discomfiture.

She continued to regard him with an attention that started making Porthos feel more like a snack than a future rider.

"Porthos was just promoted to dragon rider," Jean said, to Vrita, of course. "Aramis and Grettir think highly of him."

Porthos thought it amusing that Aramis's opinion seemed to carry more weight among the dragons than Captain Treville's did.

"Virta is an experienced dragon," Jean went on, turning to Porthos. "She'll take good care of you."

Porthos winced at the statement; he didn't want to be treated like some bumbling newbie who needed looking after. He was a damn good soldier in his own right, which was how he'd gotten into the Musketeers in the first place. Just because he wasn't as experienced with dragons as the other riders didn't make him a liability.

Vrita suddenly lowered her head and snorted a hot puff of breath straight into Porthos's face, putting an abrupt end to his inner tirade. He wrinkled his nose in response and blinked at her dubiously.

Jean smirked. "I'll let you two get acquainted," he said and strode off.

That left Porthos alone, facing down a dragon who was still looking at him like…well, he wasn't quite sure. Vrita had an open, patient sort of expression.

"Look," he began, "I may not have much experience wit' dragons, but I can handle myself in battle. I've been a musketeer fer over a year, and I was in the infantry before that."

Vrita nodded as though in acknowledgement.

Porthos paused. "I don' want you feeling like you're saddled with a partner that's a burden."

She shook her head seriously.

Porthos frowned, not quite knowing what to say after that.

Vrita cocked her head at him, then snorted in his face again.

He narrowed his eyes. "Not sure how I'm supposed to take that…"

She made a chortling sort of sound and turned sideways, swinging her head toward her back.

"Oh, hang on…" Porthos backed up a step. "It's a little soon for that, don't ya think?"

"Are we in agreement, then?" Jean interrupted, coming back over with a large saddle in his arms.

Vrita let out a small bark in response—though Porthos had no idea what that response was. Jean, however, proceeded to put the saddle on Vrita's back and cinch the straps. The green dragon then turned those expectant eyes back toward Porthos and waited patiently.

"Um…"

"You'll have to fly on her sometime," Jean pointed out.

Right. It wasn't like Porthos hadn't been on the back of a dragon before. Aramis and Grettir had helped him get accustomed to it. Going up on his own, though, just seemed so…he didn't want his nerves today to get the best of him and leave a poor impression.

Vrita continued to just stand there until Porthos finally swallowed his trepidation and strode forward to climb into the saddle. Once there, he paused to mentally go through the checklist for flight. Feet in the stirrups, anchor line secured to his belt, one hand on the pommel.

Jean backed up, and Vrita spread her wings wide, giving them a massive thwack to lift into the air. Porthos clung tightly to the saddle as she rose higher, far above the city, and went soaring out over the countryside. The cold air buffeted his face and his stomach lurched unpleasantly. It wasn't the height unnerving him so much as being on the back of a strange dragon and not knowing whether she would suddenly bank sharply and send him plummeting.

But Vrita did nothing like that. She maintained a level, steady course, and gradually Porthos began to ease up on her back. She made several gliding turns, and after the fifth or sixth one, Porthos started to notice that before each shift, Vrita would lift the shoulder in the direction she was about to take. Catching on, he began to hold tight and lean into the turns, and Vrita began to take them more sharply. The cues were subtle, but soon they were banking left and right through the sky in synchronous understanding.

Porthos shook his head in amazement as they leveled out again. This was probably what Jean had meant when he'd said Vrita would look after him. She knew where his skills were currently at and how to work with them. She wouldn't let him fall. And Porthos could imagine how he would learn from her, how his skills as a dragon rider would improve with her steady guidance.

He leaned forward and patted her neck. "I think we're good."

She chirped in response and turned back toward the city, landing in the yard at the dragon compound.

"How'd it go?" Jean asked, though the glint in his eye suggested he already knew.

Porthos slid out of the saddle and grinned. "I think you're looking at the next pair of Musketeer dragon and rider."

Vrita trilled something, and Porthos decided to take that as agreement.

So did Jean, who was looking pleased. "That's her fitted saddle, already polished and outfitted for your first day on duty. Should you have any questions in the future, don't hesitate to ask."

Porthos nodded in thanks, then looked at the wall between the dragon compound and garrison next door. He glanced at Vrita and raised his eyebrows in question. She rolled her eyes good-naturedly and thrust her nose at her back for him to hop on. It was perhaps a little flamboyant, flying into the garrison yard rather than walking through the adjoining gate, but Porthos was in a pretty exuberant mood at the moment.

A few wing flaps and a hop over the wall, and they touched down in the middle of the yard. Porthos received several grins and congratulatory waves from passing musketeers.

Aramis strode across the yard toward them. "Vrita," he said with a beaming smile. "Excellent choice."

His dragon Grettir came over and exchanged a few chuffs and snorts with Vrita.

"You ever wonder what they say to each other?" Porthos mused.

Aramis grinned. "No doubt discussing how to keep us out of trouble."

Grettir snorted and lightly smacked her wing at Aramis's head, knocking his hat off. He snatched it up before it hit the ground and went dancing away out of reach.

Porthos shook his head and shared a look of amusement with his new dragon. Yeah, partners looked out for each other.