Louis
It would be so easy to spend rest of his life in Milady's eager arms… so wonderful… but he was the King. Obviously he had been seriously ill. And this illness had been caused by poison. This piece of information made him very uncomfortable. The awareness that his wife was alone against assassins threatening the French monarchy was also somewhat disturbing.
Louis trusted Anne's loyalty towards France, even if he was not sure he could still accept her as his wife.
It's my problem. And I will not let strangers solve it. It's unkind to kill a queen, even if her reputation is tarnished. Not only it has taken her so long to give me an heir. Now, it's impossible for her to remain my wife. That's pity I cannot marry Milady. I need a fertile princess!
He insisted on returning to Paris ignoring his lover's pleas. It softened his heart to see her so preoccupied with his safety. She was a good woman, so sweet in her naivety and care. No political thought seemed to ever cross her mind. If only his wife could be so blissfully ignorant...
The travel to Paris in an ordinary carriage in order to remain anonymous was a true torture but he had Milady who did her best to make him feel better. And she had been right that his idea to return to Paris was as thoughtful as careless. He could not deny his presence at the mess in the Cathedral. As if there were not enough chapels in Louvre. No, his wife had to risk her life. This he could understand - the best thing she could offer France was her life. As a widower he would be free to marry another woman of royal blood who would give him children. Unfortunately, just because he was in Paris he had to accompany his foolish Queen. Obviously Treville and Milady tried to persuade him that it may endangered his fragile health.
IT DID.
The ceremony turned into disaster before even it had started. Everything seemed like a blur. There were shots and shouts and chaos and… and he finished as a bundle thrown over the horseback. What a humiliation!
The ride was mad and his body screamed with pain he had never been accustomed with though it had happened to him to be ill or even wounded. His musketeers had not been perfect.
During his undignified travel he was swearing to execute Treville and all his men as all this unthinkable situation was clearly their fault. However he changed his mind when he recognized Rochefort voice. The comte, ex-comte I need to strip him off his nobility, was speaking to HIS wife in the manner with which treating a prostitute was probably unkind. The King had no experience with this issue. He never paid for love.
Louis did not hear Anne's answers, but Rochefort's words were enough to make him sure that comte's former accusations had been completely untrue. So Rochefort was now number one on his long list of people to be killed.
Only then the King realized that he would not probably be able to tell anyone his orders as he was going to die from the hands of the traitor. It astonished him that he did not feel fear only the fury which was burning him with desire to kill his tormentors with own hands. His hands, however, were strongly bound and he slowly began to lose feeling in his fingers.
They stopped. Louis was manhandled on the cold ground. He could feel the smell of mud. Suddenly, he heard Anne's muffled screams. She was probably gagged the same way he was. The piece of cloth had a foul taste and Louis was certain that it had been soaked with a drug. It meant that he was now being treated with a drug! It would explain why he did not feel any strength in him and allowed the captors to toss him like luggage.
A wheel. Definitely Rochefort will die on the wheel. I will show my mercy towards Treville and his men - they lives will be ended with a sword or even by a firing squad… I know… I let Treville's best marksman to shoot them… Wait a moment, Treville's marksman is a musketeer, isn't he? I don't think clearly...
Someone picked him up in an undignified way like an animal corpse and once again he landed on the horse back. It hurt. Every part of his body screamed for a reprieve. He needed a bed, a good portion of wine and Milady's skilled hands. She had pleaded with him so much to reject this plan or simply not to take part in it. She was such a wise and sweet creature!
Suddenly he heard shots.
My courageous soldiers came to rescue me! Finally! If they were musketeers I'd be lenient and only send them to Chatelet! No execution for them today…
Louis landed hard on the ground. There was chaos around him. Shots, screams, the sound of clashing steel. A fight! And he was defenceless, untangled in some robes or blankets, bound and gagged beneath the hooves of panicking horses.
If I die here they'll be executed!
The King felt hands on him. They seemed much more gentle than those of his captors. And smaller… Suddenly, the cloth was taken his head, the gag expertly removed. He was watching his saviour, trying to comprehend what had really happened, as it was a woman kneeling beside him. An armed woman. A woman he knew well as she was his wife's confident. Louis knew he should remember her name but he did not.
