#Captain Tréville

[highfunctioningflailgirl]

Les Trois Mousquetaires, Chapter 23

This one's got a lot of foreshadowing and feels like we're entering into the second act of the novel.

D'Artagnan, still in the afterglow of his accomplished mission, returns home to find a letter from Constance asking him for a date later that night. Problem: The letter made it into his apartment although all doors and windows had been closed, and Planchet didn't let anyone in. D'Art isn't worried since Constance is his landlady, but his servant is.

On his way out, d'Artagnan cannot avoid Bonacieux and has to suffer through the man whining about his imprisonment. At least he learns that Constance told Bonacieux that she's at the Louvre tonight, for work. 😉

D'Artagnan stops by Tréville for a chat, and while the Captain is proud of d'Art and loves that the Cardinal got roasted, he is also worried. He even advises our young Gascon to sell the ring and be on his guard.

"...celui qui s'endort sur une mine dont la mèche est allumée doit se regarder comme en sûreté en comparaison de vous." (who falls asleep on a grenade with a lit fuse can consider themselves safe, compared to you.)

And then, very casually, Tréville asks: "Btw, what has become of your three companions?", which leads to d'Artagnan finally giving him the full story of their adventure in detail, including leaving all of the Inseparables behind wounded, in mortal danger or - quite possibly - dead.

When they get to d'Artagnan killing de Wardes it turns out that de Wardes was a cousin of Rochefort and close to the Cardinal. Ooops.

And then Tréville mildly suggests that, if he were d'Artagnan, he'd go back to Picardie to check on his friends. It's kinda the least he could do.

D'Artagnan promises to do so - tomorrow. Tonight, he's got more important things to do.

*smh*

*kicks him in the shins*

This chapter leaves us with three questions:

How bad will Tréville's headache be after these news?

Who was the person who gave d'Artagnan the ring? Was it really the Queen?

OMG, d'Art, can you please go and check on your brothers?!

[dragongutsixofficial]

Thoughts on episode 4 s1:

I love Tréville and Richelieu's interactions. I need to see more of them together on screen

How does Tréville's coat hang on his shoulder like that ?????

During that confrontation scene the gang looked ready to throw him down the fucking stairs. He knew

Louis XIII is actually a pretty nice character so far !! I'm surprised oAo

The Duke of Savoy being surprised over Athos wanting to kill him while book!Athos never needed a reason to kill anyone

A bit disappointed that the King's sister wasn't the evil mastermind all along but the intrigue still slayed

Not enough Milady. but Richelieu was there so it's all good

Constance if your fate is anything like it is in the book you better learn to shoot and fight like a pro

Did Aramis put his own sword on Marsac's grave ? If so, I'll be checking if he still uses it in the next episode. "actually I need this, sorry bro"

[apieters]

“I…collect swords, you see. I take them from the men I’ve killed.”

Et voila, she is finished! And what’s this? Chris Carnovo is a Musketeer? Not just any Musketeer—he’s M. Tréville himself! Which leads me to…

The Founding of the Royal Musketeers

In the Magic Kingdom, being a member of the Royalty comes with significant occupational hazards, between unscrupulous magic-users, scheming advisors, and the occasional treacherous family member. The princes and princesses have long recognized the need for bodyguards, and for many years that role was filled by the Royal Guards.

The Royal Guards were an order of men-at-arms who filled this role. Armed in medieval armor and carrying medieval weapons, the Guards were a pool of trained bodyguards who, at any moment, could be summoned by any member of the Royalty to defend their persons. They also did police work, crowd control, etc. in the areas surrounding Royal residences. At one point, Chris’s friend André Caron (one of the other main characters of Swashbucklers of the Magic Kingdom) was a member of this unit. Due to the nature of the job, many Guards were honored with the prestigious title of Knight of the Magic Kingdom.

That is, until Tristan L’Hermite took over.

Tristan L’Hermite, the Black Knight, was named Captain of the Royal Guards by Minister of Justice Claude Frollo, and quickly turned the Royal Guards into the officer corps of his own personal army, which he used to terrorize first the nobility he had sworn to protect, and then the common people of the Magic Kingdom. As his Reign of Terror began, the Royalty of the Magic Kingdom began looking to replace the Royal Guards with a new unit.

