This is my idea of a a Savoy fic. This happens before Athos and Porthos are part of the regiment and will mainly (at first) be from the points of view of Aramis and Tréville. I intend it to also explore how the Inseparables became. D'Artagnan is likely to figure only briefly at the end.
This fic (I hope) will explore the physical and psychological effects of it. I'm not qualified in these areas and it is just my own interpretation. Please be aware that this could cause triggers so please be careful.
I have no idea how long this will be and I will try to update regularly but I do have other fics that need my attention and my writing has hit a bit of a block recently.
This song was my inspiration for this fic.
The Sound of Silence – Simon and Garfunkel
Hello darkness, my old friend
I've come to talk with you again
Because a vision softly creeping
Left its seeds while I was sleeping
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence
In restless dreams I walked alone
Narrow streets of cobblestone
'Neath the halo of a street lamp
I turned my collar to the cold and damp
When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light
That split the night
And touched the sound of silence
And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand people, maybe more
People talking without speaking
People hearing without listening
People writing songs that voices never share
No one dared
Disturb the sound of silence
"Fools" said I, "You do not know
Silence like a cancer grows
Hear my words that I might teach you
Take my arms that I might reach you"
But my words like silent raindrops fell
And echoed in the wells of silence
And the people bowed and prayed
To the neon god they made
And the sign flashed out its warning
In the words that it was forming
And the sign said, "The words of the prophets
Are written on the subway walls
And tenement halls"
And whispered in the sounds of silence
Usual disclaimers that I do not own the characters etc.
I hope you enjoy it. This first chapter is relatively short but many of will know the chapters tend to grow as I get carried away!
Chapter 1 – The Training Exercise
The day dawned a typical April day. Not warm but not cold as such, with a hint of moisture in the air. A brisk wind blew through the garrison as the Musketeers prepared for their training exercise at the border with Savoy. It would take a week of travelling to reach the site and many of the young and new Musketeers were excited for the journey ahead, as they chattered in groups. Even some of the more senior musketeers were happy to getting a change of scenery.
'Finally, out of the garrison for a while,' Marsac sighed as he grinned towards his best friend, Aramis as they both saddled their horses.
'With a load of new recruits who will be tough enough to manage and I swear it's going to snow,' Aramis retorted with a smirk.
'Snow?' Marsac looked unconvinced as he looked up to the, mainly blue, sky.
'I'm telling you it is going to snow,' Aramis replied with a knowing smile.
'Then I bow to your infinite wisdom,' Marsac physically bowed to make his point as Aramis laughed at his friend's antics.
'Seriously, can you two act like the senior musketeers you are, instead of acting like boys?' Jardin scolded them as he passed. The man was going grey and would soon be near retirement.
'What's wrong with him?' Marsac whispered to Aramis.
'What isn't?' Aramis grinned back as Jardin started shouting orders at anybody who crossed his path.
'Are you ready?' a voice behind them made Marsac startle but Aramis seem unaffected by Captain Tréville's sudden appearance.
'Of course,' Aramis answered as he finished tacking his horse and started loading his saddle bags onto his horse, Dusk. Dusk was as black as it was possible to be and she was the most loyal mare he had ever ridden. While she could be wild at times, she was also caring when it came to her rider. She would also stop to eat at any chance she got, so Aramis had learned to give orchards a wide berth, as apples were her favourite.
Captain Tréville had always had a soft spot for Aramis, the once gangly teenager who happened to be the best marksman he had seen for a long time. There was something else about the young man that made Tréville choose him from the army ranks in the first place, but he could never quite name it. Aramis was fiercely loyal to his friends and the regiment but his wandering eyes, hands, and other body parts were often a liability. Having said that, Aramis seemed to be able to extract information from people with ease. Marsac was a good swordsman and a fair marksman but Tréville had never really liked the man, if truth be told.
Tréville's unease at this outing was growing and a part of him wished to keep Aramis behind at the garrison. Cardinal Richelieu was behind this, he was sure, but the King had given his orders so Tréville had followed them, like the dutiful soldier he was. Still it irked him that there was something he wasn't being told and he felt his soldiers may be the ones in danger.
