Many thanks to Joelle-sama for the idea to write a flashback (:
Chapter 2 - Flashback
Six years ago...
"You have to let me, Monsieur, please," pleaded the girl. She had been in his office for over an hour now, having come into his manor like a thief in the night, unannounced and undeterred. She was on the verge of tears and nothing made Treville more uncomfortable that a woman crying. She was also mad. Mad with grief, with loneliness, with anger. He feared for her safety from her own self but he also cursed his luck and his fate that had brought her here to him, making her his responsibility.
"It is absolutely out of the question! How can you possibly become a soldier?!" he lashed at her, pointing his finger up and down her figure. Then, more quietly, "You can disguise yourself like a boy, as you have so expertly done so already, but you can never become a soldier."
"But that is not…" she began, but he cut her off.
He stood up and circled his desk to stand facing her.
"Listen, Mademoiselle. I am not unsympathetic to your tragic story. I am also not an ungrateful man, especially given the information you had brought me. It is evident that it would be a mistake to send you back to your parents –"
"Uncle," she corrected him.
He cursed under his breath with annoyance, then he carefully and patiently enunciated, "I will not send you back to your uncle. But since you are here, you have made yourself my responsibility and…"
"So then make me a musketeer! Let me find Francois' assassins," she pursued.
Good gracious, this girl was as headstrong as a mule! She was impossible! He looked up, as if in prayer.
He proceeded, completely ignoring her pleas, "Since you came to me and have consequently made yourself my responsibility, especially given the information you know, I have no choice but to keep you with me…"
Renee breathed a sigh of relief. A flicker of hope lit up in her eyes. He was going to offer her a position! He was going to agree! Yippee!
"…as my wife," he finished.
She plopped down on the chair in utter defeat. Her silence made him uneasy, but he persevered, nonetheless.
"I am not a cruel man, Mademoiselle d'Herblay, rather, a practical one. You needn't worry. This would be a chaste marriage, the purpose of which is to ensure your safety until we resolved this affair. I have no 'marital' expectations whatsoever and you may choose to live in my estate in the country, or in a convent if it pleases you."
At this time, the Captain returned and took his seat back behind his desk. Renee kept her head down, staring at her fingers on her lap. She had escaped that very same fate only to come back running into it. How ironic! How unjust… Was that all there was for her?
"I could never marry anyone else," she murmured to herself.
Whether he really did not hear her or simply chose to ignore her, Treville continued:
"But my preference would be for you to remain here in Paris and become acquainted with the court. I think you might be able to garner a great deal of information that may lead you to the assassin you seek and lead me to the roots of this dangerous plot. We could… work together."
In his time as Captain of the Musketeers, Jean-Armand de Treville had encountered multitudes of people from all walks of life. Men and women. Nobility, farmers, soldiers, royalty. His position as head of the personal guard of His Majesty required him to cultivate a certain intuition. An ability to be able to quickly make a judgment or a decision about someone. He needed to know who to trust and why. One small misstep, one misjudgement or one miscalculation about someone's true character or intentions could be fatal.
The moment this young woman walked into his office that evening, something stirred in his heart. A feeling, a hunch. One he recognized from a few years ago when he had chosen a stout young man from among the artillery squad to become a musketeer for him. Yet another time before, when a young noble man presented himself to him to become a musketeer, forsaking his title and fortune. Porthos and Athos.
And now? He had that same feeling and it troubled him. But he could never take the risk of enrolling her. Whether it was for her, or for him, or for the regiment's honor. He had to come up with another creative way to integrate her somehow. He would make her his wife and a spy at the court. Yes, Jean-Armand de Treville was a practical man.
She looked up at him in surprise. They would work together? Where did this complicity come from all of a sudden? But this was no time to ponder. Renee knew this meant something: she had gotten through to him, somehow. She intended to exploit that, but she needed to be smart about it.
"If by enrolling me in your regiment you fear the shame and dishonor that would come to you and the King's Musketeers, then I have to warn that your newly proposed scheme of having me in court would prove to be more detrimental."
Treville was taken aback. Just a second ago, he had congratulated himself on his flawless plan and now this little pest was disqualifying it.
"How so?" he shot at her. Yet despite himself, he was curious to hear what she had to say.
"As you were so close to telling me when I first came in, I'm an unrefined and ill-mannered girl. To shape me into one of your courtesans would require more work and effort on your part than it would to simply make me a musketeer. Should I commit the tiniest of follies, your movements would become scrutinized, everyone will be talking about you constantly and you risk soiling your reputation for the smallest transgressions. And I can assure you, I am someone who commits many transgressions. Your meetings with your peers would revolve around the comportment of your wife, or whether you have decided to take up a mistress. I know of you, Monsieur de Treville. I know that you seclude yourself from many events at court, specifically for these reasons. But once you have a wife and at court no less, you will be required to attend every ball, every soiree, every tea party, every hunting party and every other boring social event you could possibly think of.
"Eventually, you will go mad. You will have no choice but to exile me to a convent, in which case, we would not be any closer to finding out anything about the plot than when we had first started. The other option, would be to beat me senseless into conforming to these confining rules. At that point, your reputation will suffer greatly. You will be known as the man who batters his young wife and your sovereign will begin to question your lack of self-control. People will regard you with horror and no one will want to spill any secrets to you at that point. Once again, we would be back where we started."
Renee paused, a triumphant look beginning to overtake her features as she observed the Captain's face: his mouth was agape and he was stupefied. She had him. Now she can deliver the final blow.
"However," she went on, "if you were to enlist me in your regiment, it is only I who will bear this burden. If my disguise were to be revealed by whatever reason, you can simply pretend that you had no idea and I will receive the deadly punishment for it. Yours and the Musketeer's reputation would recover, no doubt. You can say I'm a sorceress who bewitched you, if you will.
"Furthermore, I am an excellent rider, Monsieur. I am a good shot with the musket and I can handle a sword. Whatever I lack in skill, I will work hard to improve and you wouldn't have to do much about it. I will follow your orders with the utmost dedication, as long as you don't ask me to compromise my mission nor my values. I know it's dangerous but whichever way, there is nothing but death that awaits me. Give me a chance."
She won him over. Not by charm, not by some emotional manipulation. But by a strategic and well-placed argument. She had made him her adversary without him knowing it and she vanquished him just as quickly. For a moment, he felt pity for the assassin she was hunting: that man, whoever he was, had no chance and his fate was sealed the moment Renee became Aramis.
Treville looked straight into those blue eyes that sparkled with such determination. What a headstrong and naïve girl! But she was also noble, honorable, courageous and intelligent. No matter what he said or what he decided, the truth stared him right in the face: she was already a musketeer.
