Title: A Hero's Disdain
Notes: Coming in at the last minutes. I am sure there are mistakes, but I wanted to get this up. I have to finish Paris, Texas, which is written but not ready. UGH
HAPPY NEW YEAR
Athos came down the stairs. He had been in Treville's office when d'Artagnan had come out to join the others for breakfast. Serge brought him a bowl of porridge that the nobleman looked with disdain. "Bontecou is set to arrive by the end of the week."
"Is he planning on staying?" Aramis paused in eating his buttered and sugared bread.
The young musketeer was unfamiliar with the name. "Who is Bontecou?"
"The hero of La Rochelle, said to have held back a hundred Huguenots," Porthos answered, then tapped his sword pommel.
"An exaggeration," Athos commented, toying with the spoon in the porridge.
Porthos shook his head in disagreement with their leader. "He's given the Musketeers a good name."
"He is considered the best of us," Aramis agreed, leaving d'Artagnan wondering about the hero musketeer. He always thought of the inseparables as the best in the garrison, the Gascon wondered about the man they admired.
"But he is stationed in La Rochelle?"
Aramis nodded. "Chose to remain there, which is why his visit is interesting."
"I look forward to meeting him." The Gascon hoped that his friends wouldn't mind him asking questions about the musketeer.
A week later d'Artagnan met Marcel Bontecou as he entered the garrison to adulation of the musketeers who were nearby. He didn't know what to expect, but the young man had painted an idea in his mind of a giant of a man. Instead Bontecou was as tall as Athos, but wider with obvious muscular build. Under his hat his hair was cropped short, while his beard was coarse dark and pointed.
The hero of La Rochelle greeted the other musketeers as he made his way to the stairs to the Captain's room. Aramis, Athos, Porthos and d'Artagnan found themselves face to face with Bontecou as he came down the stairs.
My friends!" The new arrival gripped Porthos's forearm and greeted the other two in similar ways. "Taken on a shadow?"
d'Artagnan had stood back, unwilling to intrude.
"This is our newest musketeer, d'Artagnan," Athos made the introductions.
Bontecou gave a nod. "Never thought you three would take on a pup." The man from La Rochelle laughed at in inside joke before sharing it, "Did he follow you home one day?"
The others smirked, and d'Artagnan tried to cover his embarrassment by laughing.
"It's an interesting story. . ." Porthos started, but was waived off by Bontecou.
"Perhaps tomorrow we can meet over a meal and you can tell me the story," his attention already diverted as he walked away.
Aramis took off his hat and slapped it against his thigh. "Signora Gabriella, Queen of the Stage from Venezia is gracing Paris with her presence once more. I will be seeing her tonight."
Porthos shrugged. "Then it is to the tavern without you."
Le Coq Assoiffé was not as diverting as d'Artagnan expected and he decided to make it an earlier evening, leaving Porthos with his gambling and Athos finishing his glass. The Gascon ambled in the darkness of Paris with eyes searching. The usual noises still required a few moments of scrutiny because of the hour.
It was unexpected to see Bontecou with his arm around a lady's waist escorting her into an awaiting carriage. He saw them kiss, and the woman's face clearly, recognizing her from the drawings around town announcing Signora Gabriella. Waiting until after they passed by in the coach, d'Artagnan made his way to the garrison for a night's rest.
The next morning Aramis was already seated at their table with breakfast in hand when Porthos broached the subject of their friend's amorous evening. "Didn't expect to see you so early this morning."
"La Signora was otherwise engaged with a previous commitment with the theater company, but has promised me tonight."
d'Artagnan frowned, but wanted to spare his friend any embarrassment. "I saw Bontecou with the actress."
Athos slid into the seat by the young musketeer. "The actress acted?"
Quick with a withering glare to the blue-eyed musketeer, Aramis was not above a retort. "It was night, and the lady has affections for me. It is not theater between her and I."
Bontecou saw the men as entered the garrison. "You look all to be in a foul mood."
For some reason Aramis did not want to believe that a woman had chosen another over him. "You're just the man to fix it. Any entertainment last night?"
The Gascon expected Marcel to talk about the actress, unwittingly not knowing that Aramis was supposed to be spending time with the Signora. "I reacquainted myself with a twice widowed woman who lives nearby. Why?"
d'Artagnan opened his mouth to speak, but was silenced by Aramis's glare.
