A/N: Thank you pallysAramisRios for reviewing the last episode! And a shoutout to 29Pieces for beta reading.
Chapter 1
"Look at this," Louis cooed to the infant in his arms as he angled the baby toward Dragor. "This is a dragon. One day you will be big enough to ride him." Louis grinned that wide-splitting, toothy grin of his as he continued to present a dragon to his son, who was far too young to know anything about the large creature looming over him.
Dragor, however, despite his formidable size and bearing, was remarkably gentle as he brought his nose close enough for the baby to touch if he so desired, and his old eyes were kind. Louis's eyes were filled with delight.
Anne watched them, standing slightly apart and feeling like an outside observer to this precious moment. She didn't think it was intentional; after all, she had been included on this outing. But the King had barely had a word for her since they left the palace for the dragon compound. More than that, Louis had been…distant with her lately, and she didn't understand why. Especially since she knew he was so happy to have a son. Anne had given him that, at long last. She thought it would have brought them closer together, but it only seemed to be driving them apart.
Anne brought her arms up to subtly hug herself. She yearned for someone to talk to as a friend. Constance wasn't even at the compound this morning. Anne understood, of course; they both had more duties now. But she was ever so lonely.
"Yes," Louis continued babbling to the baby. "One day you will grow up big and strong and be a dragon rider like your father." He flashed a grin at their attendants, who of course smiled and nodded in affirmation.
Anne wrung her hands in her skirts, suddenly worried Louis might want to take their child flying before he was old enough to sit a saddle.
Fortunately, before the King could get such an idea in his head, Treville appeared striding toward them.
"Your Majesty," he greeted. "It is almost time for the Council meeting to go over the latest reports from the front."
Louis made a long-suffering sigh. "If I must."
He handed the baby to his governess, and their group began to head back to the palace. Louis and Treville walked in the lead, already discussing matters that would be brought up at the Council meeting. That was another sore subject between the King and Queen, Anne felt: the war with Spain. She had tried to offer her own counsel, but the King's advisors had dismissed her, claiming she must devote all her attention to motherhood now. Anne knew what they really meant—she was Spanish and they did not trust her, though she had reiterated many times that she had spent more time in France than Spain and her heart was here. It had done little good, and Louis had not supported her, making a weak excuse that she was a woman and her delicate faculties weren't meant for such discussions. It infuriated her. Anne hated feeling useless. She was not just a mother, she was a Queen, and had been for years before the Dauphin had been born.
But no one saw her that way anymore, it seemed.
They arrived at the palace and went their separate ways, the men to the Council and the women to the Queen's apartments. Anne immediately dismissed her ladies-in-waiting, and her son's governess. Even worse than feeling lonely was feeling alone while surrounded by people.
So Anne took her baby into her private chamber and sat on the floor with him, basking in his gurgling laugh and flailing limbs. He was beautiful and perfect, her only light in these dark days.
.o.0.o.
Athos sat at his desk in his office with Constance, the two of them going over the duty roster. He wanted to increase the training sessions now that four full-fledged musketeers were around to put the new recruits through their paces. Porthos would handle the hand-to-hand fighting, and while Aramis had been out of the game for two years, he was still the best marksman to teach these cadets a thing or two.
"Will you or d'Artagnan be taking over their sword fighting training?" Constance asked.
"I'm sure you and d'Artagnan can handle that," he replied. He caught her look of surprise and smiled. "You are no slouch yourself," Athos pointed out.
Constance's lips twitched at the compliment. "Still, d'Artagnan will get them to a much higher level than I ever could."
"Which they will reach all the more quickly because of your instruction," Athos said, discontent to let Constance think her contributions to the garrison were not of equal value to theirs. Indeed, she had been an invaluable asset while they were away, and even still now that they were back.
Urgent shouting from outside interrupted their focus.
"Madame d'Artagnan!"
Constance exchanged a look with Athos and they both quickly stood and strode out onto the balcony. One of the cadets was running toward the stairs.
"Madame d'Artagnan! I mean, Captain," he fumbled to correct when he saw Athos. "Come quick! There's a riot happening out in the street!"
Now that they were outside, Athos could hear the faint din of a commotion coming from over the garrison walls.
He turned and leaned over the railing to look out at the yard. "Porthos!" he shouted, waving to get his attention. Aramis and d'Artagnan were nearby and jogged over as well. Athos hastened down the steps and drew his sword, signaling to the others they should do the same. The cadet hurried ahead toward the gate and pointed down the street at the source of the disturbance.
"Stay here," Athos ordered the boy and stormed down the road, his three friends right behind him.
There was a large group of people crowding the street and pressing in toward something in the center. It wasn't until they drew closer that Athos recognized the butcher who provided the meat orders for the dragon compound. He was seated on his wagon and trying to kick people away as they clambered around the sides.
Athos pulled his pistol and fired straight up into the air. The thunderous report startled the enraged mob, stalling their assault.
"That's enough!" he bellowed.
Porthos, Aramis, and d'Artagnan spread out around him, swords raised in warning. Several people backed away at the show of force, but many more stood their ground.
"What is the meaning of this?" Aramis demanded.
"This man refuses to sell his meat!" one citizen declared loudly.
"It's already been sold," the butcher rejoined.
"To the King to feed his dragons," the first man said scornfully. "And now there are four more in the city!" He whirled toward the musketeers. "It takes several pounds almost daily to keep them fed. Do you have any idea how many people that would feed?"
"The dragons are a crucial part of the city's security," Athos replied.
"They are a gluttonous excess!" someone else spat. "That food should go to the people!"