Chris Carnovo the tyrannosaur was a former privateer, a fencing master, and a fight choreographer who was unmatched in his skill with a rapier. As the Reign of Terror began, he began to fulfill the role of bodyguard for King Mufasa of the Pridelands, his chief client and benefactor, and it was he who came up with the idea of an elite unit of swordsmen, trained by him, to bodyguard the Royalty threatened by Tristan L’Hermite.

The first swashbuckler to answer his call was an old shipmate, “Porthos the Pirate,” whose real name was Isaac Porthos du Vallon, but others soon followed—Armand Athos, the Count of La Fère; René Henri Aramis D’Herblay; Count Rochefort, who later betrayed the Musketeers and left to captain the guards of Cardinal-Duke Richelieu; and the man who would become his right hand amongst the Musketeers: Bertrand de Batz D’Artagnan. Chris soon assemble a large corps of noble-hearted swashbucklers and trained them in the art of rapier. As a uniform, Chris decided on a short blue tunic or cape with silver crosses, although he himself chose one of the rejected designs as his own uniform. For headquarters, a large mansion belonging to one King Henri IV (a cousin of Cinderella’s father-in-law) was gifted to them, and so King Henri became a special patron of the Musketeers. For this service, Princess Cinderella elevated him to the ranks of the aristocracy, bestowing on him the title of Count of Tréville, by which title his is most often referred by the Musketeers.

The Musketeers’ record was impeccable, and no prince or princess was ever captured by Tristan L’Hermite on their watch. By the end of the Reign of Terror, the Musketeers made up more than half of the able-bodied defenders at the Seige of Pride Rock, their captain Chris Carnovo leading the defense himself until Mufasa, liberated from the Palace of Justice by André, arrived with reinforcements to put an end to the Reign of Terror.

Chris lead the Musketeers ably for some time after the Terror, but eventually decided to retire from full-time Musketeering. Such was the Musketeers’ love for their commander, however, that they begged him to stay in some capacity. Chris eventually accepted the title of Commander Emeritus, leaving the the day-to-day running of the Musketeers to a Captain, while being in charge of training new recruits in the art of swordsmanship.

Commander Emeritus is not, however, an empty title—the acting Captain has more than once turned to the Count of Tréville for advice and, when he is present, the Musketeers naturally acknowledge him as the Captain’s superior, even siding with their beloved M. Tréville when his and the Captain’s views conflict. In a few emergencies, Chris has taken back active control of the Musketeers, but then returned command over to a capable Captain.

At the time of Swashbucklers of the Magic Kingdom, the Captain of the Musketeers is Bertrand’s son, Charles de Batz D’Artagnan, most famous for foiling an attempt to kidnap King Henri’s son and successor, Louis XIII, before ever donning the blue tunic. Early in the story, Chris Carnovo must take Prince Kopa of the Pridelands along as he supervises a fencing tournament held by the Musketeers. But when the Cardinal’s Guards attempt to disrupt the tournament, the Count of Tréville knows that the first duty of a Musketeer is to protect their charge—and Kopa may be in more danger than getting caught in the crossfire…

[theinseparables-if]

are there any trans characters in the story? can the Mc be trans? :o)

Yes, d’Artagnan can be trans!

As for other characters, Nasira falls under the trans umbrella as do several other characters that you will meet and interact with, including Captain Tréville who will become somewhat of a father figure towards d’Artagnan and is a trans man <3

[aragarna]

Hello ! For the "give me a character" ask, if you still do them, can I give you Captain Treville ? Thank you !

Hi Anon! Thank you for the ask, whoever you are :-)

I'm guessing (and please forgive me if I'm wrong) that you're either a fan of the original book, or (more probably?) a Musketeers BBC fan, as I think that's the only adaptation where Tréville has any significant importance. Sadly, I've seen only a few episodes but I'm not that familiar with this show*. So I'm afraid I don't have like a very developped opinion of him, nor ship ideas (though to be fair, I rarely ship outside of canon ships LOL).

But I will say that, in the BBC show, like in the book, he's like the father figure who is at the same time exasperated by his musketeers' shenanigans and proud of their accomplishments. Someone has to be the adult, the boss and the responsible one. Someone has to answer to the King or the Cardinal, and it's fallen upon Tréville to answer for his soldiers. So he scolds them in public, but gives them his 100% support and is secretly amused by the chaos they create.

(Oh god, is Peter Burke the Tréville of the White Collar musketeers?!)

But he will absolutely defend them and no one else but him is allowed to be mad at them. And who doesn't like a boss like that?