"No reason. Mistaken identity in the darkness of the night. Right, d'Artagnan."
Perhaps he had been distracted or drank too much, which was why he thought he saw Bontecou. A quick nod seemed to satisfy the sharpshooter.
"Treville mentioned we are to present ourselves to the King today." Bontecou sat down scratching his beard until the spot he had attacked was pinked.
"Yes, as always when the King hears petitions," Athos drawled.
It was tedious to listen to the litany of complaints with the King taking most issues under advisement, failing to make a decision. However, in between a villager asking for taxes to be lowered and a farming problem, the Cardinal whispered into Louis's ear. Bontecou was called forward.
"They know each other from La Rochelle," Porthos explained. d'Artagnan recalled hearing about the Cardinal's leadership at the battle.
"He's a favorite of the king," the young musketeer commented.
Aramis, like the others, had been scanning the room to see if there was potential for discord. "Are you jealous that you've been displaced?"
Those in the hall seemed to have their attention focused on the King and Bontecou. Louis was asking for a story of the hero's adventure. "What? No. I'm not the king's favorite at all."
"Oh, he knows your name," Porthos added. It was true that as a new musketeer he drew more attention, but since Athos's winning fight with the Duke of Savoy, d'Artagnan believed his mentor was always in the monarch's line of sight.
"Maybe not right now." Aramis grinned.
Somehow as the days passed d'Artagnan grew to like Bontecou less and less, but he grew in the esteem of the other musketeers, especially the recruits. It was among the recruits that there seemed to be a growing dissent against d'Artagnan.
The recruits and d'Artagnan had been close, having spent time together before the Gascon became a musketeer. Soon some of them would receive their commissions. The young musketeer could commiserate with them, but they had means and family to turn to whereas d'Artagnan had only the musketeers.
"Why do not the rest of you train with the inseparables?"
Once d'Artagnan had overheard that, then he requested Athos, Aramis and Porthos work with the recruits. "They seem to want Bontecou's attention," Porthos commented after agreeing to spend some time with the potential musketeers.
Trying to avoid the recruits and Bontecou was a bit of a challenge, but his friends seemed not to notice. He did not want to explain himself and hoped either that Bontecou returned to La Rochelle or he could weather the problem.
It was not to be as a musketeer had fallen ill and Treville had arranged for d'Artagnan to take the evening shift, along with assigning him the recruits. Bontecou invited himself. As they patrolled the streets of Paris, Bontecou made comments at the Gascon's expense, but it was as their shift was ending where the friction grew worse.
Bontecou was pulling the four recruits with him.
"I thought I heard something." There was one more street, which his friends had promised he would pay attention to on duty. d'Artagnan started down the streets and noticed no one was following. "It's the Baron Anjou's Paris home."
"A Baron's home? Favors already?" Bontecou's feral grin could be seen in the moonlight. "That's what they've been teaching you?"
The Baron was always kind to the Musketeers when there needed to be a delivery to his land. "No, he has daughters." He had young daughters that were often in Paris with their mother and servants.
"Daughters you say?" Bontecou elbowed the closest recruit, Searle. "My you are a climber. Is that why you became a musketeer? So you they could see you in court?"
d'Artagnan held back the biting words as his honor was trampled. "I'm going to investigate." It was an order the recruits should have followed.
"We are going to the tavern." Bontecou led them away from the young musketeer.
Sword out, d'Artagnan treaded down the street. A cat in a darkened alley made him jump, causing him to shake off the nervousness. He lowered his sword, figured that the sound had been nothing until he saw one man at the wall of the Baron's home looking up to see another man going over the stones.
Running, the young musketeer tackled the man on the ground to stun him. The other man descended, then kicked d'Artagnan's side, but with his main gauche he struck at the man underneath him. Pulling his attention away from the dead assailant he turned to deal with the other man. The footsteps could be heard going down the street so d'Artagnan tried to follow, picked up speed even though his side burned from the blow. Eventually, though he was chasing a ghost and decided to return to call the undertaker and then report to Treville.
An exhausted d'Artagnan came into make his report hours later as the dawn was breaking. It had been a long evening and the garrison was preparing for the day. Treville was coming out of his office and saw the Gascon, gestured that he would come to him.
Unfortunately, Bontecou made his appearance with the recruits trailing behind. Taking a deep breath to ignore the angry churning in his stomach to tell the Captain what had occurred.
"You allowed the other one to get away? Why didn't you ask for help? Where were the others?"
