Summarising a long story, I retrieved Ninon from the cloisters where she had been sleeping and brought her before the cardinal where they reached an agreement that she would hand over her wealth and estate in exchange for her freedom and the promise of a small income to support herself upon. It remained unfair that the cardinal would emerge with everything he had desired from the beginning and Ninon left with practically nothing, but it was the only victory we could claim. Afterwards, my brother and looked at me in disbelief. "You were planning to let her escape, weren't you?"
"Planning? I was succeeding, did she not miss her own scheduled execution?" I teased him, patting my brother on the cheek before sauntering away. It was difficult to say goodbye to Ninon, but we promised to write to one another, and once she was settled, I was invited to come and visit her. As a parting gift, Ninon had gifted to me a number of her personal items from her residence before the cardinal could lay his hands upon them. As per his agreement with her, Ninon had been allowed to take what she could carry with her into her exile. As such, she had packed a few necessities for herself.
As for the rest of her personal belongings, however, she gifted them to me. Her gifts had left me speechless when they arrived at my home. Boxes and chests of beautiful gowns, jewels and most importantly, as many books as she could possibly fit into the chests dedicated solely to the preservation of her library. My small abode which I shared with Athos soon become overrun with chests and items, all of which Ninon wished for me to have as a token of our friendship. I had stared at it all before sinking onto one of the chests just to keep from falling in shock. Perhaps strangest of all, was to see Ninon in such a humble place. "This is too much, Ninon."
"Nonsense, if anything it is not enough." She protested, looking around at my small home which was even smaller than her parlour. "So, this is where you live with Athos?"
"It is all we can afford, but it serves us well." Growing rosy with a little shame at my humble abode, I felt further ashamed that I had nothing to offer Ninon in terms of food or beverages. "Please forgive its simplicity, I would offer you a seat but…" I gestured to the overflowing abundance of chests, to which Ninon chuckled.
"I see that perhaps I was a little too eager to deliver my gifts and did not think of where you would place them," she apologised. "But I would much rather these things of mine go to you, dear Madeleine, rather than be sold to those who would only seek to possess them as trophies of my disgrace. At least I can leave them behind knowing they are in the hand of a friend." Moving to one of the chests, Ninon opened the lid to reveal the stacks of books and lovingly placed her hand upon one of the covers. "I only wish I could give everything to you. My entire library, my home…I would much rather see it belong to you."
"Be that as it may, I shall treasure every one of these things as dearly as I treasure our friendship," speaking softly, I rose to my feet in order to take Ninon by the hand. "Although, I do not know what I will do with these fine gowns. They will only become dirty if I wear them whilst working."
"I have a feeling that one day, you will have need of them," Ninon explained, gesturing to one of the gowns which I had seen her wear before, one of her personal favourites. "Where I am going, I will have no need of them. Perhaps they might be of service to you, but if not, then please do not hesitate to do with them what you wish. You may sell any and all, if you like. Even the jewels and the books. What matters to me is that they are useful to you. In truth, it is not much." Lowering the lid of the chest, Ninon then picked up a smaller box which had been placed upon the table with several others, all of them finely made with enamelled patterns upon their lids. "The most valuable jewels I had to leave behind, the cardinal was most explicit in his instructions that items of value were to remain to be sold…but at least these things are only of trinket value." She opened another lid, revealing to me the simple jewellery within.
There were several bracelets and necklaces, rings and broaches, hairpins and earrings, all of them simple in design and not of great value, but to me they were precious and priceless, as they were the gift of a friend. Closing the lid, Ninon then picked up the smallest box of all. "I especially wished for you to have this." Turning it towards me, Ninon opened the lid to reveal the golden wren broach she wore more often than any other treasure. Admittedly, I choked upon a sob as my throat swelled itself closed and I struggled to speak or even draw breath. "If nothing else, I hope that this will be something you remember me by." Still unable to speak, I clamped a hand over my mouth to keep the sobs from arising, mutely nodding my head.
Smiling with tears in her own eyes, Ninon fastened the broach to the top of my dress so that the bird rested upon the two chains, settling over my torso. I could do naught but cry, and so Ninon and I embraced as we bid our final farewells. It was time for her to leave, and I had no choice but to relinquish my grip upon her. I watched her leave, and then set to the task of shifting all the chests and boxes into my room to keep them out from under our feet. Each new treasure made me think of Ninon, and every time I thought of her, I touched the golden wren by its widespread wings. I hoped that given time, the circumstances of our lives might permit an easier continuation of our friendship, but for now Ninon must live in banishment, and I could not leave my brother. Not after Anne's return. I had to protect him from her.
