Athos stared at the boy. From where he was perched, on the windowsill, he could only see his profile. But it was enough. Standing at attention, back straight, arms at his side, he still held himself up with arrogance and pride. His chin was up and his shoulders were straight. Athos did not doubt for a moment that there was a fire in his eyes and that his lips were set in a thin, tight line, trying to keep the words on his tongue in his mouth.

Treville was reading D'artagnan the riot act. And rightfully so. They had been sent to investigate a break-in at some nobleman's house, a friend to the king. It should have been a simple, hour-long, task. But when the man had made a passing remark about D'artagnan's age things had gotten out of control. D'artagnan demanded the man apologize and when he didn't he challenged him to a duel. When the man refused he called him a coward and slashed out with his sword, breaking a priceless vase. By then Aramis, Porthos and himself had joined them and dragged D'artagnan out of the house, Athos apologizing for the inconvenience. He had hoped that would be the end of it but the man had lodged a complaint with the Captain and now they were there.

"You have been here several months. It is about damn time that you started acting with the decorum expected of a gentleman in the capitol of France! You say you want to become a Musketeer, well I can assure you I will die before I let an ill-mannered youth into my brigade! I can't even look at you."

Treville shot D'artagnan a look of disgust. "Get out of my sight."

D'artagnan nodded his head and left the office. Before he closed the door Athos said quietly, "wait for me outside."

When he had closed the door behind him Athos got off his perch and walked towards his captain who had sat down behind his desk with a sigh.

"He is talented Athos. But he is arrogant and proud and reckless. I can't help him if he doesn't learn some manners soon. It will be beyond my control."

Athos nodded and considered the captain's words carefully before replying.

"I understand. I will endeavor to help him understand what is expected of him."

He locked eyes with the captain. Treville knew what D'artagnan meant to him, Porthos and Aramis. How they thought of him as a little brother and a reliable friend. And there was no doubt in anyone's mind that he would make a fine Musketeer, one day. Athos knew the captain well enough to know that he would give D'artagnan another chance because he was asking him to. But he also knew that D'artagnan had tried the captain's last nerve and there would be no second chance. Athos could not blame him for that, for he was justified because of D'artagnan's rash actions and behavior.

Athos nodded his respect at his captain and left.

Just as he had commanded, D'artagnan sat on a bench against the far wall of Treville's antechamber. The boy looked contemplative and contrite and Athos had no doubt he was. He always was afterwards, but it was his thought processes before he acted that needed amending.

"Follow me," he said, striding past D'artagnan without breaking pace. He followed as Athos expected him to.

"I am so sorry, Athos. I wasn't thinking. I let my anger get the best of me. It won't happen again."

Athos ignored the apology, though it sounded so very sincere. He had heard it to many times. So he walked, in silence, with the boy trailing behind him. Even when D'artagnan asked where they were going he kept silent. He knew the boy must be lost in thought and nervous for what was to come. And that was exactly what he wanted.

After walking through the streets for twenty minutes but what surely seemed like more to D'artagnan Athos made a sharp turn and ended their walk exactly where he intended all along. The Musketeer garrison.

He could feel the frustration and confusion radiating off the boy behind him as they walked through the gates and towards the open space near the table.

"What are we doing back here? Athos, god damn it, will you just talk to me!" Athos felt a strong grip on his shoulder. This is what he had been waiting for.

He quickly grabbed the hand on his shoulder and, in a practiced move, had D'artagnan's arm twisted behind his back.

"What the hell-" he hard the boy exclaim but before he finished the sentence Athos forced him onto his knees and put his knee in the middle of his back.

Slowly the heads of those Musketeers around turned towards them.

"Let me up." He heard the dangerous note in the boy's voice. The one that told him a storm was coming.

"Fetch me a rope," he commanded to the air.

This was when the real struggle was started. But he was prepared. While rash D'artagnan was not unpredictable to those who knew him. Using his knee on his back he pushed D'artagnan all the way to the ground and grabbed his other hand. The boy let out a stream of curses at him and shouted his release.

When a rope was in his hand Athos made quick work of tying D'artagnan's hands behind his back. He pulled the boy up and brought him over to one of the posts supporting the upper level of the garrison. Pushing him against the post he quickly tied him securely and started walking away.

"Athos, let me go or I will never forgive you."

He turned to face the boy. He could see the fury, embarrassment, confusion, betrayal and hurt in his eyes and face. It sent a piercing feeling running through his body, his very bones. But he gave nothing away, nor said anything to the boy. Instead he just turned away.

This was a lesson the boy had to learn. And a lesson he must teach.