Title: Au revoir, mes amis
Author: Hannurdock
Fandom: Musketeers.Takes place between The Three Musketeers and Twenty Years After. D'Artagnan is saying goodbye to his friends as they seperate to live their individual lives once Richalieu has been defeated.
Rating: PG
****
The three Musketeers became four.
D'Artagnan, the youthful gascon had joined the trio to become a valuable member of the team. He led the four of them with a fearless mind and a loving heart, keeping Athos most treasured in his friendships. In fact, it seemed Athos was closest to d'Artagnan as they did everything together.
Athos was a tall man, in the prime of life who enjoyed the elegance of life. He was a soldier, yet a noble. A curious contradiction for a Musketeer. However, he had the passion of a lover when it came to protecting his friends. Of all the Musketeers, Athos was most fearful of losing his friends to death. He only prayed he would be the first to die, than have to endure a loss which would tear his heart. He was extremely graceful of movement, and his hands were like the hands of a pianist, very delicate. Yet he could wield a rapier as powerfully as any Musketeer, and his skill was unmatched.
Porthos, the gentle giant had a simple mind and a loving heart. His ambitions were as childlike as his personality. He aspired to be a Baron, and own his own lands. He was a muscular man, quite heavy for a man of his times and had a smallish mouth which seemed a little out of place as everything else was as large as this man's reputation. He was admired for his size and size of character throughout the Musketeers. He took life as a game, never seriously for fear his head would shed its hair early on account of worry.
Aramis was a sly younger man, with a receding hairline which Porthos put down to stress. He wasn't open with his friends most of the time, and furthermore he did not wish to be a Musketeer. He had joined the army when his father had retired, wishing only to do what pleased his father. When his father died of cancer years later, Aramis began to resent his decision to join the Musketeers. However, he could not ask for better companion's than Athos and Porthos who had always been near to his side, always ready to laugh and fight and gamble. He harboured a secret desire to become a priest, although he never spoke of this to his friends. He distrusted d'Artagnan, fueled by the jealousy of the father / son relationship between Athos and d'Artagnan. To him, d'Artagnan was an outsider, and would never be part of their little unit. To make matters worse, d'Artagnan had received a promotion to Lieutenant, further straining the delicate relationship between them. Envy was turning to hatred as the two silently glared at each other and silently dreamed of each other's demise. Athos was the man who stood between them, shielding them with a sense of honour and comaradery.
However, with Richelieu defeated and ageing, and Milady de Winter executed, the ememies that had forged the Musketeers close bonds was severely weakened. Aramas, sensing impending disaster between himself and d'Artagnan bade farewell to his friends and journeyed North to join a convent as a priest. He intended to work his way to the top of his profession, having a natural enthusiasm for anything spiritual and good.
D'Artagnan felt himself the blame for Aramis' departure, and when Athos announced he intended to journey from Paris to a quieter village and settle into a country noble's lifestyle, d'Artagnan felt depression knawing at his soul. He loved this man, Athos had done nothing but inspire the gallant gascon from the first moment they had met.
On the day of Athos' departure, d'Artagnan looked as miserable as a person can be. He idly fiddled with the leather belt on his coat and shuffled unhappily from one foot to another. "Where will you be going, dear Athos?"
Athos smiled sadly "Blaisos, I think. I have a small estate in that area, shrouded into privacy by ageing fruit trees. I should like it there, very peaceful and quiet".
"Bah! You'll be restless within a week" D'Artagnan countered instinctively. "You'll be brawling at the local inn just to do something. Why don't you stay here?".
"I have so little time left to discover what life really means. I want to explore the natural beauty of this world. I want to travel, perhaps journey into Spain". Athos appeared wistful, turning away from his friend in a state of high emotion. D'Artagnan felt ashamed. Athos was entitled to do as he wished. It was his life after all.
"I could always come with you ...." D'Artagnan said softly, sitting beside his friend.
Athos detected the hurt and pain in d'Artagnan's voice. "You would be restless within ten minutes, let alone a year" Athos chuckled. "Let me settle into a new lifestyle, and then come and visit me".
D'Artagnan felt wounded by Athos choice of words. He turned away, feeling like the abandoned orphan. Since his parents had died, Athos had always been the man he could rely on and trust.
Athos, noting the young man's hurt, put a tender arm around d'Artagnan's shoulder. "It was bound to come to pass, all of this. We are all discovering there is more to our life than standing behind a sword facing enemies for the good of a King who shows us each and every day the Monarchy is nothing but a farce".
"Egad!" D'Artagnan swore, pushing himself away from Athos' embrace and looking at the elder Musketeer with fire in his eyes. "We made an oath to defend our King and country, Athos. For better or worse!".
Athos looked away and sighed deeply. "Forgive me my friend. Those bitter words should not have been uttered. I was wrong".
"Let us not leave on such a sour note" D'Artagnan said after a moment. "I feel abandoned by your departure. However, who am I that I should ask you to remain? I am, after all a poor gascon with nothing to offer the Great Athos, and ...".
Athos held up his elegant hand for silence. "Please, d'Artagnan. No sarcasm. Friends we are, and friends we shall always be. I would never abandon a friendship as good as ours. That would be foolish and unfair".
D'Artagnan sighed, sensing the time for departure growing nearer. He stood and looked away from Athos, despair knawing at his heart. He was ashamed at such feeling, however Athos had been almost a father to him. It was never easy saying goodbye to someone who meant that much to you. "Au revoir, mon ami".
Athos rose and turned d'Artagnan to face him. He embraced the younger man gently. "Goodbye my most dearest friend. I shall see you again, I promise".
Athos reluctantly let go of his friend, picked up his hat and sword and exited the room leaving the gascon alone.
D'Artagnan sighed. "Zounds, will the torment of losing friends never end?".
Just then, Porthos barrelled through the door laughing. He slapped d'Artagnan on the back "How about we go have a drink, d'Artagnan?"
D'Artagnan smiled at Porthos, the only one who remained from four close friends. "Yes, Porthos. Let's go now".
Athos watched Porthos and d'Artagnan leave with a slight smile before riding off into the sunset vowing he would see d'Artagnan again as soon as he could.
Destiny of course had other ideas. It would be a full twenty years before his eyes met those of his closest friend again.
THE END.