Treville sat at his desk, trying to read the papers in front of him with his unfocused mind. He couldn't concentrate, his thoughts elsewhere. His mind was on his men, well not his men, not anymore. They were Athos' men but he still considered them as his sons, even though he was the first minister now.
He thought of D'artagnan, hoping that the young musketeer and the others who were taken would be returned to them shortly. He knew Athos, Porthos and Aramis were following a lead they had gotten from one of the prisoners, Athos having keeping him updated with what was happening through the letters that they had exchanged.
With a heavy sigh, Treville leant back into his chair, deciding that the papers could wait. Instead he stood, deciding to head to the garrison and see how things were holding up.
Once he got there, he climbed from his horse to find Elodie and Sylvie sat at the table in the yard with Marie, a few of the recruits training in the centre. He looked up to see Constance walking down the stairs, papers in her hands and a frown on her face as she read them.
"Constance," Treville greeted and the woman looked up. The frown on her face disappeared the second her eyes landed on him, a small smile appearing on her lips.
"Treville, it's nice to see you," Conatance said, coming to the bottom of the stairs before gesturing over to the table where Sylvie and Elodie were sat.
"What are you reading?" He asked her as he took a seat down opposite her and next to Sylvie.
"The supply numbers. We seem to be running through them quicker than we can restock," Constance said with a sigh, placing the papers onto the table in front of her. "We have another set coming in later today, but it's limited due to most supplies going to the front line," she said to Treville who nodded in understanding, knowing Constance was finding it hard to run the garrison with the war hanging over their heads like a thick black cloud.
"Have you heard anything from Athos?" Sylvie then asked.
"They're following something up," Treville said and Constance straightened, hope of finding D'artagnan suddenly rising within her. "It's only a lead from a prisoner though," Treville added and Constance nodded.
"But it's still something," Elodie said, freeing a hand up from holding Marie to take Constance's and give it a squeeze.
"I trust Athos, Porthos and Aramis are doing whatever it takes to find them," Sylvie and Treville hummed in agreement.
"I'll keep you updated but I won't be getting any letters from Athos until they come back from following the lead up," Treville said, glancing towards Constance and feeling the woman's pain. "I heard about Marcheaux and Édouard," Treville began and Constance sighed.
"We're dealing with it," she replied and Treville raised an eyebrow at her.
"Nothing too dramatic though Constance, I can't have the two regiments at each other throats," he said and Sylvie turned to look at him.
"The Red Guards shouldn't have come after one of us," Sylvie said before leaning forward to grab herself a drink from the centre of the table. Treville looked at Sylvie before glancing to Constance, seeing the dark bags under her eyes.
"How are you coping?" He then asked. Constance took her time to answer, thinking of the right words to say.
"It's a struggle," she then began. "But I have the garrison and these two to keep me occupied. The thing that is the most painful is knowing D'artagnan and the others are going through hell," she said and Elodie gave her hand another reassuring squeeze.
"They're strong soldiers," Treville then said. "I'm sure they all will be retuned to us safely," he said and Constance hummed, glancing down at the table.
"But how much damage would this ordeal have caused them?" Constance then asked and Treville fell silent.
"Wars difficult but they're strong," he simply said before standing, bidding them a farewell and climbing onto his horse.
He kicked his horse into action, slowly riding through the streets of Paris to the palace.
He couldn't stop his mind from slipping back to his men and wondering what the hell was happening to them. He knew the Spaniard's would be putting them through tough times, draining them physically. However, he wondered how much it would affect them mentally.
He had seen what war could do to a man, good and strong men falling to the trauma that was war.
Being a prisoner, tied up in an enemy camp, God knows what that could do to a man.
He thought of Aramis and how the marksman had stumbled into the garrison after Savoy. He had looked like a shell of a man, bones showing from the limited amount of food he had eaten. Dry blood covered his face and clothes, a bandaged poorly wrapped around his head.
He remembered how Aramis' screams had woken the garrison late in the night, Porthos and Athos not daring to leave their brothers side no matter what. He would come into Aramis' room, after the screaming had quieten, to find Porthos cradling Aramis against his chest with Athos sat mere inches away from them. The look on both their faces were a sight to remember, scarring his thoughts of how much pain he could feel from all three of his men.
So yes, war was a terrible thing and he tried to avoid it no matter what, seeing what it could do to someone. It could strip a man of who he was and leave a shell that was completely unrecognisable.
He had been to war before, knew what it was like to face the enemy head on. His heart went out to the musketeers, they were out there protecting France while he sat behind a desk buried under piles of paper.
Treville let out a sigh as he rounded the corner to the gravel road up to the palace. He kicked his horse into a soft gallop, dust and bits of rock kicking up as he rode to the palace. One of the stable boys came running over, quickly taking Treville's horse by the reins as the minister climbed down.
He thanked the boy before entering the palace, dusting his clothes of slightly as he did so. He walked down the corridor to round the corner and find the Queen walking with her son and a few of her maids walking behind.
"Your Majesty," Treville said, bowing as she came to a stop in front of him.
"Treville," she said with a soft smile. "Do we have any word from the front?" She asked and Treville knew who she was enquiring about.
"The Captain and a few of his men are following a lead up in rescuing the missing musketeers, however there had been no word of their return to camp," he informed Anne and she nodded, looking down at her son who simply stared up at Treville.
"Thank you Treville, please keep me updated if you hear anything," the Queen said and Treville nodding.
"Of course Your Majesty," he said before bowing, the Queen and her son moving to walk passed him.
He straightened up as the Queen's maids and a few of her ladies in waiting walked by. He watched them walk down the corridor before disappearing around the corner.
With a heavy sigh Treville turned and walked, heading towards his office and trying not to think of the worst for his musketeer's.
Thought I'd put two chapter up to make up for the wait, thank you all so much for the reviews they make my day reading them all. Hope these two chapters were good, tell me what you thought :)