Author's Note: I ment to have this up yesterday, we had some technical difficulties. Thanks to Jessica (Percy) who was my beta. Feedback as usual. Meg
The midday sun was hot and sticky as it beat down on two pairs of sparring teams in the musketeer garrison. On one side stood Siroc and Ramon grins on their faces as they effortless, and equally matched each other. On the other stood d'Artagnan and Jacqueline more ferociously locked and more unequally matched. Duval had ordered an extra practice for them all as he thought they could use the exercise. Steel blades swung in the air and crossed hitting. This was the only sound that could be heard. D'Artagnan ducked Jacqueline's attack her blade inches from his face. Images filled Jacqueline's mind. She saw the terrible battle being played out; she saw her blade making that final blow… Jacqueline shook the images off too late. D'Artagnan had used the opportunity to force her back. She counter attacked forcing him to the ground and he rolled to miss her blade. Images invaded again. His body lying on the ground, his stomach with the fatal wound, blood pouring…Siroc's words echoed again.
"You killed him, Jacqueline." She stopped her blade in midair, and he watched, confused for a second before bringing his blade up to knock hers out of her hand and into his. D'Artagnan looked at her blade, frowning. His eyes locked onto her, his eyebrows raised in concern. Siroc and Ramon were stopped now watching. Their blades crossed in midair, seemingly forgotten.
"You seem a little off today, Jacques." D'Artagnan commented easing the tension that had formed. All four of them knew d'Artagnan had not won a match against 'Jacques' in weeks. Her concentration had been off, unusual for her and suspicious. He frowned at her again, thinking, wondering what was going on. Jacqueline regained her composure and straightened up taking her defeat proudly.
"I owe you dinner. Tonight, after patrol." Her fake voice showing no sign of her disappointment in herself. She turned and walked away leaving d'Artagnan to only stare in growing concern. Siroc and Ramon suddenly realized their blades were locked in midair, and Ramon brought his down and left, knocking Siroc's to the ground and he stooped to pick it up, holding it high in victory.
The tavern was crowed more so than usual. Jacqueline and d'Artagnan sat off in the corner by themselves. Siroc had been too preoccupied with some new invention and Ramon had stayed to help him. D'Artagnan studied Jacqueline. She had been quiet all day, too quiet. Her manner during patrol had been different too. She had been friendly than usual, actually she had been friendlier. D'Artagnan had tried to pry information out of her by telling her he was there for her no matter what, but she had said nothing; not even one of her normal retorts. When they had come across some of the cardinal's men harassing a child, Jacqueline had not rushed in, she had held back and let him led the attack. Her behavior lately, was decidedly strange. Ever since that incident at the palace with the escaped asylum man, and the sword with its supposed mythical powers…his thoughts turned to that almost memory of their shared kiss. A stray thought hit him. What if that was real, what if an entirely different scene had played out, and something bad had happened? Is that why she insisted on taking the sword? Is that why she had stared at it a good half-hour before she mysteriously and reasons unknown threw it in the river? He shook his head as she glanced at him curiously.
"Kind of interesting, a woman buying a man dinner." He wiggled his eyebrows at her, hoping to dispel her curiosity and make her retort like normal. Again, she did not. There was no 'Keep your voice down.' There was no 'Why is that hard to believe?' No banter of any kind. She only flashed him a weak smile and one that faded as soon as she brought her wine cup to her lips. D'Artagnan frowned as he thought. Maybe if he could convince Duval to give them some leave, he could get her to talk and they would work whatever was bothering her out, together. He stood.
"I will give our report to the captain now." Jacqueline nodded automatically, but she was not paying him any attention as he left.
Duval waved his hand dismissing d'Artagnan after hearing his report. He picked up a paper from another report and was studying it when he heard d'Artagnan clear his throat. He looked up, surprised he was still there.
"Something else, private?" D'Artagnan stood up straighter, a sign he was about to ask from something he knew the captain would not be happy to give. "Sir, Jacques needs some leave for a couple days, and I would like to go with him." Duval raised an eyebrow at him and the spoke.
"Why has Laponte not asked this himself?" D'Artagnan visibly gulped. "He is disturbed, loosing concentration when he should not… I believe the incident affected him. He needs to relax and put it behind him." Duval sat back in his chair, hand on his chin, thinking.
"Alright, but there is something that needs investing that you could do for me…" D'Artagnan listened to the details with half an ear, as he thought of arrangements he could make. There was a small-secluded cottage, about an hour's ride from the garrison. It would be perfect, Jacqueline could wear her dresses, and that might help the situation as well. He would talk to Jacqueline first thing in the morning so they could leave before breakfast. No since in trying to explain things to Siroc and Ramon if they did not have to.