"Bontecou-"
d'Artagnan's friends had arrived, but not intervened as they remained listening.
"The boy wanted the glory for himself." Marcel interrupted.
"No, that's not-" The young musketeer took a step forward as he raised his voice. He felt Porthos's put a hand on his forearm and pull him back.
Instead Bontecou moved so that their noses were almost touching. "That's unacceptable. Change you're tone, boy in front of your captain."
Aramis cleared his throat, which at least caused Marcel to step back along with allowing d'Artagnan to focus on Treville. "That is not what happened, Sir."
"He would be punished in my day," Bontecou replied.
It seemed as if Treville had been placed in an unenviable position. No one was standing with d'Artagnan. The recruits had not spoken on his behalf, which left it at his word versus that of the hero of La Rochelle. "You're restricted to the garrison."
"He's young. He'll learn." Bontecou said as he passed Athos to go upon his way.
d'Artagnan wiped a hand down his mouth. "I did ask for help, but he-" The Gascon gestured waived his hand at Bontecou.
Athos's expression was grim. "We are set to leave for a mission. I assume you will follow orders while we are away."
The disbelief must have been evident. He had done nothing wrong, but wanted his friend's assistance with righting the matter although he was starting to sober as he realized the status Bontecou held.
"When we return we will speak of this." Aramis gave a nod, which d'Artagnan returned in acceptance.
Still stunned, he watched his friends go into the stable and return with their mounts. The young musketeer decided to go into his room to rest, or if he admitted it to himself, to hide away.
(())
Falling into an uneasy sleep led to d'Artagnan spending far too much time in bed. Getting up, he went through the motions of his duty and he trained, but word had spread about his altercation with Bontecou so he was not being treated kindly.
The recruits were openly disdainful infecting some of the other musketeers who held Bontecou in high esteem.
"Finally left you behind since they've done their job and got you your pauldron. Guess following them around like a puppy works."
"They'll never think of you as an equal.".
He wished he had been allowed to go with his friends as there was comfort in their camaraderie. d'Artagnan was thankful that his punishment was only restriction, which also allowed him to form a plan.
As evening set and the sky filled in with inky blackness and a dusting of stairs, d'Artagnan remained hidden, watched for Bontecou. When the older musketeer appeared d'Artagnan stayed back to follow him.
It was surprising to find himself at the edge of the Court of Miracles. Staying within the darkness where the moonlight did not hit, the Gascon moved closer. Bontecou was talking to another man.
"We begin by asking the merchants to pay for protection against those degenerates in the Court."
"Then everyone will turn against them."
"No need to burn the place to the ground."
"You will have the Musketeers do their part?"
"The Cardinal will stand by his word?"
d'Artagnan wished he could will himself back to the garrison. He had to bring word of Bontecou's deceit, but a moment of doubt crept in. Would Treville believe him? The young musketeer's lapse cost him as Bontecou spied him. d'Artagnan had a duty to the other musketeers and to protect the citizens in Paris.
(())
They could have stretched the mission and traveled at a leisurely pace, but between them there had been an unmentionable need to return to the garrison. It was still early morning when they arrived to hand off their horses to the stable hands to report to Treville.
Athos was brief as the delivery of the letters occurred with no interference.
With the meeting concluded, Aramis turned his concern to their other friend, "And d'Artagnan?"
"We have not mustered yet so he should be in his room."
"Thank you, Sir," Porthos answered to follow the others out towards the young man's room at the garrison.
A quick knock was not answered along with a calling out of d'Artagnan's name so Porthos pushed his friend's aside to carefully open the door.
The room was simple and mostly unadorned since the young Gascon did not have many worldly possessions. Yet, he was missing even though he was restricted.
"His bed has not been slept in." Aramis sat on the bed, scratching his beard as he looked around the room.
"He was ordered to stay at the garrison." Porthos slapped his hat against his thigh.
Athos narrowed his lips. "Our Gascon went to seek justice."
"I will inform the Captain and take the north for my search," Aramis stood up, but Athos grabbed his arm.
"Not a word to anyone else."
(())
Porthos could only hope the others had better luck. After looking in every alley, checking in with merchants and even go into taverns, there had been no sign of d'Artagnan. The thought that the Gascon was missing was starting to cause some worry. The young musketeer had made some accusations against Bontecou, but the young man although hotheaded was not a liar. They had regretted their lack of interference, but felt the time at the garrison would allow d'Artagnan to settle.
