Athos looked over the rim of his wine glass across the busy tavern. His gaze swept over the usual mix of people. Fellow Musketeers grouped together, some jovially talking about their day, others - like Athos - more pensive and calmer. There were a couple of young whores moving through the crowd of men, their hands grimy from the harsh existence, trailing over the arms of potential customers. A table of tradesmen was huddled together holding court about something. Athos scrutinised the traders for a few seconds before deciding they were not going to cause any bother.

His friends were sitting at a table in the middle of the tavern. Porthos was teaching d'Artagnan the finer points of cards. D'Artagnan looked baffled. Athos hid a smile. They each had their talents, and each had things that would never be fully understood. Aramis had leaned back in his seat and was talking to the young woman who was serving them.

The young woman, her blonde hair falling about her shoulders in ringlets, had her head tilted to one side. She was resting in that way women did, on one hip, with the large tray she was carrying tucked into her side. A smile was playing on her lips.

The woman was enjoying whatever it was Aramis was saying. She leaned forward at one point and said something quietly into his ear. Aramis shrugged and shook his head with what Athos suspected, was mock shock. The woman gave Aramis a playful shove before wandering off to another table. She was called over to the tradesman's table by one of the men and was soon in conversation. She glanced back at Aramis a couple of times.

Athos' attention was drawn back to his friends. D'Artagnan had played a hand of cards which caused Porthos to laugh out loud. Aramis, his attention back on his friends, had looked at the cards before chuckling as well. D'Artagnan looked between them for a few seconds before looking back at his cards. It was not until Aramis rearranged the cards that their friend finally understood whatever it was that had amused Porthos and Aramis so much.

D'Artagnan stared at the cards for a few more seconds, his brow furrowed before he shook his head and got to his feet. He grabbed his cup of wine and stalked away from the table. Athos smiled at his friend when he wandered closer.

'It is a subtle art,' said Athos with a nod towards the table Porthos and Aramis were still sitting at.

'I thought I had a good hand, one that was likely to win,' said d'Artagnan who still seemed confused. 'But it was a really good hand. I just couldn't see it.'

Athos nodded, 'and that is how Porthos wins. Have you noticed that he always makes sure his opponents have a drink in front of them?'

'I thought he cheated to win.'

Athos shook his head, 'he does not always need to.'

D'Artagnan sighed and settled silently watching the other patrons of the tavern. Athos could see his friend keenly taking in each individual in much the same way as he had a few moments before. They were never fully off duty. They were always watchful. Even Porthos and Aramis would know what was going on around them.

Athos watched the people moving around. The tradesmen finished their drinks, and the group broke up. There were swift goodbyes as they wandered towards the door. Three of the men turned right, whilst one walked purposefully to the left.

'Is that why you don't play with him?'

Athos looked at d'Artagnan for a few seconds trying to work out what his friend was talking about.

He nodded as the realisation came to him, 'I realised, quite early on, that Porthos is not a man to play cards with for money.'

D'Artagnan sighed, 'Aramis plays cards with him. I've seen him lose a few times.'

Athos smirked, 'but have you ever seen Aramis lose when he challenges Porthos to a shooting competition? The wins and losses even out between them.'

D'Artagnan mulled over the information for a few seconds before going back to his wine and observing the room. They settled into a companionable silence.

A few more people left. Porthos indicated that he was leaving as well. He pushed a few coins towards Aramis who scooped them up and rose from the table. Both Athos and d'Artagnan reached for their money bags as Aramis approached them.

'I'll meet you outside,' said Aramis before wandering towards the back of the tavern to pay for their drinks and meal.

Athos drained his cup before rising from his seat. He followed d'Artagnan from the tavern, their conversation returning to the merits of making bets with people who cheat.

MMMM

Aramis chuckled to himself, thinking about the look on d'Artagnan's face when he realised he had a better hand of cards. The total confusion their friend had experienced had been the highlight of an already enjoyable evening. The food they had eaten was better than usual, Porthos thought it actually tasted like pork and not some mixture of whatever cheap meat the landlord had managed to source.

He waited for the landlord to finish talking to the young woman who had been serving them. The woman smiled at Aramis as she walked back to the main room, Aramis smiled back.

The landlord coughed to draw Aramis' attention back to him and held out his hand.

'Thank you, monsieur,' said Aramis. 'Excellent as always.'

Aramis dropped the coins into the landlord's hand, he looked at them for a few seconds before nodding and bidding Aramis a good evening.

Rather than weave his way back through the remaining customers Aramis slipped out of a side door onto the alley that ran alongside the tavern. Scarcely had the door closed behind him when he was roughly grabbed and shoved into the wall opposite.

Aramis twisted around in time to see a fisted hand coming towards his head. He ducked out of the way. His attacker punched the wall causing him to howl in pain. The man had not been pulling the punch, Aramis was glad he had avoided it. He backed off a few paces.

The man was clutching his right hand in his left, breathing hard as he rode out the pain.

Aramis realised it was one of the traders who were sitting together in the tavern. The one the serving woman spent most of her time talking to.

'You leave my woman alone,' stuttered the man through clenched teeth. 'I know about you.'

Aramis shook his head and held out his hands in a gesture to calm the man down. But the man had other ideas. He charged towards Aramis who only just managed to step aside. As he moved across he clipped his heel on a low step and stumbled back hitting the corner of a crate before tumbling to the ground.

The angry trader had also landed on the ground and was busy pushing himself back up.

'I didn't do anything to your woman,' Aramis said as he struggled to get to his feet before his angry attacker did.

'You were talking to her. You want to sleep with her.'

Aramis was about to respond but did not get the chance. The side door to the tavern was opened revealing the landlord.

'Michal,' he said sternly. 'Get away with you.'

Michal glared at the landlord, before shuffling back a few steps. Aramis watched him go before turning to the landlord.

'My apologies,' said Aramis, 'he misunderstood the situation. He thought I was being inappropriate with his wife. I … er … didn't realise she was married.'

'Sarah knows what she's doing,' said the landlord. 'She can look after herself.'

The subject of their conversation appeared in the doorway. She watched her inebriated husband stumble off around the corner.

'This is what you get for trying to get free wine,' said Sarah with a shake of her head.

Aramis noticed the landlord's demeanour change.

'They didn't get free wine,' continued Sarah with a glance at the landlord before she looked back at Aramis. 'Like he said, I know what I'm doing.'

Aramis was aware of his friends walking up behind him.

'What happened?' asked d'Artagnan.

'Nothing,' said Aramis. 'A misunderstanding. That's all.'

Porthos huffed out a laugh, 'that misunderstanding has left you with a bloody nose.'

Aramis shifted awkwardly with embarrassment.

'I think it goes without saying that you are not welcome for a while,' said the usually friendly landlord before he returned to his tavern followed by Sarah who looked amused.

'Why are we not welcome?' asked Athos.

Aramis reluctantly told his friends what had happened. Their reactions ranged from a withering look from Athos to a hidden smirk from Porthos.

D'Artagnan shook his head, 'you'll be the death of us all.'

Porthos stepped forward and looked Aramis over with a critical eye, 'you'll never change.'

'It might have been worth it if we got the free wine,' said Athos as he turned to walk back along the alley.

Aramis was not sure if he agreed.

The End.

Whumpee: Aramis. Featuring: Athos, Porthos and d'Artagnan.