Well, Guest, seeing as I was writing the fight scene, what else could I listen to? Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the Black Pearl of course, the track where Will Turner met and fought with Jack Sparrow-oh, right, Captain Jack Sparrow!
Glad you are enjoying the story. Here is another chapter for you. Yes, Aramis is my favorite too. But to be honest, I also really like Athos. I think Matthew Macfadyen did a great job capturing that character's persona!
I am trying to figure out what exactly to do with Constance. It would be easier to portray her as the movie did. Yet I am trying to decide if I should throw in a few parts from the book. Can't make up my mind. Leaning closer though towards the movie.
As for Aramis and Felice getting together? Well…? I can't say at this time. She's quite young-I know, in those days it wasn't so odd for young girls to marry older men-, and is having trust issues with the musketeers. They are swordsmen, and the first true swordsmen she ran into coming to Paris were her tormentors. So, she's still feeling out Athos, Porthos, and Aramis. Obviously though, Aramis is the easiest to warm up to. But his dashing looks are not enough to instantly make her trust him.
As for the rest of you, what do you think of my story? Honest reviews are appreciated, though please be respectful even if you don't like it.
One reason I haven't been able to finish my Cinderella crossover is because it's still in the midst of the battle scene, and right now it's hard to get my mind zoned back into evil Gaston/Luke Evans. But don't worry. I really want to finish the story, it's not forgotten!
Actor Paul Blackthorne (Captain Quentin Lance from CW's Arrow) is the man I visualize as Captain de Treville! Though picturing him in this time period as a French swordsman is hard to picture instead of him in slacks and a leather jacket or his police uniform! So, onto the story!
Athos kept wringing out his pained shoulder as the procession followed him to the headquarters of the king's musketeers. "Are you alright, Sir?" Felice asked.
"Just divine, small thanks to a certain young vagabond." Athos answered her gruffly, eyeing D'Artagnan.
"You mean, you were in earnest about being injured?" D'Artagnan's jaw dropped. "That wasn't just drunken ramblings?" Athos pursed his lips. "But, you seemed alright back at Cooper's Yard."
"I'd had the good sense to acquire a remedy for relieving pain before dueling with you." Athos stated. "And then the d- Cardinal's men had to stick their noses in it. Afraid I jarred it again from butting a few heads."
"You best have the physician tend you when we return." Aramis reminded him.
"Do I have much choice?" Athos arched his bushy eyebrows.
"No." Porthos grinned. "Ahh. Here we are." D'Artagnan stared up in awe at the post of the musketeers. The white stone building with fillings of rust splattered across the bricks stood tall, like a faithful sentry who seen many wars but had come out of them stronger.
"So, this is it?" D'Artagnan murmured.
"Aye. Well, let's go in." Porthos said jovially as if he were expecting a medal, marching into the building.
"Charles, are you not going to enter?" Felice shook his arm.
"We are about to meet one of the king of France's most faithful and powerful men!" D'Artagnan breathed. "This is my dream, Felice! About to become reality. I can hardly believe it!" He held his chest in revelry.
"Well, let's get you inside before you faint." Aramis gripped his arm, his hurt arm.
"Oui. Take it easy, will you?" D'Artagnan hissed.
"Athos!" Captain de Treville called across the lobby as they walked inside. "Porthos tells me you re-injured yourself. I command you to see the physicians immediately!"
"Aye, sir." Athos bowed then went into a long hall 'til he disappeared.
"Porthos, Aramis." The captain spoke grimly. "I have received reports of you three stirring up a scurry in Cooper's Yard, with the Cardinal's soldiers again no less."
"Aye, sir, but that is only partly true." Aramis said.
"Oh?" The captain cocked his head curiously. "Do tell."
As Aramis and Porthos explained the fight, D'Artagnan and Felice observed the man they'd heard so much about since they were old enough to memorize bedtime stories. They marveled at him, this legend of theirs, standing before them in the flesh. He was very tall, slightly taller even than Porthos and Athos! He was lean but solid, with square, strong shoulders. His dark eyes stood out under his equally dark brows and the dark goatee at his chin. He was very handsome for a middle-aged man. His dark eyes held wisdom and four lifetimes of combat history that little children would hear of for years to come.
