Round 3

[bbcmusketeerskink]

Welcome to the BBC The Musketeers kink meme

The lowdown: You post your prompt, anon or not. Someone else will hopefully fill it (also anon or not). Not for profit, just for fun. And in this case, for king and country.

Anon is on, IP logging is off.

Rules:
No wank
No kink-shaming
Be respectful to everyone
The mod is not your babysitter
Use the warnings
No prompts with characters under the age of 16 in sexual situations, please.
Please keep the discussions in the prompt post to a minimum. We have a discussion post

Mandatory trigger warnings/warnings for both prompts and fills:
non-con/dub-con
abuse (physical and mental)
issues such as racism, sexism, homo-/trans-/-bi-/ace-phobia etc
character death
suicide
self-harm
eating disorders
extreme physical or mental illness
substance abuse (alcohol, drugs, medication)
bullying
gore and horror

If this list misses anything, do let me know, though please understand that if absolutely everything is added this list will never end.

You are encouraged and advised to add additional warnings at your own discretion.

Please make use of the subject line.

If your prompt alludes to the book or any of the other adaptations, please let us know which one.

Lastly, prompt freezes (which I have to say I’m really not fond of) etc will be at the mod’s discretion. I will decide on a prompt cut-off point for prompt posts once I know how fast the meme moves.

Announcement: A blanket spoiler warning is necessary for prompts pertaining to season 2. Just season 2 Spoilers in the subject line will do.

Archive:
https://delicious.com/bbcmusketeers

Discussion post:
http://bbcmusketeerskink.dreamwidth.org/557.html

Official fill post (I strongly suggest you use it for better visibility of your fills):
http://bbcmusketeerskink.dreamwidth.org/418.html

Mod contact post
http://bbcmusketeerskink.dreamwidth.org/1356.html

Free For All Round 1
http://bbcmusketeerskink.dreamwidth.org/1823.html

Comments

Odd/Unusual pairs of characters stuck together...

[(Anonymous)]

...and forced to pass the time. Talking, working their situation out together, waiting for rescue, explaining or arguing about their unique world views/ideals/friendships/life choices/whatever. Literally tied together, stuck in a hole together, locked in a cell together, trapped in a cave-in... you get the idea. Characters that might not otherwise have one-on-one intimate conversations, or that might not normally speak to each other at all.

Suggestions: Porthos and Queen Anne. Aramis and King Louis. Jaques the stable boy and the Cardinal. Athos and Queen Anne. Constance and the Duchess of Savoy... etc.

Re: Odd/Unusual pairs of characters stuck together...

[(Anonymous)]

Flea and King Louis?

:)

OP Re: Odd/Unusual pairs of characters stuck together...

[(Anonymous)]

Another good one. I'd totally read it if someone wrote it. Though I guess it isn't canon that Flea became the queen of the court of miracles, it is kinda my head canon, so it'd be fun to see the King and "queen" stuck in a situation together.

FILL: Unusual Companions (Gen; Richelieu, Jacques the stable boy)

[ponygirl72]

Flash fic; unbeta'd and no doubt riddled with errors.

Unusual Companions

"You're young to be a Musketeer, are you not?" asked the Cardinal.

The lad shackled to the wall next to him directed his mumbled reply to his own boots. "I'm only the stable boy, Your Grace. The errand boy was already out, so Captain Treville sent me with the message for you."

"Ah. Well, I suppose that explains why we were captured so easily. Still, were you not with the party that returned from the convent with Her Majesty a few weeks ago?"

"Yeah," said the boy. "I mean, yes, Your Grace. But only 'cause the real musketeers were all out with the King. Me and Serge and On-Eyed Florian was only pretending. The Captain said no one would notice the difference."

Richelieu barely managed to suppress a snort. There was an opening there large enough to drive the King's entire retinue through, but to pick it up would be unworthy in the circumstances. Indeed, the youth was pale with fear and visibly trembling in his chains.

"What is your name, boy?" he asked instead.

"Jacques, Your Grace."

"Well, Jacques, I would imagine my red guards will be along shortly to kill or capture these foolish brigands and free us," he said, sliding down the wall to the filthy floor so he could extend his right leg toward the lad. "In the mean time, can you reach my leg?"

Young Jacques threw him a very odd look-- the first time the boy had looked directly at him, in fact-- but sat down and stretched toward him just the same.

"Just about, Your Grace."

"There's a small dagger in a loop inside the top of my boot. Take it," he said firmly.

The boy's eyes darted up to meet his again. "But, shouldn't you keep it for yourself, sir?"

"I have other weapons," Richelieu lied. "Take it. Hide it in your sleeve."

Jacques eased the dagger free with the tips of his shaking fingers, and Richelieu had to consciously stop himself from holding his breath until it was safely stowed in the boy's loose clothing.

"There," he said. "Now we are better prepared in case our captors visit us before my men do, and there is nothing left but to pass the time until something happens." Richelieu studied the boy carefully. While he was struggling manfully to hide his fear, it was clear he was still completely out of his depth in the situation. "So, tell me, Jacques the Stable Boy, how came you to the musketeers' regiment?"

Richelieu listened with half an ear as Jacques explained in halting sentences that his father had been in the same company as Treville when they were both young men, and how he had petitioned Treville to employ his youngest son in some manner. He made noises of attention at appropriate intervals, otherwise letting the boy's word ramble where they would, since it seemed to help calm him.

