Disclaimer: I own nothing of BBC or the Musketeers, I just play with them!

A/N: Hi all! My apologies for the wait, RL drained inspiration for a while and then I was ill. So I'm trying to get back into things now, hopefully this chapter will help. I will try not to have the wait be so long from now on!

The King was restless and could barely eat after learning of his Champion's ill health and the reason behind it. It was unfathomable to him, completely outrageous that the situation had been allowed to continue until D'Artagnan was incapacitated but in a way, he could understand how notice slipped through the cracks. Athos, Aramis and Porthos were highly respected and D'Artagnan had struck him as a man wanting badly to prove himself worthy of being a Musketeer. The lad had nearly wept when Louis had officially made him a Musketeer after all. But for those closest to him to contribute to his ill health... what could've possibly led to this? What excuse could the Inseparables possibly give?

The young king slept fitfully that night, rose early in a bad mood and then spent a good hour pacing and almost ranting to his Queen about the situation. His anger was such that he was sorely tempted to forego his promise to Treville and shame the trio in front of the entire Court but he didn't want to deal with the Cardinal's well-placed barbs and humiliating his old fox on top of it. But that didn't mean that he would spare the Inseparables in private.

The hours seemed to crawl as he awaited the four. Finally, they were brought into the royal chambers. Treville looked stoic but his eyes betrayed his inner turmoil; he looked like he hadn't sleep well either.

The Inseparables stood at attention and although they had good poker faces, their body language betrayed their nervousness. Even Athos looked uncomfortable, though his usual cold mask was still there. Louis decided to let them stew for a moment while he got an update on D'Artagnan. He didn't even look at the trio as he beckoned Treville forward. "What news, my old fox? How fares my Champion?"

"Recovering, sire but it will be a very slow process, I think. He was moved but flustered upon learning of your interest in this affair." Louis felt his lips twitch at the thought of D'Artagnan's embarrassment. His Champion still wore his heart on his sleeve, it was one of his most endearing qualities. "Understandable. Our D'Artagnan is very modest and pure of heart, 'tis one of the reasons he is worthy of his rank... unlike some that I will not name. And the arrangements I asked you about?"

Treville smiled. "He protested but was honored yet again." Louis smiled this time, unable to help himself. "Good. Please let him know that my love and I have a surprise for him as well. I truly think it is one he will enjoy and don't worry, my fox, this time I didn't go overboard. Anne agreed with me, right, my dear?"

"Indeed, my love." Anne said with a soft smile. Treville looked relieved and nodded.

"Now," Louis turned to face the Inseparables, his tone going from jovial to stern. "On to more unpleasant business... Pray tell me, my Inseparables... why should I not strip all three of you of your ranks and exile you from Paris forever, branded traitors and left for the carrion?"

All three men barely flinched and paled. "Yes, traitors. For you have abused not only a fellow Musketeer but my Champion. A boy who looked up to you and has remained ever loyal... and you thanked him by abusing his trust and treating him only slightly better than a servant. And all because he was so eager to please that you took full advantage. Sending him to take care of your messes, fetch and carry all manner of things for you, depriving him of sleep and food on the excuse of training and missions. D'Artagnan is not an automaton yet you have treated him like one for months until he was on the brink of collapse! When would it have stopped? Or would it have?"

Aramis suddenly remembered D'Artagnan partially complaining, "This whole... D'Artagnan, the apprentice Musketeer thing... how long does it last?" He'd laughed and said, "Well, as long as it's fun!" His conscience zinged him and he winced. D'Artagnan must've thought they'd enjoyed the past months and done it deliberately. And when had it gone from being for fun to being a routine?

"You have something to say, Aramis?" The medic cursed at forgetting where he was and decided to confess. "Your Majesty... we've been trying to figure out why D'Artagnan hadn't spoken up before and I've just remembered something... he actually did, partially."

"What? When?" Porthos yelped.

"Silence! Continue, Aramis." The monarch's face looked like a thundercloud. Aramis swallowed hard and said, "I can't remember when except that it was at least a few months after he'd become a ranked Musketeer. The two of us were talking one evening while tending our weapons while the others had gone for food and he asked me when we would stop treating him as an 'apprentice Musketeer'." A blush colored his cheeks as shame filled his heart. "I-I laughed and said... 'as long as it's fun'. To my knowledge, it never came up again and somewhere along the line, it went from fun to routine."

"And when he asked you this, how did he sound? Or do you recall that at all?" Louis asked sarcastically. Aramis thought for a moment. "He sounded... exasperated. Tired. Resigned." Tears pricked at the Spaniard's eyes. "The conversation died after that."

"Fool." The Queen hissed under her breath. "How many times did he truly complain about what you were doing and you brushed him off under the excuse of a joke?"

