Saints and Sinners, Ch. 3

The next few days at the Garrison passed as they usually did. Christine's week was interspersed with her attendance at court and a luncheon with the Queen in which she thanked her Majesty once more for advocating on her behalf for the role she now played in the regiment.

"I'm more than happy to," said the Queen. "Your talents would be wasted otherwise. France is better for your service."

Returning to the garrison, Christine was greeted by D'Artagnan in the courtyard of the Palace.

"Hello," she said, greeting him warmly. "Finished duty?"

"Yes," he said, grinning at her. "And just in time too. It seems as though I'll have the privilege of your company for the return trip to the garrison. Perhaps we can try to make Aramis jealous!" he said with a mischievous grin.

Christine laughed. She gladly took the young musketeer's arm as he led her down the familiar roads back to the garrison. As they neared the gates, Christine saw Gavreau exiting. She tensed slightly as he approached. D'Artagnan glanced at her quickly when he felt her react.

'Afternoon Comtesse," said Gavreau with a mock bow.

"Gavreau," said D'Artagnan. All the humour that had accompanied the pair on their walk from the palace vanished instantly.

"Are you her next treat, D'Artagnan? I'd be careful. She seems to have quite a taste for musketeers."

"Everyone but you it would seem," said the Gascon coldly.

Gavreau grinned. "Come now lad, you know these high-born whores like to be rolled around in the mud. I'll just wait my turn. I heard she's gotten through half the garrison already!"

Before Christine could stop him, D'Artagnan had launched himself at Gavreau and delivered a vicious punch to the man's face.

"How dare you," he snarled as the man reeled, hand clasping his jaw. "I should kill you for those filthy words," he said and made to pull his rapier.

"Please," said Christine, pulling back on his arm and preventing him from drawing. "It's not worth it. They're only words."

D'Artagnan stopped, his brown eyes burning like the gates of hell as he glared at the vile musketeer.

"You're going to regret that," Gavreau said, glaring at the two of them, and spitting blood at D'Artagnan's feet, he turned and marched away.

"I wish you hadn't done that," Christine said quietly, her hand still restraining the musketeer who looked as though he wanted to follow after Gavreau to continue their conversation with blows.

He turned rapidly towards her. "He had no right to talk to you that way. Nor should he speak to any woman in such a manner."

"They're only words D'Artagnan," she repeated with a sigh, still not looking in the musketeer's eyes.

"Ill words broker ill deeds," he said. Looking at her face he said, "How long has he been bothering you?"

Christine folded her arms across her chest. "It's been a few weeks now, since I started helping in the infirmary – but it hasn't been more than snide remarks and gross insinuations," she added seeing his reaction.

"Christine, you need to inform Treville!" he cried.

"No!" she said back firmly though keeping her volume down. "I would lose my position if I did."

"But your safety – "

"Is fine! I'm a grown woman D'Artagnan, I can take care of myself. They are just words. Please, don't say anything about this."

"You need to tell Aramis at least. Or Athos. Either of them. Both of them!"

"No," she said putting a calming hand on his arm. "If this is your reaction, imagine theirs! I will not cause a disturbance in the regiment over some bruised feelings. Please D'Artagnan, if you are truly my friend you will let this go."

He looked at her, grey-blue eyes begging for his agreemeent. "Alright," he grumbled and taking her hand he gave it a squeeze, "But if he says anything again, if he tries anything, you'll come tell me right away."

"I promise."

oOo

As they entered the garrison they saw Aramis and Porthos sitting at their usual table. D'Artagnan looked at Christine and frowned. This would be more difficult than he thought.

"Anything the matter?" Aramis asked as the two approached, exchanging a quick glance.

"Just fine," she said brightly as she breezed past him for the infirmary.

"What about you?" Porthos asked D'Artagnan.

D'Artagnan grimaced and stared after the comptesse.

"Nothing," he said. "Stomach bug," and retreated to the stables.

Aramis and Porthos exchanged a look, then rising, they split up, Aramis in pursuit of Christine and Porthos after D'Artagnan in the stables.

oOo

"Hey, kid, what's eatin' ya?" he said as he found D'Artagnan aggressively attacking a hay bale with a pitchfork.

"It's nothing," he said with another vicious lunge into the offending hay. His horse in the stall next to him shuffled agitatedly.

"Come now. Out with it," he said, stepping between the Gascon and the straw.

Frustrated, he tossed the pitchfork against the wall and said, "How well do you know Gavreau?"

Porthos' expression darkened. "Not well," he said. "I always try to avoid his sort, lest I lose my temper. Why?"

"Has he ever said anything…done anything…?" D'Artagnan trailed off.

"He's a loudmouth and crude, but he's a good fighter," Porthos said, looking at the young man with concern. "Did he threaten ya or somethin'?"

"I just don't trust him is all," said D'Artagnan, helplessly. He hated lying to his brothers but he had sworn he wouldn't say anything.

Porthos frowned. He could tell D'Artagnan was hiding something, but he knew better than to pry. With a small smile D'Artagnan and Porthos left the stables to fetch an apple or carrot for his horse as an apology for perturbing it.

oOo

The infirmary door was open as he approached it.

He knocked lightly, but she didn't seem to hear him.

Christine stood in front of the medical cabinet, but didn't seem to register anything that was in there.

She jumped backwards as he lay a hand on her back, clutching a dagger that she kept hidden in the folds of her skirt.

"Aramis!" she gasped. "You startled me!"

Aramis frowned at her, his hands up to show her he was unarmed.

"You're startled? You've never pulled a blade on me before," he said as he lowered his hands and took a seat on the bed across from her.

She straightened up and tucked the blade away, blushing slightly.

"I'm sorry,' she said as she began fidgeting with the bottles lined on the cabinet shelf. "I'm a little distracted."

"Did something happen at court?" he asked her, his eyes narrowing at her odd behaviour.

"What?" she said distractedly. "No, everything was fine. I had a lovely luncheon with the Queen," she said.

"Christine," he said rising and taking her hands in his, he kissed the inside of her wrist and placed her palm on his chest. "Tell me what's wrong."

"It's nothing," she said, giving him a small smile. "I must just be tired. Will you take me home?"

oOo

The night was cloudy and the rain fell heavily. Christine clung to Aramis as they lay together in the bed.

Something was troubling her, he knew, but she deferred and deflected every time he had asked her that night. He stroked her back, his fingers entwining with her dark hair as he stared up at the bed's canopy. In his heart he knew that he would go to any lengths to protect her, to ensure that she was happy. This feeling of not knowing, this helplessness he felt was almost more than he could take. She curled a little closer into his side and he kissed the top of her head, praying that she was receiving the relief or assistance in that action that she would not ask him for when awake.

oOo