Soon the Musketeers departed for their chosen camp leaving a worried Tréville behind.
Aramis was glad to be away from the garrison. While he liked training and teaching he found the garrison to be restrictive. He enjoyed life and craved excitement, especially danger and women. He was handsome and he knew it. This meant endless jealous remarks from Marsac who was never as lucky as Aramis with the female sex. Aramis was used to women fawning over him but Marsac barely got a look in, especially with Aramis around.
'Training out in the open,' Aramis sighed. 'So much better than staying locked up in the garrison. We've had no mission for three weeks.'
'Tréville's been giving them to other musketeers since you got in trouble sleeping with that farmer's wife,' Marsac replied bitterly. He and Aramis had been kept at the garrison as punishment for Aramis causing discord when delivering a missive to an earl. The farmer had complained to the earl that his wife had been tricked by Aramis into lying together. Aramis had not known the woman was married but Trévile had to step in to stop the matter going to the King. Tréville had made it clear he expected better from his Musketeers and had punished both of them as they had been travelling together, hence they had spent their time locked up in the garrison.
'I love nature, the birds singing and the rush of the wind,' Aramis declared dreamily.
'Yeah, until you get bored,' Marsac snorted making Aramis wince.
A couple of the new recruits were riding behind them and Aramis heard them laugh at Marsac's remark. Aramis turned Dusk sharply to face them and brining them all to a halt.
'Benneteau and Laurent, correct?' Aramis asked, his face stern. The young men nodded with fear in their eyes. 'Do you think it is acceptable to laugh at a senior musketeer's expense?' Marsac was struggling not to laugh at Aramis' antics.
'I...but..' Benneteau stuttered.
'We didn't mean no harm sir,' Laurent answered quietly.
Both young men looked down at their hands wringing the reins of their horses. Aramis couldn't hold it in any longer and burst out laughing, followed by Marsac.
The young men smiled weakly before Aramis spoke.
'I'm only toying with you,' he laughed. 'It's what I do when I get bored,' he winked at them. The recruits then laughed heartily with Aramis and soon they kicked their horses into a canter to catch up with the rest of the group, who seemed to have made fair bit of headway.
As the day after the group of musketeers had headed towards Savoy dawned, Captain Tréville awoke with a start. His breathing was fast and uneven and his stomach wanted to spill its contents, even though it was empty after he last ate the night before. The bad feeling he had about the mission was now smothering him.
He swung his legs out of bed quicker than he intended and stood far too quickly, having to catch the headboard to balance himself. Something was definitely wrong.
He washed and dressed but took his time to keep his balance and work out what he could ask the King. He couldn't very well say he just 'had a bad feeling'. Cardinal Richelieu would sneer and Louis would laugh, but Tréville was sure there was something they weren't telling him.
He skipped breakfast knowing that his stomach was queasy and set off for the palace with a couple of musketeers as escorts. Once he arrived he was lead through the palace and told to wait. He knew he could be waiting a while as Louis was never one to rise early.
He found a chair and sat down, waiting for his moment to be called. He heard footsteps and glanced in the direction of the noise and was disgruntled to see Richelieu.
'Waiting to see our King?' Richelieu sneered.
'It would appear so,' Tréville retorted.
'He is not in a good mood this morning. I hope you haven't come to upset him,' Richelieu added in a sneering tone before departing. Tréville hadn't missed the thinly veiled suggestion that Richelieu had already seen the King this morning.
With his own thoughts about Richelieu swirling in his head he hadn't heard another set of footsteps approach.
'Captain,' the musical sound of the Queen's voice moved him out of his stupor.
'Your Majesty,' he stood quickly and bowed to her.
'What brings you here this morning?' she asked. Normally, she would surrounded by her ladies but, for now, she seemed alone.
'I need to speak to the King, regarding my forces heading for the border with Savoy,' he answered honestly. Unlike many, he always had time for the Queen and would not lie to her. The sudden stiffening of her posture made him wary once more. She knew something, probably something she wasn't supposed to know.
'Well, I wish you luck. You know how the King can be,' she replied stiffly and moved to walk away. Tréville was about to ask her what she knew when a gaggle of her ladies finally appeared. Some looking a bit put out that the Queen had left them. With a swish of her skirts, she was gone.