Knowing that she was in Paris was enough to unsettle me, driving me to distraction. I would often go into a daze as memories resurfaced, an underlying fear of the woman who had ripped my life apart in a single day throbbing inside like a parasite. After everything she had done, it seemed there was no limit to how far she was willing to go for her own gain. I still did not understand why she had killed Thomas. Perhaps I never would. So long as I could one day ensure that she walked to the gallows and only left in an unmarked pine box would I finally be able to live in peace.
I rose earlier in the mornings, no longer able to sleep. My secret sessions training at the barracks lengthened until my hands were raw and blistered from lunges, parries and thrusts. I wanted to be ready to face her, but no matter how hard I trained, it only benefited me if I had a partner. One could not advance when their only opponent was empty air. Thankfully, Aramis remembered that I had told him when I trained and had awoken himself early just to see for himself. The air was fine and misty, damp from a light rain during the night but refreshing for someone who was training their body rigorously.
Having cut through a straw podium with a single slice, I heard someone begin to clap behind me. "So it is true, you are a blade proficient." Aramis praised as he approached, still clapping his hands before he halted beside me. "Very impressive, I must say."
"I do not think I have ever known you to willingly wake up so early in the morning, Aramis," I teased him gently as I sheathed the sword, wearing the scabbard upon a belt I had claimed from the armoury. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"Ah, I am here to collect upon a promise. I do believe you promised to spar with me, my lady." Taking several steps back, Aramis drew his sword with a flourish before adopting a stance ready to fight, smiling wolfishly all the while. My hand flexed at my side.
"Are you certain you wish to do this?" I questioned as I withdrew my sword once more. "I shall not go easy upon you, even if we are friends."
"Excellent, I should like nothing better than to taste your steel." How soon did Aramis regret those words. I danced circles around him, keeping my sword poised and ready to strike at all times. With every opportunity I struck Aramis with the flat side of the blade, even catching his posterior several times until he was yelping from the blows, leaping away from me fearfully. "You are a different woman altogether with a sword in your hand, Madeleine!"
"Indeed," I agreed smoothly, once more settling into my stance as I carefully watched Aramis prowl a circle around me. "Swordplay is no different than needlepoint, in some ways." When he made to strike, I parried with a swift succession of blows, moving too quickly for Aramis to follow before I had stepped behind his defensive line and hooked his foot with my ankle, dragging his leg from underneath him and pushing him to the ground. When he lay flat on his back, I pressed the tip of the blade under his chin whilst standing proudly over him. "One must always know exactly where to pierce with your needle." Raising his hands, Aramis duly surrendered. Pleased with my achievement, I helped him back onto his feet.
We left sword practice for the rest of the day, having Aramis swear not to mention my skills to anyone else for the time being. I did not want it to be known throughout the regiment that I handled swords, otherwise the views of the men might drastically shift against me. I was concerned that they would think me imposing upon their livelihoods, or aspiring to be one of them. This was not the case at all. Otherwise, I might never be able to get through a single chore throughout the day without someone challenging me to a fight. It was better for everyone if my secret remained just that. A secret. Aramis was glad to comply, and seemed quite pleased that he was now privy to an aspect of my life only Athos knew.
I felt better for having sparred with someone, and my initial alarm at Anne's return settled as she did not make another appearance, though I watched for her constantly. Even the slightest breeze was enough to make me look over my shoulder, thinking someone was watching me. I was certain that Athos felt the same, for he now anchored himself to my side more frequently these days. His greatest fear was that Anne would do something to me just to hurt him. I was afraid that she would do something to Athos purely out of spite.
The constant worrying and sleepless nights did nothing for my appearance, as I ate less and less to become more haunted and hollower than ever before. Even Treville grew concerned and was constantly trying to coax me to eat. He grew into the habit of carrying sweet things with him which often came from the palace, as there were always pastries and cakes going spare. I became very fond of macarons, as well as a little cake which was funnily enough, called a madeleine. These also became a favourite.