*I am slowly working my way through it because it's streaming for free in France (on M6 replay for any French reading this).

Thanks again for asking! :-)

[dans-le-vif]

little background stuff gem: that one time where Tréville is in the background (blurry of course :(  ) and he has problems taking his cape off ... n clue why it amuses me so, but it does  XD

[animanightmate]

I am juuust about keeping up with my self-imposed weekly update schedule where works come out on Thursdays and chapters within those works possibly more frequently, where applicable.

The next couple of works/ episodes are meaty, and may well see a slowing down, just to preserve my sanity (also known as the Magical Buffer). However, I’m super committed to keeping up a reliable release schedule, even if only for my own sake, so the, er, six of you reading this series can depend on seeing new works on the regular.

Chapters: 2/2 Fandom: The Musketeers (2014) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Louis XIII de France/Historical Male Character, Louis XIII de France/Milady Clarick de Winter (mentioned), Louis XIII de France

[chiaraanatra]

Tend to Your Wounds (Aramis)

Summary: You tend to Aramis’s wounds

Warnings: Injury, mentions of blood, kissing

Word Count: 1540

AN: we’re not going to question where the other boys are. Also, I have a firm belief that Aramis would always ask for consent! Feedback is always appreciated!

《  m.list  ||  ao3  》

You sat at the window of your godfather’s hotel overlooking the Garrison. It had been a quiet day; the recruits were tending to the stables and other work that kept the Garrison running as smoothly as possible. The musketeers were escorting the queen’s cousin to the Louver, and your godfather was at the Louver discussing some matters with the king. You on the other hand were left to your own devices.

You had moved into the Garrison shortly before your 13th birthday, almost ten years ago. Your parents had passed and requested that Tréville looked after you. Being a good friend of your parents, he took on the job of raising you, even though he questioned his qualifications. Sure, he was a great captain but that did not necessarily translate into being a good parent to a 13-year-old.  

You helped out around the garrison, keeping the barracks in check when the musketeers and recruits were out on missions. As you grew you were taught useful things that every teenager should know, how to load and shoot a pistol, how to defend yourself using a sword, how to stitch up wounds left by swords and bullets, and how to adjust dislocated joints. By the time you were 17, you were the closest thing the garrison had to a doctor.

You let out a soft sigh, letting your mind wander. It couldn’t help but wander to a certain tall, handsome brunette… You were quickly brought out of your daydreaming by a knock on the hotel door. Who the hell would be knocking? You opened the door to find a bloodied Aramis standing in front of you with a weak smile. When your mind had wandered to the Musketeer Aramis this was not exactly what you had in mind.

“Hello. I might need some help…” Aramis walked past you to the chair that you had previously been sitting on. He glanced back over to you and noticed the concerned look on your face, “don’t worry, not all of this is mine.”

Of course, he would be making light of the situation at a time like this. “Yes, that is quite a comfort…” You walked over to grab your bag of medical supplies and a bottle of clear grain alcohol. You pulled up a chair in front of him. “What the hell happened?” You help him out of his leather pauldron before kneeling in front of him to carefully unbutton his shirt which looked like it had been torn to shreds.

“You know…” he let out a soft groan as he shifted in his chair. “When I picture you on your knees in front of me there is significantly less blood… and clothing” he chuckles softly before groaning once more. You rolled your eyes as blood rushed to your cheeks. You tugged at his shirt, lacking the delicacy you held prior; Aramis gritted his teeth as pain radiated throughout his body.

Aramis had known you since he had first been recruited years ago. You two had grown close, much to Tréville’s chagrin. To be fair, Tréville didn’t trust anyone near you, taking on a somewhat fatherly role. However, this statement reigned particularly relevant to the musketeer Aramis, who was known to be a flirt with a way of obtaining what he wanted from others.

As you removed the shreds that remained of the musketeer’s shirt you surveyed the damage. Slashes and bruises covered his tan skin and blood was continuing to pool from a bullet hole in his shoulder. You placed his arm on the table, “I see the bullet… I’m going to have to take it out in order to stitch you up properly.” You handed him the bottle of booze before setting out your instruments. When he handed you back the bottle, you gave him an apologetic look, “I won’t lie to you… this is going to hurt.” He gave you a nod acknowledging what you were about to do. You poured some of the bottle’s contents into the wound to disinfect it. Aramis bit back the noise that he wanted to let out. You got to work quickly removing the bullet from his shoulder. You held a rag up to slow some of the bleeding and prepared to close it along with some of his deeper cuts.

