This story was originally inspired by the Agents' of Hydra, Agents' of S.H.I.E.L.D. arc but I got severe writer's block and life got in the way. So even though it's not what I originally envisioned I decided to post it anyway rather than just delete. I will try to post as often as I can but I make no promises. Anyhoo, hopefully you'll all enjoy.
By the way, all the chapters will be named after and include lyrics to songs that are fanvids of our beloved show or songs I think would make great vids. First up is Hold Back the River, which is rather fitting when you hear and see the whole thing on YouTube. Feel free to give your own suggestions.
Tried to keep you close to me
But life got in between
Tried to square not being there
But it's there that I should've been
Once upon a different life
We rode our bikes into the sky
But now we're caught against the tide
Those distant days all flashing by
Hold Back the River - James Bay
The sun rose clear and bright over the farm. D'Artagnan paused briefly to take in the view.
"Magnificent isn't it?" He smiled at Alexandre D'Artagnan's words. It was an adept description and yet D'Artagnan didn't quite feel the wonder the sight inspired. He went through his chores as he always did, adequately but dispassionately. It didn't go unnoticed.
"I know you aren't interested in a future in farming." Alexandre cut him off before he could argue.
"Don't deny it. Anyone can see your heart's not in it. It's alright. But don't feel like you need to stay and help me."
"But I like helping you." He didn't have his father's joy in farming but D'Artagnan had always loved the time spent with the older man.
"I like you helping too. But I don't want you to feel like you're trapped here. I can get Espoir and your uncle to help. You should have a future you want."
"I don't know what I want." He didn't dislike his life. D'Artagnan would even say he was content in a way. But he felt – not lost – but aimless. His life, pleasant as it was, was missing something more, something better. But D'Artagnan hadn't a clue what.
"You used to want to be a knight when you were younger," Alexandre recalled fondly. "You'd get a stick and parry it around like a sword. You weren't bad at it either. Won every duel you had."
"Most of my duelling partners were ducks and geese and hedges and sheep."
"And Shep," Alexandre inserted, reminding him of the old sheepdog. "He gave you a few good challenges."
"He kept wanting me to throw the stick."
"Yeah but he gave you a reason to make sure he didn't get a hold of that stick."
They both laughed at the memories. "Well if any knights come looking for duels or help in righting wrongs against France, I'll take it as having your permission."
D'Artagnan didn't know it then but he was well practiced in righting wrongs in France and soon he would be needed to right the worst wrong of all.
The tiny hallway was dark and cramped. The darkness and the crampedness exaggerated by the large man now standing in it, trying unsuccessfully not to knock anything down.
"Porthos, is that you?"
"Yeah, it's me."
Marie-Cessette appeared beaming at the sight of her son. She waved him in, insisting as she always did, he sit and eat. Porthos took up most of the tiny kitchen – always had, but there was always a comfort in being there. Marie-Cessette was not only an excellent cook, she doted on her son without smothering him.
He gave a brief update on his life between mouthfuls of an excellent roast. "Not much. Flea and me are taking a break at the moment, mutually, still friends- "
"What was the fight about this time?" Marie-Cessette was no fool.
"I might have a new job."
"What kind of job?"
"Still waiting for the full details."
"Is it legal?"
"It's not illegal."
Marie-Cessette sighed. "And why didn't Flea like it?"
"It means a different lifestyle. A different life."
"Flea doesn't want different?" She always knew how to read him.
"Flea loves the court." It was one of the few things they'd constantly disagree on. Flea thrived in the court. It was home for her, now and forever. Porthos didn't hate it but he'd never stopped wanting out from the first day he understood there was another world to go out into. "Charon wasn't happy either."
His mother hmphed softly. Porthos knew she didn't approve of the friendship.
"Charon's been there my whole life, Maman. And he's always had my back when I'm in trouble."
"But not necessarily getting you out of it. I like him, I do. But he's usually the one getting you into worse trouble."
"It's both of us." Charon had been his friend since he could remember. Porthos had to defend him, even if some of what Marie-Cessette said was a little closer to the truth than Porthos liked. Charon hadn't been there when Porthos had met his father. Porthos hadn't trusted the way he would react. He hated when it happened, but every so often, the thought crossed his mind that Charon was not the best friend Porthos would ever have. But if Charon wasn't then who was?
She gave him a look. "I know that." Anything else she might have said was lost in a coughing fit. Porthos' discomfort immediately transformed into concern. He quickly filled a glass and grabbed the prescription bottle from the press. It was nearly empty.
"What did the doctor say? Did she give you more pills?"
She smiled sadly. "There may not be much more she or the pills can do."
You mean there may not be more we can afford to do. Porthos hated it. The doctors and the tests and the medicine all cost money. Money they didn't have. Porthos supplemented where he could. He never let on though. Even if he was twice her size, Marie-Cessette Du Vallon would tan his hide if she thought he was stealing, especially on her behalf. She'd encouraged Porthos to achieve his potential his entire life, his no-good father and poverty be damned. This was a chance for a better life for him, for them. But it would take time. Time Marie-Cessette didn't necessarily have. Porthos didn't care what it took, he'd get her that time.