If it was not Treville, then Constance was also attempting to have me eat something, even if it was simple bread and honey. I looked a sickly creature; thus they took such pity upon me, but I was strong. I could continue working as before, it was the tiredness which was getting to me. Sometimes I would fall asleep in the middle of work. Once I had fallen asleep whilst talking and Porthos had almost been frightened to death when I had keeled over sideways. He had only relaxed when I had started to snore. According to d'Artagnan, that is.
Of late it became a rule that if I was discovered sleeping, I was not to be disturbed. Honestly, the captain was far too lenient with me, and once when I had slept half the day away, he refused to reduce my wages to reflect the work I had done. If he was not careful, he was going to spoil me until I was like the lazy and fat purring cats kept at the palace by the noble ladies for their amusement. I had told Treville as much, to which he'd chuckled and tickled me under the chin. I had giggled.
Such was my life, a constant rise and fall of emotions and events. We had lagged into a quiet lull for a time; thus I was not surprised when something arose to rattle the men and have them thriving with anticipation. A challenge between the musketeers and the red guards. A duel to see who the better champion was. I thought this a pointless farce which would only lead to further arguments down the road, but the men were excited and training hard to earn the right to fight for their pride.
Everyone was eager to participate, however the thirty livre entrance fee was an issue that meant many could not afford to enter the lists. "Well gentlemen, may the best man amongst us win." Aramis toasted as he poured wine for himself, Porthos and Athos whilst d'Artagnan and I sat upon the wooden steps, d'Artagnan singularly the most morose I had ever seen him.
"Those of us who are allowed to compete," he muttered unhappily. I nudged him with my foot.
"Go and talk to Treville. I am sure he will permit you to participate if you would but convince him that you are capable," I encouraged but d'Artagnan did not look at all convinced.
"You are a musketeer in all but name. All you lack is the king's commission." My brother was right, in my mind, d'Artagnan had been one of us for a very long time. He had proven himself time and time again to be worthy of the name musketeer. If only the king would take note, or Treville would push for the king to give the commission upon recommendation. I truly did not know why Treville had waited so long. I had asked him, but he had merely said that it was not yet the right time for d'Artagnan, that he still had much to learn. Of course, I trusted Treville's judgement, but it did seem rather unfair.
"There is just the thorny issue of the entry fee." Porthos reminded everyone, which immediately lowered their spirits. "Anyone got it?"
"My pockets are empty and the cupboard is bare," Aramis declared dismally as Porthos raised his cup of wine to drink.
"Yeah, I just pawned my cupboard." The three of them twisted, and I suddenly found them all looking at me. Raising my head from where I had been resting it, I recognised the silent questioning in their gaze.
"This is why I keep telling you men you should entrust your wages to me instead of spending it recklessly all the time," I berated them, hoping that this might teach them a lesson in taking better care of their finances and savings. Pursing my lips, I rested my chin upon my hand as I propped my elbow upon my knees to think, tapping a finger against the scar on my lip as I counted everything I had saved from my wages and Athos's, differentiating between our separate earnings before reaching a conclusion. "I have enough saved only for one entry, I'm afraid. Thirty livres is a lot of coin,"
"In that case, Porthos my friend, I think it's time for us to go fishing for a patroness." Beaming in anticipation, I shook my head with a sigh, letting myself rest back against the stairway once more. Men, so incorrigible. It would be much simpler if they would just allow me to handle their accounts as I did mine and Athos's. Though perhaps, I supposed it was easier to simply garner a patroness to support their needs, and it was a mutually beneficial arrangement, as I was told. The women they aimed for were often widows or rich, lonely women who were keen for male company.
Perhaps if I were richer, I would entertain the idea of a handsome young man petitioning me for attention and a little spare change. I would find it quite flattering. Both Porthos and Aramis left to seek their patronesses whilst Athos remained, no doubt to watch over me. D'Artagnan sat brooding for some time until finally I gave him a stronger kick. "Go see Treville!" Snapping at him, d'Artagnan leaped to my feet as if I had suddenly grown fangs and claws, jumping to scamper up the stairs and see the captain. Athos laughed.
"You frightened him half to death."
"His brooding was growing vexing," knowing that I had work to do, I tiredly held out my arms and flexed my fingers to summon my brother to me. He came instantly, answering my command to take my hands and wrap them around his neck so that he could lift me to my feet.
"Why not take the rest of the day off? You need sleep."
"I do not like sleeping alone."