"So," Captain de Treville turned his stern eyes on D'Artagnan, "it was you who incited the riot in Saint Jermaine."
"I wouldn't exactly call it a riot." D'Artagnan said innocently.
"No?"
"No, sir. More like a friendly rivalry. Well, at least that is the way it originally began, sir."
"More like a harsh lesson in good manners." Porthos interjected.
"I believe he was talking to me."
Captain de Treville had to rub his face to hide his chuckle. The young Gascon was bred on spunk and flame, no arguing that. Clearing his throat to commence with his investigation, he turned to Felice. "Mademoiselle, just how do you fit into this picture?" He asked curiously.
"Under duress, Sir." Felice said dryly. "The two-legged, quick-tongued spitfire standing in front of you is my brother. I came here to Paris with him, he to join your musketeers, I to make a living working as a baker's apprentice. Thanks to a...a most unpleasant run-in with Count Rochefort," She cringed, "we were detained, and more or less thrown into a battle with the soldiers." She fiddled nervously with the necklace she'd worn from home, clenching and unclenching her fists.
"What is your name, lass?"
"Felice, sir."
"This should prove interesting." Captain de Treville sat down in his desk chair. "D'Artagnan, pull up a chair for your sister!" D'Artagnan blushed but before he could even spin on his heel, Aramis had already shoved a chair in their direction. Felice barely nodded to him and sat down, wincing as she did. "Well, Monsieur Rascal, do explain yourself." Captain de Treville leaned forward with his hands on his desk, "I am all ears."
And so, D'Artagnan poured out his entire tale, with Felice's input, plus Porthos and Aramis embellishing it from their points of view, to which D'Artagnan and Felice corrected them on several turns. By the time that D'Artagnan had reached the details about learning Rochefort's true identity, Athos had returned and joined them, holding a new flask of whiskey which his other brothers in arms had gifted him with for all the trouble he'd been put through today.
"What do you recommend we do with the daring imp?" Porthos asked their leader.
"Sign him up! Obviously." One of his fellow musketeers blurted out.
"That is an inadequate question, Porthos." Captain de Treville gave him a dubious look. "What else can we do with him? My dear D'Artagnan, after hearing your extravagant testimony, and your courageous albeit reckless actions from more than two witnesses, I am afraid you leave me no choice." D'Artagnan held his head up straight and prepared himself for the disappointment he was sure would come. "I am going to recommend you to the Royal Academy, lad!" The captain announced.
"Really, sir?" D'Artagnan's eyes lit up.
"Charles, it's your dream come true!" Felice smiled brightly, the first real smile any of them had seen on her today.
"I know!" D'Artagnan breathed giddily, shaking with joy. "Oh, Merci, Monsieur! Merci!"
"Now, you shall stay with my three Inseparables until I have your own apartment settled for you. I want that you should get to know each other...seeing that you have already met." Captain de Treville told D'Artagnan. "However, as we have no lodgings set to accommodate ladies, I am afraid your sister shall have to find shelter elsewhere."
"Begging your pardon, Captain," D'Artagnan interjected, "but we have no family in Paris, no one who was to expect us, save you yourself, Sir, when I was to present you my letter. Given the circumstances, I cannot in good conscience, send my sister to stay overnight alone in a strange boarding house, without me by her side. Especially given the fact that that horrid Rochefort is on most hostile terms with us. No, my good captain. We shall not be separated, not after what happened."
"That is understandable, young D'Artagnan. My apologies, but she cannot stay here."
"I'll find something," Felice sighed. What am I supposed to do now?
"Captain? Why shan't the young lady remain with her brother?" Aramis spoke up.
"My good Aramis! Do you imply that both the Gascon children stay with you three mutton heads?" Treville sputtered in disbelief.
"I do." Aramis nodded. Felice clutched the desk in front of her. She stared at the three musketeers, wide-eyed.
They cannot be serious! Felice thought. I cannot be hearing this!