"Take me to Paris!", he ordered.
The redhead nodded but her eyes were searching wildly someone on the battlefield around them even when she helped the King to sit up. He closed eyes as nausea hit him hard.
"My wife…?", he mumbled as he had the impression that the woman was talking with someone about Anne. He forced himself to open his eyes. A musketeer was saying something and Louis could not have been sure why it suddenly became clear to him that Rochefort managed to escape with Anne!
He'll have her again. He'll touch my wife with his dirty fingers! He'll be defiling her and she belongs to me!
"Rochefort cannot have her again!", he cried angrily and started to cough. Louis did not really knew the decision the woman and the musketeer had arrived at, but he realized that only when the soldier helped him to stand. The King could barely catch his balance.
"Your Majesty, we need to ride!", the musketeer's voice was full of respect. The King allowed the man to lead to him to one of the horses.
"I'll ride alone", Louis decided though he doubted it was the best idea.
"It's a wise decision, as the horses are tired and we need them to get to Paris", the musketeer replied with a small bow. He looked terrible.
I hope not all blood on his uniform is his… otherwise I'm going to lose my saviour before I get to Paris.
"Give me a pistol", the King ordered, well aware that if the musketeer lost consciousness it would be too tiresome for him to dismount only for taking his weapon.
The soldier obviously obeyed. Louis was watching him for a moment. He looked familiar. Was it Treville's second in charge?
"Where are your men?", the monarch asked.
"We should meet them on the road, we have set off earlier."
I hope we meet them before you die…
Louis was terrified by his saviour's pallor. It did not bode well.
Maybe I should ask him about his wounds. No, I assume he knows what he's doing. I've chosen the best to my regiment so he's fully capable to get me to Paris.
God, please give this man strength to last long enough to get me to safety.
The ride in the darkness was monotonous and the King was struggling not to fall asleep.
"Can we stop somewhere to rest?", he asked furious that his voice sounded like a whine.
"It's not advised, Sire. We have no knowledge about our enemy so it is a great risk."
"Musketeer, I don't like to have to hide and flee in my own country. It's disgusting. I'm tired and because I may get killed I cannot demand a hot meal and a warm bed. It's ridiculous!"
The soldier did not answer. Louis wanted to say more but suddenly he realised he was simply too tired to continue his speech.
I just need to wake up from this nightmare which started with Richelieu's death…
A thud awoke the King from his thoughts and he froze as he saw that the soldier had fallen from the horse. Before Louis could even think he leapt towards him.
"Musketeer!", he growled and slapped the man.
Why I'm on my knees in the mud? I shall continue to Paris. How am I going to mount?!
"Musketeer!", Louis repeated angrily. He hoped he did not sound like a frightened child but he felt as one.
The wounded soldier slowly opened his eyes.
"Forgive me, Sire… not to escort you further… follow the road, you're going to reach the city…take my weapon...", each word seemed to cost a lot of strength.
"And you?! Shall I leave you here to your death?!"
"I've sworn to protect you with my life… Sire", the man's words were coming slower and quieter.
"No! You have to go with me! Your duty to me has not been completed yet. I order you to mount your horse and ride with me!", the King was not sure what was more disturbing - to leave this man to die or to travel alone.
The musketeer tried to sit, Louis wanted to stabilize him but he was not able to hold up the weight of the wounded and they ended once again in mud.
"Go!", the soldier whispered, his eyes were losing their focus and light.
"What's your name?", Louis asked. He had to do something.
"Athos… don't waste your time, Sire…", the musketeer was pleading now.
And the King desperately did not want to leave him, to be left by him.
"I… I…"
I order you to fight, I order you to obey my commands, I order you to live…
No, he's dying and there's nothing I can do.
Louis gently touched the musketeers' cheek.
"You fought well, Athos, rest in peace."
The King felt tears in his eyes when he left his dying saviour behind.
A/N
Legate_of_Apples thank you for betaing!
Let me know, what you think, please!