As you worked on closing the deeper cuts, Aramis’s deep brown eyes were fixed on you. He watched as your tongue would wet your lips and the light crease that your brow created as you focused. He had always thought you were one of the most beautiful creatures he had ever seen, a beauty he wish God had created just for him.

His memory brings him back to the first time he had met you; he was a young recruit of 19 and you were the godchild to the Capitan, only a year or two younger than him. During his recruit training, he was slashed on his leg and Tréville had ordered him to go up to the hotel for medical attention. When he made his way in, you were waiting to stitch him up.  He remembered your gentle touch, how you described everything you were going to do in an attempt to minimize any fear he may have had. In truth, the only thing he was focused on was you, your bright E/C colored eyes, the lightness of your touch… Ever since that moment the thought of you never left his mind. If he were, to tell the truth, he wouldn’t want it any other way.

Truth be told, Aramis loved you. He couldn’t tell if it was the adrenaline, his injuries, the alcohol, or how you were only a few inches from his face, however, he needed to get his feelings across to you.

After finishing the last stitches, you grabbed a bowl of warm water and a clean rag. You sat on the chair opposite Aramis and began to clean some of the now-dried blood that was scattered across his chest. You leaned in closer, not yet realizing just how close to the brunette you were.

If you were to be truthful, you had fallen for Aramis shortly after he had joined the Musketeers. He never looked down on you or treated you any differently because of your relation to the captain. Rather you two became quick friends, friends that carried a veil of tension between them. However, neither one of you had ever confessed your feelings to the other.

As you were finishing your work, you had taken notice of just how close you were to Aramis. You could feel his gentle breath against your cheek. You swallowed not daring to look in his eyes, “I know there is no point in telling you this, but you should rest for a day or two and allow yourself to heal.” You wanted your voice to come out stern but instead, it sounded like a mixture of concern and nervousness that you prayed Aramis couldn’t detect.

You closed your eyes for a moment, letting your head dip down while waiting for a sarcastic response. However, no words were spoken. Instead, you felt warm and calloused hands rest on your chin, gently tipping it up so you were forced to meet his gaze. Just as you were about to speak to break the tension, Aramis interrupted. “Can I kiss you?” The words fell from his lips before he had time to contemplate what he was saying.

Before you could think about what he had said, let alone your reaction, your lips were on his. The damp rag in your hand fell to the floor as you placed one of your hands on his cheek as the other made its way into his hair. His good arm found its way to your waist bringing you closer to him. The kiss was slow and gentle and filled with more passion than either of you had ever experienced. with its intensity growing the longer your lips stayed connected.

You were the first to pull away. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, “Aramis… I-I love you… and I know that we are good friends and I don’t want to mess things up and I understand if you don’t feel the same and-” before you could spiral any further you felt his lips on yours once more. You couldn’t help but melt into his touch

“Y/N I have loved you since the day you stitched my leg when I was just a recruit.” He held your face in his hand to ensure you could see his sincerity as he spoke. “You are one of the most amazing people I know. Yes, we are good friends, but I have wanted to be more than that for quite some time.” Pink dusted his cheeks as he confessed to you, “I want to be yours if you will have me, and I would love nothing more than for you to be mine.”

A smile graced your lips, and you wrapped your arms around Aramis’ neck and kissed him once more. As you parted, a giggle fell from you that left Aramis with a confused look, “what’s so funny?”

“Which one of us is telling the captain?”

As always, feedback, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

𝑊𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑎 𝑏𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑔𝑒𝑑? 𝐿𝑒𝑡 𝑚𝑒 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 💜

[weissengel]

[nordleuchten]

Dear all, maybe some of you can help me out. I am in search of four different books:

1. Memoir by the chevalier Dubuysson 2. Memoir by vicomte de Mauroy 3. Journal of a Campaign in America by Du Rousseau de Fayolle/Journal d'une campagne en Amérique par Du Rousseau de Fayolle 4. Journal of (Captain) Latouche-Tréville

(Latouche's journal may or may not have been published under a different name.) I have seen little excerpts of all of these journals and memoirs here and there but I would love to read them in full. French, English, German, ... It does not matter. So if anybody knows anything about these books (I know the names are a bit more obscure), if you know where I can get my hands on a physical or digital copy, please let me know! :-)

[rogueholmes]

Musketeer March 2022 Day 12: Astronomy

Title: we are the dust of dust

Fandom: The Musketeers (BBC), Doctor Who

Bingo fill: “Let’s do something spontaneous.” for @anyfandomfluffbingo

Warnings: N/A

Word count: 824

Summary: The day before Captain Tréville dies, the Doctor visits him.