"Ah ha. Now you have done it, my charitable dolt of a friend." Porthos teased the priest. "You have frightened her! She is purely petrified at your outrageous suggestion."
"Aramis, this is indeed irregular." Treville remarked.
"The boy is right. Count Rochefort has already attacked these young people just today," Aramis explained. "Who knows if he were to track them down were they to go to a hotel? I think it best for all concerned if both D'Artagnan and young Felice house with my companions and myself. They will be completely safe."
Treville was not amused by this. And he too had seen the shocked look on Felice's face. "Are you three not already crammed together?" He asked.
"Comfortably so." Porthos quipped.
"You know, perhaps I would be better off on my own." Felice spoke up. "It would be better than being dragged into a deadly duel at every turn." She narrowed her eyes at D'Artagnan, crossing her arms.
"Oui! I'm not the one who insulted Buttercup." He said defensively.
"And I'm not the one who said he'd kill a man for not abiding by your wishes. And a gigantic brute at that!"
"You have no consideration for Buttercup's honor." D'Artagnan said gruffly.
"I do too! You just have to challenge everyone who says no to you!"
"You know very well-" D'Artagnan started retorting and Felice only threw them back at him. Several musketeers nearby peeked into Captain de Treville's office to see the spat. They snickered and whispered to each other.
Captain de Treville glanced incredulously at Athos, Porthos, and Aramis as if to say, "How the heck did you come across these two tadpoles"?
"You became distracted by a pretty face, and left me to fend for myself!" Felice snapped at D'Artagnan.
"It would've been rude to just walk away." D'Artagnan said defensively.
"You could've at least-"
"Why are we arguing-"
"You just-"
"I fought off those guards while they just stood there moping-"
"Do you know what almost happened-"
"Shall I intervene?" Aramis offered, amused.
"A man of God, it would be the wise thing to do." Porthos said sarcastically. "Nah. Let them have it out, and be done with it." He shook his head, clearly enjoying the show.
"Save us the bother." Athos agreed flatly. "Perhaps they will slit each other's throats and we'll be rid of them."
Captain de Treville had had enough. While he was clearly entertained by the humorous immaturity of his new guests, he did have other priorities to be completed before the day was out, and the Gascon delinquents were holding up progress. "Shut it, the both of you!" He barked, rising to his fully imposing height. That shut them up! "That's better. Now, if you two would like to claw each other's eyes out, I'll be more than happy to let you out in the training yard, and then maybe we can get something accomplished today. On the other hand, if you can find some shred of sanity to stand up and carry a civil conversation like adults instead of howling felines, perhaps we can come to an agreement. How about it?"
D'Artagnan and Felice both stared at the floor, their faces red with embarrassment. Every pair of eyes or lack thereof was on them now. "Because if you do not straighten up here and now, I will personally knock your two hard heads together!" The captain continued.
"No, Sir. My apologies, sir." Felice mumbled.
"That won't be necessary, Monsieur." D'Artagnan sighed. "I apologize for behaving so unbecomingly."
"Begging your pardon, sir, but it has been a very stressful day," Felice said quietly, "And, I suppose I let it get the better of me."
"Yeah, me too." D'Artagnan nodded.
"Good." Captain de Treville approved and sat back down in his chair. "Do you have any money?" D'Artagnan reached into his cloak and revealed their small purse. "So it seems almost inevitable."
"Well, good sir, you and your spirited sister are welcome to stay in our humble home." Porthos told them.
"Porthos!" Athos protested.
"You forgot Buttercup." D'Artagnan said.
"Athos, Aramis, Porthos? Are you willing to take responsibility for the Gascon younglings?" Porthos and Aramis glanced at Athos for confirmation. He shifted grimly, wishing he was anywhere else but here, anywhere to help him just shake off this crazy day!
"We shall make due." Athos said. Not that he wanted two energetic scamps about, and headstrong ones to boot! But he couldn't argue with his friends' logic. And besides, if he said no, they would've bantered about it until he had a splitting headache, courtesy of Aramis bringing up the 'Christian thing to do' bit.