"I can't believe it! Only you would think to work on your birthday!"
Athos smiled but didn't look up. "The business doesn't just grind to a halt because I got a year older."
"Well, the business mightn't. It also won't collapse, if you take a few hours off and celebrate your birthday with your favourite brother."
"You're my only brother."
"Which makes me your favourite, if only by default."
"The same argument could be used to make you my least favourite one."
Thomas made a face. The effect ruined as he broke into a laugh. "Tell you what? I'll duel you."
Athos put down his pen, leaning back in his chair. His lips quirked in amusement as the younger d'Athos carefully pulled the prized rapiers from their display case.
"Aren't you afraid I'll grind to a halt."
"That'll just help me win."
"Never going to happen," Athos stated as he stood, elegantly pulling the blade free. Thomas grinned at him. For a moment Athos stared. He could have sworn in Thomas' place another stood. Longer hair, brown eyes instead of green but a similar spark. Thomas lunged, and the flash was gone.
They parried and lunged back and forth. The younger, while not unskilled, lacked the natural talent of the older and victory fell easily to the latter.
Thomas groaned. "I will beat you one day. But you can make it up to me."
"Shouldn't that be the other way around?"
"Nope. Now come on, you're going to enjoy your birthday even if I have to make you."
Athos raised an eyebrow but allowed Thomas to pull him away from the study. While Thomas' ideas of 'fun' usually differed greatly to his, Athos wanted to spend time with his younger brother. It seemed like they never had enough time together.
Thomas' idea of making him enjoy his birthday wasn't as bad as Athos had feared. He'd arranged a clay pigeon shoot. But it was Thomas' enthusiasm that gave Athos the most enjoyment.
"Damnit!" Thomas sighed at the missed shot as the target flew wild. "No one could have made that shot!" Athos bit back the correction just in time. Thomas was right. It was at best an improbable shot to make. Athos didn't know anyone capable of making one at those distances. So why did he think he did.
It had started happening more and more. A thought, a feeling. Athos would have called it a sixth sense or psychic sign if he believed in those kinds of ridiculous notions. It would just be for a moment when something seemed wrong, missing, different. A smoke he could not grasp. And he did not know where these doubts had come from.
The moment had ruined all enjoyment of the shooting for him, but Athos hid it not wanting Thomas to be disappointed. The younger brother was oblivious to the other's worried reflections and continued on cheerfully.
When it got too dark to continue, Athos gladly followed Thomas back to the house. All he wanted was a drink (or three) while he thought.
"SURPRISE!" Athos stepped back, his hand automatically going to his waist and swiping at air.
"Happy Birthday Olivier." Anne looked radiant as always as she came up to him. A teasing smirk formed on her lips. "Try not to look so petrified in front of our company." He raised a wry eyebrow. The sight of so many people in their home made him uncomfortable but it did not terrify him.
"I would have preferred we celebrate in private, just the two of us."
"I believe we did that this morning." Her smiled turned to one of promise. "There is still time later. When our guests are in less of a state to notice our absence." Her fingers trailed against his shirt as she moved to talk to another guest.
Athos grabbed a drink as he surveyed the crowd. Most of the guests were neighbours, family friends or business associates. For the most part, people he liked to an extent. It was only having to interact with them all at the same time for several hours that was wearying. Thomas and Anne were the social butterflies, the ones who enjoyed the crowds and the spotlight. They were born for it.
Athos finished his drink and helped himself to another one. At least nobody had decided to shoot any melons.
"Captain." Treville halted at the polite address. Few still referred to him by his former title, especially in the vast gardens of this estate. His irritation was tempered as Anne approached him.
"I heard you were thinking of retiring."
Diplomacy and honeyed words were never something Treville had been good at. He'd never had any desire to. He was a soldier through and through. There were times he bit back words. Once it had been a necessity to avoid an escalation. And then the necessity increased until it become too frequent. Treville had spent far too much of his life minding his tongue. He didn't now. He wanted the truth known. "Others are thinking it."
Gentle sympathy shone in her eyes. "Then I hope those others can be persuaded to think differently. Whatever the outcome I hope you will still visit as a friend."
"I will always be your friend." If Treville did nothing else with his life, he would keep that promise.
"Treville!" It did not escape his attention that the familiarity in Anne's expression disappeared, if not the warmth, at the new arrival. Treville's eyes narrowed at the blond man, his dislike hardening his features. There was no point in hiding it. Rochefort knew his feelings and didn't care.
The younger man eyed him with indifferent disdain. "I'm surprised to see you here. I would have thought you'd be busy planning, well, whatever you deem a plan."
"I'm not retired yet."