"Those beasts get prime cuts while my family is living off scraps!" another shouted. He surged forward, and Porthos shoved him back.
D'Artagnan reached the butcher's mule and grabbed the reins, urging the animal forward while Aramis and Porthos held the people at bay. A raucous chorus of overlapping shouts and barbs rose up, but the people weren't armed, and the musketeers' weapons kept them back as the butcher drove his wagon the rest of the way to the garrison. A line of cadets met them, all with swords drawn but looking nervous. Still, it was enough of a last show of force to prevent the people from rushing them.
"Close the gate!" Athos ordered as they filed inside after the wagon.
The cadets rushed to shut the gate, blocking out the enraged citizens.
Constance hurried over to Jaquob sitting on the wagon. "Are you all right?"
He nodded shakily and looked at the musketeers. "Thank you."
"I suggest you leave by the back gate," Athos said, coming over to take possession of the delivery the man had gone through so much trouble to bring them. But as he flipped back the tarp covering, he frowned at the few slabs of meat in the cart.
"Did those people manage to steal some?" Porthos asked, also taking a look at the shipment.
Jaquob shifted in obvious discomfort. "No, I'm afraid that's all I have."
Athos shared a dismayed look with the others; this was far less than what they'd ordered for the six dragons in residence between the garrison and the royal compound.
"How is this all you have?" Constance asked him. "You've been supplying us for years."
"Yeah, well, the sheep herder who does the actual supplying is running short. He doesn't have enough to fulfill all his open orders, let alone feed his own family and keep his stock going."
"Why?" Aramis asked.
"He's been suffering a string of poaching on his lands," Jaquob explained. "People are…" He cocked his head toward the gate and the crowd that had been gathered on the other side of it. "Hungry."
"Does the King know?" Athos asked.
"I don't know," he replied. "I think Pichard reported it to the governor. I'm sorry, but I've done the best I can."
Athos nodded in resigned acceptance. "I understand."
Constance waved over a couple of the cadets and instructed them to unload the meat. They knew where to put it.
"We can send the dragons out in shifts to hunt on their own," she suggested. "It would be enough of a supplement for the time being."
Athos nodded. That was their best option, though likely the dragons would have to travel a good distance to avoid crossing game paths with the very people they were competing with for food.
"We can also look into these poaching incidents," he told Jaquob.
The butcher inclined his head gratefully. "If we're to keep the dragons' supply going, I think that would be a good idea."
Athos turned to Aramis and d'Artagnan. "Why don't you two head out there and take a look around. And, Porthos, maybe make sure Jaquob gets home alright."
As for himself, he would make a little trip to the refugee camp to make some inquiries of his own.
The four musketeers saddled their dragons and then took to the skies in different directions. Savron flew over the city toward the refugee encampment and landed on its outskirts. Given the hostility over the Musketeer dragons' return to Paris, Athos told Savron it'd probably be better if he kept an aerial watch until Athos signaled for him to come back and pick him up. Savron obliged with a flap of his wings to retake flight.
Athos made his way through the camp. Though he'd been there a couple of times already, he still earned several tense and guarded looks. These people still didn't trust anyone in uniform, not that the City Guard had given them reason to. At least he was able to pass through unmolested to Ninon's tent. He found her sitting on a small stool outside with a ring of young girls at her feet. She had an open book in her lap, facing outward, and was tracing her finger along a line of text that the children read aloud. When one of the girls stumbled over a word, Ninon paused to pronounce it for her, waiting until the girl had repeated it back a few times correctly before moving on.
Athos hung back, hoping to catch Ninon's attention without having to interrupt. It was another minute or two, but she finally looked up and spotted him watching.
She closed the book and smiled at her students. "That's enough for today. You all did wonderful."
She then stood as the children dispersed and made her way over to Athos.
"Back to your old pursuits, I see," he remarked.
"These young girls have no prospects," Ninon replied stiffly. "Their only hope for a future lies in an education."
"I was not condemning it," Athos said calmly.
Ninon lifted her chin. "As I recall, you were not all that supportive of it when I was conducting lessons in my home."
"That was different."
"How?"
Athos shook his head. "I didn't come here to debate women's education."
"Why did you come here?"
He sighed. "To ask if you knew about anyone in the camp poaching off nearby grazing lands."
Ninon visibly bristled. "I do not. And why do you assume it was one of us when there is a whole city full of disgruntled people?"
"I haven't assumed anything and we're looking into all possibilities. I merely thought checking with you first could save us some time and effort."
Ninon eyed him for a moment. "My apologies," she finally said. "I am used to our group being blamed for everything."
"Given the state of stretched resources, it would be understandable if some here would turn to poaching," he said carefully.
"When the other choice is to starve, yes," she agreed. "Would the King punish such people for that?" she challenged.
"That is the law," Athos replied.
"The law sets up the disadvantaged and then punishes them for it."
He didn't want to argue with her; it wouldn't change the circumstances.
"If you hear anything, you'll let me know?" he asked.
Ninon gazed back at him coolly, not committing to an answer either way.
Athos canted his head at her in farewell and then turned to leave. He supposed he shouldn't have expected unquestioning cooperation. Ninon's political views and his were somewhat polar. He just hoped she wouldn't actively harbor any criminals.
Athos left the camp and walked out into the open field to wait for Savron. It also wasn't that Athos thought Ninon was wrong about people being forced to choose between starvation and breaking the law, it was just that he still had a duty to uphold, no matter what. They didn't live in an ideal world, far from it with the war going on. As he'd learned captaining on the front—hard decisions had to be made.
And they always had consequences, no matter the intentions.