Porthos stiffened as a fragment of conversation came to him. 'Last time, mind the uniform!' D'Artagnan had been mid-duel with him and Athos and he'd been trying to remain clean for once. 'It doesn't look right on you. Too shiny, too new, looks like your ma dressed you!' Porthos had said. They had disarmed him quickly and dragged him through the dust deliberately. Now that he thought about it, D'Artagnan didn't have many clothes at all and he did try to keep them in good form, especially his uniform and pauldron.

"Often." Athos said reluctantly. "But then he stopped, so we assumed that he'd grown a thicker skin."

"No! He'd assumed that you wouldn't stop, so why bother speaking up?!" Anne cried. "And because he was the youngest, his opinion didn't matter, as you so proved!" Then she glared at them, saying, "And I don't doubt that he didn't complain to Treville because Treville would've confronted you... and you would've complained to D'Artagnan and things would've been worse. So the poor boy kept quiet, to the point of the collapse because ultimately, he feared your reactions!"

Treville 'hmphed'. "Indeed, Majesty. If anything, he fears Athos most of all. When he heard that Athos was getting impatient for their most recent spar, he dashed out of my office so quick that I thought he was being chased by a demon. However, his fears were well-founded because Athos deliberately fought him until he was trembling all over from fatigue. And Athos would've continued and probably injured the boy if I hadn't been watching and called a halt."

"We were about to stop it!" Aramis said desperately. Treville sent the medic a poisonous glare and retorted, "You should've stopped it when D'Artagnan signaled he'd had enough. But you didn't. Don't try to justify your actions, it won't do any good. The boy thought Athos was angry enough to injure him, that should tell you enough right there."

"You are all confined to the garrison, no missions. No pay either for two months, let's see how you like wondering where your next meal will come from and getting worked to the bone in the process." Louis hissed. "Once he is better, D'Artagnan will be Lemay's apprentice and my personal bodyguard until he is fully recovered and able to resume as a Musketeer. He will be given all previously denied opportunities to learn diplomacy, court etiquette and intrigue. All the things that you, my cowardly former Comte de la Fere," Athos paled nearly fish-white. "should've taught your protégé once he became my Champion. If he ultimately decides not to be a Musketeer, on your heads be it for you have disgraced your regiment and your Captain. I am ashamed of you and it will take a long time or a miracle before I trust you as I once did, though I will not speak for D'Artagnan's feelings. Now get out of my sight, I don't want to hear about you three unless absolutely necessary. Get out before I take my sword to you!"

With all possible haste, the trio left. Treville remained, feeling a great weight on his shoulders. Overwhelmed, he sank to his knees before his sovereigns. "Majesties, I must apologize. I have failed you as well. You would be within your rights to strip me of my position but I will accept any punishment."

"Stand, Treville." Louis said impatiently. When the older man was once more on his feet, Louis gently placed a hand on his shoulder. "There will be no punishment. You did the best you could, especially since your attention was split between the palace and garrison. When you saw the depth of the wrongs done to our D'Artagnan, you took steps to rectify it and notified me, as you should have. Now I will share your burden so that our D'Artagnan may recover and resume his service to the crown in all capacity."

Tears pricked Treville's eyes. He hadn't expected to be forgiven and didn't feel that he deserved it. The Queen approached and took his head. "You are making amends, Treville and you have our support. Perhaps that will be enough to bring D'Artagnan out of this dark place that he has stumbled into due to others' negligence and his own lack of self worth."

"I would certainly hope that it would be enough, my love." Louis said as he grimaced. "Otherwise our plans to have him be godfather to our coming child as well as my bodyguard will be for nothing, won't it?"

Treville blinked a few times and then his jaw dropped; he was literally speechless and the two young monarchs had a great laugh at his expense. "Y-Your Majesties... t-truly?!" His eyes fell to the Queen's stomach, which was still flat and she giggled. "It is just recently confirmed by Lemay, Treville but we do not wish to announce it just yet. Lemay estimates perhaps two to three months, so the babe will be born December or early January. Personally, I am wishing for a Christmas gift."

Treville stammered congratulations before taking a seat at Louis' behest to recover his wits. The Queen pregnant... and his boy would be the godfather! 'Oh, my boy, you have much to look forward to!'

"Pardon, Treville?... Your boy...?" Treville flushed upon realizing that he'd spoken aloud. "Pardon, Majesty, a mere moment of fancy." He tried to brush it off but Louis was looking stubborn. Again. Treville sighed and said, "While he was delirious, D'Artagnan woke to find me at his side. As I encouraged him to recover, he called me... Papa. I don't know if he thought his father, God rest his soul, was with him again but ever since then... my feelings have turned quite paternal."

Louis looked pleased. "Yet another thing to celebrate, it seems! I have always regretted your wish to not have children or a wife, Treville. Perhaps D'Artagnan can fill that gap for you." Treville took the words with a grain of salt but deep in his heart, the yearning took hold. 'Get well soon, my boy. You do not know what new and grand things await you or that you deserve them completely!'