Read it on AO3

[highfunctioningflailgirl]

Les Trois Mousquetaires, Chapter Three

D’Art is finally standing in front of Captain Tréville. Who, face like thunder, is yelling three names into his antechamber: “Athos! Porthos! Aramis!”

Sound familiar? 😄

Papa Tréville is royally pissed, because our Muskie boys got themselves arrested by the Cardinal’s Red Guard for the usual shenanigans. (Same procedure as every Friday, I suppose).🤣

d’Art, becoming the involuntary witness to Tréville ripping Aramis and Porthos a new one, ponders hiding behind a curtain or under a table. Cringe.

But Papa Tréville can’t be mad at his boys anymore when he hears that it was all foul play on the Red Guards’ part (or was it?🤔), and particularly when he hears that Athos - who’s peculiarly absent - is “very ill.”

Porthos, prone to exaggerating, claims that Athos has smallpox - a children’s disease at the time. (Porthos isn’t the brightest candle on the cake in Dumas canon.)

Tréville sees through his BS and figures out that Athos is injured after fighting the Red Guard - and he immediately turns into worried, protective Daddy Tréville.

While Aramis is still busy dramatically explaining that Athos was stabbed through the shoulder and into the chest and may not live to see another day, the door opens, and in walks Athos, looking noble, beautiful and deathly pale, pretending that he’s totally fine - only to faint onto the floorboards a minute later.

(Welcome to the Athos-stoically-hiding-a-severe-injury trope being born, my friends.)

Exhibit 1:

(Also, can we talk about Aramis and Porthos leaving him lying in the street the night before, not bothering to pick him up, “because he seemed to be dead”? Excusez-moi?!)

After Athos has been carried off to a chirurgien, d’Art can finally come forward with his wish to become a Musketeer. After a brief interlude in which Tréville suspects him to be a spy the Cardinal wants to plant into the Musketeers regiment, d’Art is disappointed to find out that he cannot become a Musketeer until he’s seen battle and proven himself in a lesser regiment. Tréville promises him to get him into the Royal Academy for training (and for dancing lessons, mind you.🕺🏻)

The scene finds an abrupt ending when d’Art spots the thief of his recommendation letter through the open window and leaves a not-amused Tréville behind.

Also - Tréville appears to know the thief and Milady. Were they on a mission for him? For the king? Or for the cardinal?

Stay tuned!

[talvenhenki]

Portamis pirate AU (◔‿◔)

So my pirate knowledge is all based on Black Sails (lol) so I'm using that somewhat as a base for this!

So, Porthos, Aramis, and Athos are all members of Captain Tréville's crew of the ship The Silver Musket & the newest addition to their crew is d'Artagnan the (not) cook (he had a very bad day and just didn't wanna die when his ship was boarded by pirates)

Porthos is the son of an escaped slave; Aramis was banished from his country (Spain? France? Idk) after he was found out being with a man. They met at Nassau which is The Silver Musket's base of operations

During their free time, Aramis and Porthos tend to go for little adventures around Nassau

Aramis has a complicated relationship with his faith because his countrymen used religion to justify banishing Aramis even though Aramis is convinced that God created all the ways to love and thus did not make Aramis a sinner just because he also falls in love with men

Porthos' mom lives in a nice little cottage on Nassau and often hosts Porthos and Aramis (and sometimes also Athos) between missions

Once The Silver Musket encountered a ship carrying one of the people who banished Aramis and the man recognised Aramis. He tried to beg his way out of imprisonment but didn't live to regret it after he made the mistake of insulting Porthos

[apieters]

Captain Chris Carnovo, the Count of Tréville, ordering the first salvo of the Siege of Pride Rock; end of the Reign of Terror.