"D'Artagnan, it is up to you." Treville sighed. "Does this arrangement agree with you?" D'Artagnan glanced to his sister questioningly. She bit her lip.
We don't have much choice, and I should not sleep at all tonight if I sleep somewhere without Charles! She thought.
"Yes, Sir. We humbly accept the offer. It shall do nicely." D'Artagnan said, squeezing Felice's hand. She didn't look so sure.
"Then it's settled." Captain de Treville approved. "Try to keep them in line, Athos?"
"For the time being." Athos groaned.
"He's everything I imagined all these years," D'Artagnan went on and on about meeting Captain de Treville, and being commended by him. He still couldn't get over it.
"Upon my word, lad, you are worse than dear Porthos when he has a new lady to woo, or some lavish garment to buy!" Aramis exclaimed.
"Come, Aramis. I don't talk your sensitive ears off." Porthos uttered defensively.
"Porthos can do that any time." D'Artagnan said cockily. "But it isn't every day that one meets their lifelong hero that they've only ever heard about or read about!"
"Quite true." Porthos agreed. "Eh, lass. Cat got your tongue? You've hardly spoken three words since we departed from headquarters."
"I was only...taking in the sights." Felice answered briskly. It was partly true. She was observing the streets they passed, and the people residing there. Just where was this place that the heroes called home? Not close to a brothel, she hoped! If it was, Rochefort was bound to be there! Felice was so worked up and terrified at the thought of him catching them unawares that she didn't let logic bypass her wild imaginations. The musketeers were respectable men, bound in duty to the king himself! They had more substance than she was allowing herself to dare believe.
"Ahh. Yes. Marvelous city, is it not?" Porthos beamed. He cheekily waved to some women on an upper balcony who were batting their eyes at him and blowing him kisses. "Like I said, marvelous city!"
"Here we are." Athos announced when they came to a sizable house in the lesser fancy part of town. It looked large compared to the D'Artagnans' little cottage in Gascony.
"Looks big enough. I'd say we're in luck, don't you, girl?" D'Artagnan gushed to Buttercup who whinnied.
"That...goes in there." Aramis motioned to Buttercup then tilted his head toward an adjoining stable.
"Buttercup is a she, not a that." Felice scolded him. "Please mind your words! She's sensitive." She protectively ran her hand through Buttercup's mane. Aramis puffed. What was it with these Gascons and their horses?
"I humbly apologize, my lady." Aramis gave a mock bow to Buttercup, then he walked into the house.
"Come on," D'Artagnan groaned, slowly leading Buttercup into the stable where three other steeds were residing. The horses snorted and wickered in greeting. "There now, this isn't so bad, eh?" D'Artagnan smiled, patting his horse as he placed her in a stall.
"Do you think she'll be alright, staying in a strange new place?" Felice suggested, stroking the mare's neck. "Perhaps one of us should stay with her tonight."
"I think she'll be fine." D'Artagnan responded confidently, grabbing the horse's head. "But if you get lonely, just holler and we'll be right here, girl. We'll keep you company if you need it." Felice handed Buttercup an apple and leaned her cheek against the steed's own rough one. Buttercup was warm, and gentle, and...she felt like a part of home. "Look here, Buttercup! Fresh hay, and clean water. It's as if they were already expecting you!"
"And you have some new friends to make!" Felice added. Buttercup nuzzled Felice's chin with her nose, sensing her melancholy. Felice hugged her large head and kissed her.
"Well, I think that about does it. You should be content in here, girl. We'll see you later." D'Artagnan promised. Felice sighed reluctantly.
"I'll come back tonight." She whispered then slowly followed her brother back outside as he hurried to the door of the musketeers' home.
"Well, shall we?"
"Charles?! I'm not staying under the same roof with a load of men!" Felice argued anxiously, beginning to tremble again. Her legs felt like lead."Not after..."
"I'll be with you." D'Artagnan said calmly. "And they're not the Cardinal's guard, remember? They're musketeers, heroes. They came to our aid, did they not? They won't hurt you."
"Alright, Charles. If you're there, then I should be safe."
Ha, ha, ha! Poor Athos! His quiet, brooding life is about to be turned upside down!