The large man would never know what drew him down an alley he thought he had checked, but he walked further down to notice it broke off into a narrow way wide enough for him to fit in. It was dark, but enough light shone in to see a foot and leg.
"d'Artagnan?"
Porthos had to pull the young man up, then drag him out before manipulating the Gascon into his arms to carry. d'Artagnan's chest was rising and falling to confirm he still was alive, although the blood and marks on the younger musketeer put doubt into Porthos's heart for how long he would remain that way.
Running and trying to pick up speed, he hollered at those who tried to get in his way. "I need help!" He yelled as he entered the garrison out of breath. "Find Aramis and Athos!"
His orders were followed. The commotion caused Treville to come out and send for a physician immediately while leading the way to d'Artagnan's room. Porthos was not about to give up his charge just yet.
"We need water and bandages," Treville barked to the nearest musketeer.
They needed to get d'Artagnan cleaned up to see the extent of the damage. Porthos started to undo the ties of the doublet, controlling his fingers from shaking as more vivid bruises could be seen on the young man's torso.
The water was handed to Treville who started to wipe down d'Artagnan's face. "Where's the physician?"
Huffing and puffing a larger man pushed into the room. Both Porthos and Treville gave him room to work. The Captain exited with a nod to other musketeer who was watching the physician and listening for Athos and Aramis's arrival.
The more that was revealed, the more Porthos was sickened. d'Artagnan's face was swollen and bruised to such a degree that it deformed his features. One arm was broken and the other had a deep slash, still bleeding. The young man's torso had sustained a heavy beating with boot prints evident, cracking and breaking multiple ribs. A stab wound was high on his chest, thankfully seeming to avoid internal injuries. The physician's ministrations resulted in the Gascon groaning as his body was jostled.
Galeau, the physician requested more water and rags. When Porthos was returning with the procured items he saw Aramis and Athos rushing in towards him.
"Where is he?" Athos asked, but was already climbing the stairs.
Porthos shook his head. "Wait, you need to know-"
Aramis stopped Athos before he entered d'Artagnan's room.
"We do not know if he can see." Porthos exhaled.
Both Athos and Aramis paled in an instant. With that warning, they entered. Galeau must have sensed the charged air because he moved out to the way to give them men access to their fallen friend as Porthos described how he found him along with the injuries.
"d'Artagnan?" Athos crouched, then got on his knees. "d'Artagnan?"
Porthos could hear Aramis muttering prayers, and physically Porthos added his support, standing shoulder to shoulder with the sharpshooter.
When the injured musketeer groaned, Athos persisted, repeating d'Artagnan's name once more. It was difficult to see if the young man's eyes were opened because of the black bruising. The Gascon started to pant with eyes wildly searching. "Athos?"
"Blink once, d'Artagnan if you can see me." Athos placed a hand on the Gascon's shoulder as it was uninjured as he stood in d'Artagan's line of sight.
"Athos?"
"Listen," the nobleman ordered. "Blink if you can see me."
Porthos and Aramis crowded in. The younger man's eyes watered, but he blinked. He could see Athos.
"Good, that's good." Athos's voice was gruff.
"Athos?"
"Shh. Just rest."
"You'll be fine. We'll take care of this," Aramis reassured, gestured to the physician to return to his patient.
(())
Athos nodded to the door once he was sure Aramis and the physician would take care of d'Artagnan. "Show me where you found him."
They were leaving the garrison when Bontecou stopped them.
"Bontecou." Athos acknowledged, but looked at the man's hands noticing no mark of violence on them.
"Just wanted to check in on the boy." Marcel bowed his head. "He may not like me, but I mean him any ill will."
Athos gave a nod, but Porthos was vocal. "We will find justice for him."
"He'll want it for himself," Athos said in closing to Bontecou with Porthos following behind.
In the alley they could see the evidence of what had happened to their young friend. Multiple men had attacked him, overwhelming him although there seemed to be a bit of swordfight before he had been pressed against the wall. Then they had dragged the boy into the small inlet believing he would not be found.
"Do you think anyone will admit to seeing or hearing anything?"
Looking around the neighborhood, Athos deduced that the people would not cooperate, but still an effort must be made.