It was the Magic Kingdom’s darkest hour. Tristan L’Hermite, the Black Knight, had just captured Mufasa, leader of the heroic characters of the Magic Kingdom. Sarabi was nowhere to be found. Princess Cinderella, Prince Henri “the Charming,” King Arthur Pendragon, and Prince Taka/“Scar” alone commanded a shattered army of lionesses and other Talking Animals, Gypsies, a few knights and cavalry, Peter Pan and his Lost Boys, Captain Hook and the crew of the Jolly Roger, and as many Royal Musketeers as could be spared. Defending their Royal Majesties was Captain Christopher Carnovo, the founder of the Royal Musketeers and the honorary Count of Tréville, along with his choicest men—Bertrand D’Artagnan (the more famous Charles’s father), Athos de la Fère, Porthos du Vallon, and Aramis-René d’Herblay. Unfortunately, their were many more women and children, refugees from Tristan’s wrath, who were unable to fight.

These figures had retreated to Pride Rock to make what they all knew was their last stand. Prince Scar, as Acting King of the Pridelands, was ready to surrender and sue for peace. Chris, however, knew Tristan well and knew that if he should prevail, there would be no quarter—everyone would end up in the Palace of Justice, tortured for the remainder of their days or even executed. Chris would never allow such a fate to befall those who sought his protection—not while he lived.

Tristan’s armies were advancing rapidly. The heroic characters were hopelessly outnumbered. There was no way they would survive the upcoming battle. Chris looked once again at those who were looking to him for protection, and made a desperate decision. In defiance of Prince Scar, he assumed command of the war council and laid out a his plan. All those who wished to fight to the death would resist Tristan’s armies as long as possible, deployed in trenches before Pride Rock and choke-points on Pride Rock. Underage warriors were put to work reloading pistols and muskets, while the veterans would fight on the front lines. The goal wasn’t to win the battle—the goal was to clear a path for the non-combatants to escape to the four corners of the Magic Kingdom to seek shelter wherever they could find it, and to take out as many of Tristan’s officers as possible. If they could destabilize the leadership, there might be a slim hope that the Reign of Terror would degenerate into bands of easily overpowered and disunited thugs, and when these were picked off there might be hope to restore the Magic Kingdom.

As Tristan’s soldiers marched over the horizon, like a thousand black ants carpeting the savanna, a heavy rain began to fall. Captain Carnovo stepped out onto the edge of Pride Rock, drew his sword, and prepared to do his duty one last time.

[thejennyeverywhereproject]

IX.

The Briefing of M. De Tréville

Thankfully, De Tréville, the Captain of the King's Musketeers ended the awkward moment by entering the room. "Well done, all of you," he said. "You put the Crimson Guards to route. Now, of course, begins the hard part."

"I knew it!" said Athos.

"In three days time begins the auction," said De Tréville. "No doubt there will be other plots and subterfuges in that time. Our object, of course, is to ensure the King gets his hands on it at all costs--which means we may have to engage in a few of our own."

"Oooh," said Jenny. "Exciting. I hear the King of England is sending some of his people here."

"Yes," said De Tréville. "Specifically, his daughter. She can't be allowed to get ahold of it either, of course."

"I've heard of her," said D'Artagnan. "I suppose the usual tactics of distraction won't work on her. Her iron heart is said to be proof against Cupid's bow."

"I've heard of her too," said Jenny. "I've always been curious." "Well perhaps you can distract her, then, Gaynor" said Aramis. "You're a strange one, just as she is." "A moment," said Porthos. "Do you care to explain just what is this object that's got all of Paris in a tizzy?"

"Yes," said De Tréville, "but you must promise that knowledge must never leave this room."

The Musketeers all nodded.

"It is the Legendary Time Crystal," said De Tréville.

[visionsfromsoup]

Day 8 - Favourite female character

The silence was slowly killing her.

Outside the window, spring was in full-bloom - sure, there wasn't a single tree or even a patch of greenery in the cobble-paved street below, but above the surly façades of the crumbling buildings the sky was a glorious blue screaming with joy. Leaning against the windowsill and craning her neck to see the heavens above, Constance's chest heaved with a great sigh. What she wouldn't give to be home now! - her home, where Father and Mother lived, with its little garden and the old cherry tree...The cherry tree. The thought brought tears to her eyes.

A moment later, she tapped her foot angrily and twirled away from the window. How unfair! Why did she have to do house-sitting when Bonacieux spent the entire day -and sometimes the night- outside? "It is temporary," he had said at the beginning, "until we've earned enough to hire a maid, and perhaps then I'll have an apprentice who can take care of the business while I'm out. Until then, I'm sure you'll be able to handle everything splendidly, dear."

That was just over a month ago, when she'd arrived here as the new mistress of the house. To be fair, she'd expected a daily stream of customers, listening to Bonacieux talk, whereas within the last two weeks, only three people had come to the house for the merchandise. Constance had begun to wonder if her husband was not being entirely realistic about the prospects of his business.