Meanwhile, he kept most of his focus on the noises from elsewhere in the building, and after twenty minutes or so, he was rewarded with sounds of fighting from the main level above them.

"Jacques," he interrupted, "the red guards are here. From now on, you must obey my orders without question or hesitation. Do you understand?"

The lad's face paled alarmingly, but he murmured, "Yes, Your Grace."

"Very good," Richelieu said. "With luck, my men will reach us first, but in case they don't--"

He was cut off by clattering footsteps and the crash of the door to their cell being thrown open. A wild-eyed brigand staggered in, pistol in hand and ring of keys in the other.

"You're both coming with me," said the man. "If you try anything, I'll shoot you."

"I have a better idea," Richelieu said. "Lay down your weapons, and my men won't kill you."

The man swept the handle of the pistol in a vicious arc, catching Richelieu across the cheekbone and snapping his head to the side. Jacques made a noise of fear or protest as pain bloomed across Richelieu's face, and it took all his willpower to subsume any reaction and straighten, meeting the brigand's eyes unconcernedly.

"You shut up, unless you want a new hole through your head!" snapped the criminal. "You're my ticket out of here."

He unshackled the boy first, keeping the gun trained on him while he unlocked the chains holding Richelieu. Once they were both free, the man replaced the keyring on his belt and removed a wicked looking knife. He wrapped his left arm around Richelieu's shoulders from behind, pressing the knife to his throat, and gestured at the boy with the pistol held in his right hand.

"Go!" the brigand hissed. "Out the door and to the left."

Jacques looked at Richelieu with wide eyes, and he nodded, but followed it up with an intense look and a quirk of his eyebrows.

Go, but be ready.

The boy backed slowly to the door and passed through it. Richelieu waited until he felt his captor shift his balance in preparation for moving them before exploding into action, jerking back into the body behind him and trying to shove both the knife and gun away. He hissed as the blade dragged across his jerkin and bit into the the muscle joining his neck and shoulder, leaving a wet line of fire in its wake.

"Jacques, the dagger-- now!" he called, still grappling with his captor's arms.

To his credit, Jacques dove forward quick as a flash and buried the slender stiletto between the brigand's ribs. The man jerked once and became suddenly pliant, allowing Richelieu to pull free and shove him to the ground, where he curled around the hilt protruding from the side of his chest, keening. The knife and pistol slipped from his lax hands with a clatter.

Richelieu crouched cautiously and pulled the wicked little blade from the man's flesh, wiping it off before proffering it to the boy. "Well done, Jacques. Here, take it back-- you may yet need it."

Jacques had turned white as milk. "I--I don't want it, Your Grace," he said faintly.

Richelieu stowed the brigand's knife in his belt and grabbed the pistol before rising ungracefully to his feet, the pain from the gash on his shoulder making him queasy and throwing off his balance.

"That was an order, not a request," he growled, pressing the hilt into the boy's hand. The lad took it, but looked as though he might cry. Richelieu wrapped his arm around the child's shoulders, wincing as his wound pulled. Holding the pistol at the ready, he led the boy out of the cell and up the stairs toward the sound of fighting.

The red guards were just mopping up when they regained the main floor. There was a shout of recognition, and within seconds, Guillaume appeared in front of them.

"Your Eminence! You are injured. My sincerest apologies for not arriving sooner," his lieutenant said. "May I see to your wound while a surgeon is called?"

"Your arrival was timely, Guillaume, and the wound will keep for now," Richelieu said. "Please see to the boy."

"Certainly, Your Eminence. Who is he?" Guillaume enquired, giving the lad a quick once over.

"His name is Jacques, and he is the property of one Monsieur de Treville. Do see that he is returned."

"Your Grace..." Jacques said softly, and offered the dagger, hilt first, when Richelieu turned his attention to him.

Richelieu waved him off. "Keep it, boy."

Jacques looked uncertainly at him, and at the jewel-encrusted knife. "Th-thank you, sir."

"Don't thank me," Richelieu said, cradling his injured arm to control the pain radiating from his shoulder. "Perhaps if those ridiculous musketeers had armed you properly before they sent you out, this entire unpleasant business could have been avoided. Now, go. I'm sure our mutual friend Treville has stalls that need cleaning."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

The boy allowed Guillaume to lead him away, throwing a hesitant smile over his shoulder as he went. Richelieu frowned in response.

"Ridiculous child," he muttered. "Of course, given his role models..." he shook himself out of such musings, and turned to another of the guards. "Sébastien! Take three men and search the building for documents and letters. I want to know who was behind this abduction. Whoever thinks that the First Minister of France is an easy target will find themselves facing an unpleasant surprise..."

OP Re: FILL: Unusual Companions (Gen; Richelieu, Jacques the stable boy)

[(Anonymous)]

This was as wonderfully unique a situation as I hoped it would be. Thank you so much. And such a quick fill too - I need to get back in the habit of checking this meme more often. I liked the way you characterized each, particularly Richelieu, with that hardened calloused edge, touch of compassion, and touch of impatience bordering on nefarious. Cruel and kind via his mere practicality. Trusting Jaques with the knife as much as burdening him with it.

I was half expecting the soldiers coming to the rescue to be Musketeers instead of Red Guards, just for Richelieu to be annoyed at that all over, but this was wonderful.

Thanks again.

Re: FILL: Unusual Companions (Gen; Richelieu, Jacques the stable boy)

[(Anonymous)]

Really good story. liked it alot.