In the end, Louis had refused to see Tréville and the Captain of the Musketeers had to return to the garrison with a large headache and a wilful stomach. He had managed to find some food in the palace kitchens, where he was always welcome, but his stomach was still wanting to rebel.
Louis, it seemed, had taken ill and was refusing visitors, including Richelieu, the latter making Tréville chuckle slightly.
The third morning after the departure of his musketeers was the day he made his decision. He had woken with an overwhelming sense of dread which greatly distracted him that morning. He had picked at his food and nearly ended up injured during a spar with Mathieu. He sat down at the table closest to the balcony and his office above and drank some water.
'What's matter with you?' Serge's voice came from the direction of the mess hall. Serge was the long-time cook at the garrison and a former soldier himself. Courtesy wasn't his strongest point.
'Just an overwhelming sense of dread about the exercise I sent my men on,' Tréville answered more honestly than he meant to.
'Then why the bloody hell have you not gone after them,' Serge sounded annoyed, which was rare for the man.
'The King ordered it,' Tréville replied doing his best not to show he thought Serge was right.
'The King don't care about those men but you do,' Serge said truthfully before shuffling back to the mess hall.
Then and there, Tréville made his decision and set about finding the two men he would take with him. Thankfully, he found Cornet and Mathieu quickly and told them to pack for Savoy. He told them they were going to go and check on the training to keep the men on their toes.
Within two hours they were ready and set off for the Savoy border. Tréville hoped he was overreacting but he had brought his list of the men anyway.
It took a week to reach their destination in the forest next to the Savoy border. They set up camp ready for the training the next day with Aramis and Marsac sharing a tent.
'How do you think they're going to hold up?' Aramis asked as they ate their stew and bread.
'No idea,' Marsac replied. 'It's a first for a lot of them so they'll probably be shattered tomorrow evening,' he finished with a grin.
'It will definitely be quiet if we train them properly,' Aramis smirked as he remembered his first training session. They had gone north of Paris and Aramis had been as eager as the rest to show his worth. The first day truly shattered him and he had awoken the next day past noon, which had made everyone laugh and he had to endure taunts of 'Sleeping Beauty' for the rest of the trip. Still, it had been fun and he had learned a lot about tactics in a large group as well as showing off his skill as a marksman.
The chatter increased that night as a cold wind blew through the forest. Clouds had started to gather overhead and it had become unnaturally cold.
'Told you, snow,' Aramis said as the first few snowflakes started to fall.
'It shouldn't be bloody snowing!' Marsac replied grumpily.
'Well, you can always tell it to stop,' Aramis grinned back as Marsac turned away disgruntled.
Hot food was eaten and some wine and ale drunk as the men prepared for bed and their training the next day. Much of it was to be survival training and also how to act when attacking within a large group. Aramis would be mostly supervising hunting and stealth, while Marsac had been left with identifying berries and fungi which could be poisonous and those which were safe to eat. Marsac wasn't particularly happy about his assignment, if the truth were told. He even went as far to complain to Aramis that Jardin was doing just to anger him. Jardin and Marsac had never seen eye to eye.
The men started to turn in for the night, bidding 'goodnight' and 'see you in the morning' reverberating around the camp. Aramis felt a shiver go down his spine and he was sure it wasn't because of the cold. He analysed the trees close to him but could see nothing out of place, so he made his way over to Dusk who was trying to sneak some apples from one of the sacks on one of the carts. She had been hobbled like the other horses but she had too much determination to let such a thing bother her.
'You never stop do you,' he said as she gently bumped him with her nose. 'Sleep.'
He turned back after walking a few steps to see that she had managed to get into the sack and was now scoffing the apples meant for the men. He knew he should stop her but he didn't have the heart. Again, he felt the shiver and scanned the area but the darkness had crept up on them and he could barely see. He approached his tent and removed his sword, dagger and pistols before removing his jacket and placing them in the tent before standing stock still. Birds flew in all directions, chirping and squawking alike and then...silence.
A/N: I've tried to flesh out Marsac a bit more as a good soldier here. I honestly think he was but could never get over what he saw. Please let me know what you think. Thanks. :)