"Then I will go with you." Smiling into his chest as I rested against him for a moment, Athos stroked at my hair, however in doing so he pulled several small locks free. The strands tangled themselves through his gloved fingers, drawing his attention which made him stiffen upon seeing them. I peered at his hand through a half open eye then curled my hand around his to pull the hair free and discarded them to the ground. "Madeleine, are you ill?"
"No, this has been happening of late." Tilting my head to the side, I pulled back my hair from the nape of my neck to reveal several small patches of bare skin where the hair had fallen away. "They will grow back eventually."
"This is not normal, Madeleine, and certainly cannot be healthy. Tell me what I should do." I smiled at him.
"Love me, cherish me, and spoil me rotten with sweet kisses," lifting my cheek, I tapped it expectantly which Athos promptly complied to place a kiss there, sealing his brotherly love upon my person.
"Go easy. Treville will understand if you want to take rest." But I had no intention of allowing my duties to go untended to. The soldiers had their tasks and I had mine. It may not seem important to others, but if I allow these men to go several days without clean bedsheets and shirts or freshly baked bread each morning then you would swiftly start to hear them complaining. Perhaps I was the one who had spoiled them with my coddling. It was certainly catching up with me now. I continued with my chores, Athos leaving to attend someone who had called for him, meaning that when d'Artagnan left the captain's office with an expression of stormy thunder, I was the only one to see it.
He began to leave, striding away but suddenly seemed to become lost. Transfixed to the spot, he sank back against the wall of the archway and just…sat there. Concerned, I approached him quietly. He looked devastated. Surely Treville had not refused him? No, there was something more. D'Artagnan looked as though he had suddenly lost everything in the world. Silently I came to his side and sank to the ground, wondering what I could say or if it was imprudent to ask. The quiet storm he weathered prompted me to hold my tongue.
Instead I sat next to him and slipped my hands around his arm, curling my fingers lightly to draw him towards me so that I could hold his hand between mine. Even if there was no words to offer him comfort, at the very least I could give him my presence. Gradually d'Artagnan leaned into me, his head resting atop mine as he brought his other hand to cover my own. Now I was uncertain who was comforting whom. "My father's farm was destroyed by the man we captured, Labarge." D'Artagnan revealed of his own accord. "I have nothing left." In answer, I tightened my grip upon his hands.
"You have us," I reminded him, hoping to ease the melancholy which had settled upon his heart. "You have your friends, and you have Constance. That is something more than nothing, is it not?" Unable to think of a response, I nudged my shoulder into d'Artagnan and bent my head so that I could see his face. "I am sorry for your losses, d'Artagnan. I know the farm meant a great deal to you. If there is anything I can do for you, just say so." Now at least, d'Artagnan eased a little.
"This is already more than enough, Madeleine. You are too kind to me," I chuckled quietly.
"Because of you, Constance has found a reason to smile. She is happy because of you, and that is something I can never repay you for. This," I gestured to the small and rather measly comfort I was able to offer, "is nothing compared to what you have done for her simply by loving her." Freeing one of my hands, I brought it to d'Artagnan's cheek, brushing at the fine stubble of his hairs and wondered if I should suggest he shaved. He would look much handsomer with a clean face, I thought. "The world will set itself right again, I promise you."
"I shall bow to your better wisdom, my lady." Now I laughed, amused by d'Artagnan's quick wits before swatting him lightly.
"Go on now, you have thirty livre to raise, do you not?" My gaze shone at him as he cocked his head, surprised that I had guessed the captain's decision. "I know Treville, and I know you. If you do not win this contest, then I shall wear a bucket on my head for shame." Suddenly grinning, d'Artagnan seemed tempted by the idea to see such a sight. "Do not dare even think it! Of you go now, thirty livre will not raise itself." Shooing him away, I watched d'Artagnan take off to clear his head and most likely see Constance. He looked back at me, however, offering me a smile which I returned. I was very fond of that boy.
"You will spoil him if you coddle him too much," Athos murmured to me as he came to my side.
"If I spoil one then I can spoil you all," quirking my brow challengingly, I looked at my brother with a smirk. "So unless you men like to awaken in dirty sheets and arrive to a cold breakfast every morning, then I suggest you allow me to coddle all I like." Athos smiled to me.
"I was not complaining,"
"Hm, could have fooled me." Cuffing my chin, Athos walked me back inside where I resumed my chores with newfound vigour and energy.