They returned with shadows of information to march up the stairs to d'Artagnan's room, finding Aramis and Treville watching over the young man. An oily substance shined his face, which was still swollen and bruised. His nose had been straightened and arm tucked placed on pillows. There was an herbal smell mixed with blood, but d'Artagnan had been cleaned, a white shirt covering the other damage.
"Will he survive?" Athos pulled up a chair.
Treville stood. "If there is any change, please let me know." Porthos took the Captain's abandoned chair.
"Aramis?" Porthos prompted. They had not received an answer.
The sharpshooter scratched his neck. "I don't know. If there is damage inside the body. . ."
The words drifted into silence until there was a knock at the door. No one was there, but three bottles of wine and a tray of food had been left for them. The food was picked at while they watched d'Artagnan breath, then groan and wince, but he did not wake.
Aramis trickled some tea in the Gascon's mouth while Athos massaged the young man's throat so that it was swallowed.
"It's not enough." Athos bent over so his elbows where on his knees. "We should not have left him behind. We should have not have let him endure punishment when there was no clear idea of what had happened."
"We were sent on a mission and returned as soon as possible," Aramis reminded his friend.
Athos was still not accepting, would only if d'Artagnan woke up sound.
(())
Two days passed with the three of them sleeping, eating and remaining in d'Artagnan's room. Aramis prayed as he applied his herbal tonic of chamomile, witch hazel and lavender to d'Artagnan's face to help the bruising. It was lessening to reveal the Gascon's normal features. The stitched cuts were clean.
Captain Treville continued to have food, drink, bandages and water brought to the room on a regular basis so when there was a knock at the door, Aramis expected a similar delivery. Instead it was Dubois pushing himself through the door passed Aramis. Athos and Porthos stood at the intrusion.
"I saw Bontecou meeting with the Red Guard and it looked friendly. Too friendly, if you ask me."
"What are you saying?" Athos's voice was rough as there had not been much talking.
Dubois grimaced. "That maybe we didn't see past the shine."
"Thank you." Aramis escorted the musketeer to the door. "Can you tell the Captain we need to speak to him?"
There was a need to make a plan, but it centered on d'Artagnan's recovery first. They would give the young man some more time to wake to see what he remembered, but in the meantime Bontecou would be carefully spied upon.
Treville gritted his teeth. They had all been made fools of by a man they had trusted.
Speaking of their plan had taken all their attention so it took them a few moments to realize that the moans they had become accustomed became something more.
"Athos?"
It was a repeating whisper, but it brought the men to their knees. Aramis felt tears come to his eyes.
"d'Artagnan, you are safe," Athos placed a hand on the Gascon's head.
They were rewarded when a few blinks led to a more focused gaze.
"'bout time!" Porthos roared and slapped Aramis on the back.
The medic in Aramis got to work, fixing a drink to help d'Artagnan in his recovery as Athos spoke quietly to the young man. Treville had slipped out with a smile on his face, since there was a feeling of hope in the air.
"d'Artagnan, we're going to sit you up so you can drink. Nice and easy." Aramis guided the two men, then Athos maneuvered himself so he was behind the Gascon along with some pillows.
The young man huffed at the change. The sharpshooter gave him some time to recover before setting the cup against the injured man's lips. "Small sips. A little at a time."
"Aramis?"
"Porthos found you hurt in an alley." Aramis explained, not wanting to overwhelm the young man.
"Porthos."
d'Artagnan started to move his unbroken arm towards his face, but Aramis set it back in place. "You were punched in the face-"
Porthos interrupted him. "-a lot, but it's looking better. You'll be back to looking like yourself soon enough."
"Okay." d'Artagnan licked his lips.
The young musketeer shivered, and Athos pulled up the blanket further. "Do you remember what happened?"
It was too early to press, but Aramis understood the need, especially if Bontecou was somehow involved.
"I tried. I did try." The boy was starting to panic.
"Of course you did." Aramis gestured for Athos to lower the boy more so he could rest.
Porthos helped so that Athos could move out from under the young man. "You fought hard. We know it."
"Just rest," Athos soothed until d'Artagnan finally relaxed and went to sleep.
(())
The next time d'Artagnan awoke it was dark except for the light of one candle.
"Are you with us?" Athos asked trying to get his attention.
Aramis pressed a cup to the young man's lips. "It's some water."
"What do you remember?" Porthos was in the shadows trying not to overwhelm the lad.
The Gascon started mumbling.
They could not touch his face so Athos went for his shoulder. "d'Artagnan we know you fought hard, but we need to know what happened. It's important."