A knock on the door diverted her from her reverie. She smoothed her skirts and tossed her curls back as she hurried downstairs. Thank God. At least I'll hear a human voice.

The voice she heard, to her luck, was a deep, and delightfully rich.

"Mademoiselle," a well-dressed man tipped his hat at her and Constance saw a strong jaw covered with a well-combed beard, and beautiful blue eyes.

"Can I help you?" And it is 'madame'.

"This is the Bonacieux house?"

"It is?" She raised an eyebrow, surveying him from the step above.

"I am Athos - of the King's Musketeers," he said politely, "Captain Tréville's directed me here." He'd hesitated for a moment after giving his name, as if he weren't accustomed to it. He also didn't speak like a commoner at all - he was surely a nobleman. Constance blinked.

"I'm sorry - what did he direct you here for?"

The Musketeer slightly frowned. "I was given to understand Bonacieux is a cloth merchant."

Constance lifted her chin. "Yes?"

"Perhaps," he said slowly, "I could talk to Monsieur Bonacieux myself."

"My husband is out at the moment," Constance replied a little coldly, clasping her hands in a dignified manner, "I'm sure I can help, Monsieur, if you'd tell me what you need."

She saw the further narrowing of his eyes at her title, because in the full month she'd been married, not one person had addressed her as 'madame' at first meeting yet. Everyone took her to be a new maid and it was driving her crazy.

Hesitating for a few moments, Athos then assented by giving her a half-bow.

"Very well, Madame - I need material for a Musketeer uniform."

"Oh."

Finally something clicked in place. Hadn't Bonacioux said something about having made a great deal some weeks ago, something to do with the Musketeer garrison? "Yes," she said, a little excited now, "please come in!"

She stepped aside to let him pass, but Athos did not move. It took her a few moments to realize that she had pressed her back to the wall and was holding the door for him as if she were the maid. The Musketeer, perfect gentleman he obviously was, was waiting for her to precede him inside. Flustered, she turned and entered the dimly-lit hallway, her cheeks burning with embarrassment.

"Follow me, Monsieur," she instructed as if nothing had happened, and gathering her skirts, took to the stairs. She pushed the door open to the large back-room they used to store the merchandise and entered. Now... There was the blue woolen cloth for the cloaks... The uniform, though - she knew it was leather, but what colour and quality?

"Monsieur?" she called distractedly, surveying the browns and blacks with a frown, "What colour is your uniform supposed to be?"

She'd seen Musketeers only a few times before and all she could recall was their blue cloaks.

"May I?" Athos asked and walked into the room to survey the fabrics himself. Constance instinctively put a little space between herself and the Musketeer, and took the opportunity to inspect him further. There was something peculiar about this man.. Something - she didn't know what, but all of a sudden, she relaxed. It was startling, this feeling of safety in the company of a complete stranger - and Constance's curiosity piqued.

"I'm assuming you're a new Musketeer?" she ventured prettily. He nodded without diverting his gaze.

"Congratulations." It was a litte awkward as the man didn't seem particularly inclined to conversation - though why would he be, she was just the cloth merchant's wife! - but he could be the only person she talked to besides Bonacieux all day and she didn't want to pass up the chance.

"This will do well."

Athos placed a hand on the best-quality black leather. His eyes surveyed the shelves around the room next, and he moved towards the buttons without being shown to them. He picked plain round ones with the manner of a man well-accustomed to having his garments tailored to his own taste. His current attire, simple and perhaps a little worn, was nevertheless made of best quality cloth. Constance felt proud of this observation. At least she'd picked up something about the business this past month.

"Alright, take a seat while I cut these out for you."

She appraised him with a tailor's eye to assess how much fabric would be needed, and set to work. She found him on his feet, staring into the fire when she returned to the parlor with the packages in her arms.

"Here, monsieur."

"Thank you, madame. What do I owe you?"

"Oh..." She had no idea. She clasped her hands again and replied in that dignified tone, "My husband will settle it with the Captain, Monsieur." She'd completely made that up on the spot but felt a thrill of triumph when he accepted this answer without question. Packages under his arm, he put on his hat and tilted it at her again at the door.

"Madame."

"Good day."

She watched him disappear in the crowd with a sigh and closed the door.

She pouted.

If possible, the house had become even more dull.