"I'm sure no one will notice if you start early." Treville felt his fingers tighten. No one would notice because they wouldn't notice a difference. Because he wasn't worth noticing. The insult infuriated him.
Anne gracefully interceded between the two. "Whether he's retired or not, it shouldn't come as a surprise for Captain Treville to be here. He is a friend."
"Surely the former captain has other friends too. We shouldn't monopolise his time." The faux sincerity covering the open mocking just increased his ire. It was only his decades of soldier's discipline that kept him from ramming his fist into the blond's jaw.
"He is giving me away." He wasn't sure who was more shocked by Anne's statement, him or Rochefort. Rochefort had been rendered as speechless as he had.
"Who else would? You can hardly do it. Treville is the only family I still have here."
"I can think of no greater honour." He'd said it to stop Rochefort from finding a way to prevent it. But the relief and gratitude on Anne's face was a far greater reward than Rochefort's barely restrained irritation.
"Well, that's settled." Rochefort spoke through gritted teeth. "You must have other matters to attend to as well. We won't take up your time." To anyone else it would have been dismissal. Anne wore her mask too well sometimes. She may have felt dismissed, then again, she had duties of her own that she was no doubt due to.
"What are you playing at Treville?" Rochefort snarled as soon as they were alone.
"I don't play games, unlike some. I may no longer be in your service, Sir. But I will always serve Anne." He turned on his heel. The exchange was in danger of turning into one of open contempt and insults. Treville had no regrets. He had loathed the years where he had been forced to serve the man. If it had not been for his oaths, he would have resigned his post long before retirement.
Treville had willingly sacrificed any thoughts of a family for a career as a soldier. It had been a decision he had made with no regrets. But the regiment he had been rewarded was lost before it even began. His brothers-in-arms were dead or displaced. The family and children he swore to protect, had been taken by an enemy he could not fight. Anne and France were all that he had left, and he would not fail them.
Rochefort glowered at Treville's retreating back. The man should be grateful to serve Rochefort as he had. His career could have been as easily destroyed as his life. Instead Rochefort had shown mercy and allowed the washed-up soldier to keep some of his former dignity.
He had planned to kill him but having him work for him (and the man's resentment because of it) had been a more just punishment. Besides without his trained pets, Treville by himself was not a threat and he was loyal to the memory of the Bourbon legacy. Which meant he was loyal to Rochefort.
Hs mood intensified with the sight at his door. "Captain Treville didn't seem happy when he left." The words were drawled. Combined with the man's slouched posture and the hat that hung low over his eyes, the newcomer appeared to be almost asleep. But the alert tone and the way he instantly moved to attention betrayed the illusion.
"Former Captain Treville can't handle that he's no longer relevant or necessary."
"So, you really are firing him? Pity, he's one of the few men you have who actually possesses a full working brain."
Rochefort glared at the man who lacked any self-preservation as he shrugged. "I don't pay you for your opinions on the Red Guards."
"Doesn't make them any less useless."
How he wanted to kill this man. But as with Treville it wasn't that simple. Besides Rochefort knew living was far more excruciating than death. The dead did not know pain and the man now known as the Cardinal deserved a very special kind of torture.
He picked a folder off his desk and handed it to the man. "This is your new assignment." The Cardinal glanced over it quickly, for once silent. With a nod he was gone.
Rochefort watched him go. He would know agony by the end.
The faintest shift in the air alerted him to his newest visitor. "I did not send for you."
"You do not send for me at all. I decide when we talk."
"I'm busy."
"I don't care." He met Rochefort's dark look with one of his own. "I am not the King of France and I am not the Spanish. You will not renege on our arrangement."
'How dare he!' Rochefort buried his fury. He needed to be patient. He was so close this time. "You will get what you were promised."
"I had better. Or you will get what you were promised." He was gone as seamlessly as he arrived. Rochefort's ire simmered but didn't quite cool. The Inseparables and the meddlesome Madame Bonacieux had no reason to interfere this time. They had what they most wanted. And after all the musketeers and their Inseparables didn't even exist.
Lonely water, lonely water
Won't you let us wander?
Let us hold each other?
Lonely water, lonely water
Won't you let us wander?
Let us hold each other?
Hold back the river, let me look in your eyes
Hold back the river
So I can stop for a minute and be by your side
Hold back the river, hold back
Anyone familiar with my stories knows I often ask questions and love hearing other opinions from fans so I'll be posting questions at the end of every chapter. Feel free to give your opinion in your reviews (as always please be respectful of other views, I will delete any reviews I think are abusive to other commenters.)
Now for the question...
What is the best season?
Two is my favourite and three is... mixed but I think one is the best overall. It introduced us to this world, built some of the overall themes and plots and developed the characters greatly over the first ten episodes into the heroes we loved. It was probably the most consistent in terms of quality overall and had some great stand alone stories and guest stars so I'm giving it the title.
As always please let me know what you think.