"Of course you fought. Your injuries and your hands speak of this." Aramis lifted the bruised hand.
"I. . .my sword, he took my sword. . ."
The story was slow and halting, but they allowed him to rest after getting an understanding of what had happened. Bontecou was in league with the Red Guards and the Cardinal. They had chased him down, forced some sort of awkward sword fight before Bontecou left him to almost be beaten to death by half a dozen Red Guards.
"I'll kill him." Porthos moved his hands so they looked like they were ready to wrap their hands around Marcel's throat.
"We have to talk to Treville." Aramis mopped d'Artagnan's brow to remove the sweat from the distress.
"While I speak to the Captain, perhaps you can take a look at Bontecou's room." Athos looked pointedly at Porthos.
Porthos grinned. "I will meet you back here."
As they reported to Treville, Porthos came bursting in. "He has d'Artagnan's sword."
"Captain?"
"Perhaps talking to the recruits is in order." "Dubois has already informed me of what he witnessed."
When Bontecou returned to the garrison, the sound of the men in the yard lessened until there was silence and the musketeers moved to the side. Treville came out of his office, Athos, Aramis and Porthos exited d'Artagnan's room with d'Artagnan's sword strapped around Athos's waist.
"Has the boy passed?" Bontecou asked, looking around the blank faces.
"Thankfully, not," Treville answered.
Aramis placed his hands on his hips. "He will recover. d'Artagnan has a most stubborn nature."
"He's also loyal to his brothers," Porthos added with a growl.
Athos withdrew the sword. "Unlike you."
"Me?" Marcel batted the sword away, but Athos returned it so Bontecou withdrew his sword. "I assume this is a lapse of insanity."
Athos tapped the blade as he set out the crimes. "You're planning with the Red Guards and the Cardinal. You tried to murder d'Artagnan, a fellow musketeer."
Bontecou paled, but then lifted his blade. Athos gave a small smile as he got what he wanted- a battle for honor.
It was a well matched swordfight that Porthos relished in telling d'Artagnan about with Bontecou's power and strength against Athos's finesse. The different styles made for an eventful fight, but Athos was the victor when a blow sent Marcel stumbling. Athos held the sword to Bontecou's neck.
"Resign as a musketeer and talk to the Cardinal about serving him in La Rochelle. You are not to set foot in Paris again," Treville ordered.
In another move Athos cut the straps of the paldron so that it fell to the ground.
"Leave the cloak," Aramis reminded him, but Athos made it easier for Bontecou and cut the cord of the cloak.
They watched Bontecou leave looking straight ahead, not meeting the eyes of the other musketeers.
Athos had already turned his back. "What will you tell the king?"
Treville bowed his head. "I will let the Cardinal explain. Bontecou is now his problem."
"Captain, we would like to continue to tend to d'Artagnan for the time being." Aramis requested though they had spoken about it earlier amongst themselves. In addition, for the time being they would make sure that d'Artagnan went on missions with them.
"I will stop in later to check on him," Treville said as a dismissal.
(())
It was two more days until d'Artagnan was more like himself, but still injured and healing. Porthos and Aramis re-enacted the swordfight as Athos's shook his head.
d'Artagnan shifted as it was difficult to find a comfortable position. "I am sorry I missed it."
"You were there in spirit." Athos pointed to the blade that was hanging off of the back of a chair.
d'Artagnan lowered his head. The swelling had gone down significantly, but the bruising was still marring his features. Porthos mentioned that it hurt to look at the younger man. "I did not mean for this to happen."
"Of course you didn't." Aramis with his legs crossed and relaxed as the Gascon was through the worst of his injuries.
"The recruits followed him." d'Artagnan went to touch his face and a look from Aramis had him resting his hands back down.
"When you're a hero then they will follow you blindly, too." Porthos snorted, sitting on the end of d'Artagnan's bed to squeeze his foot.
The young musketeer licked his lips. "That's what the others were saying about me and you three." d'Artagnan looked up. "Like a puppy."
"You're not any puppy that I know." Porthos made a face.
Athos leaned forward. "You showed persistence and fortitude, d'Artagnan, which they lack."
"It is not any musketeer that is able to remain in our company and thrive," Aramis added.
Porthos laughed. "More like survive."
d'Artagnan said nothing, but his sigh was filled with reassurance that he was where he belonged.
The end,