[personal profile] bbcmusketeerskink
So, this is, as a test, the first free-for all prompt post. The place for people to post their more extreme kink requests or any prompts that they have been made too uncomfortable to post on the regular prompt post due to the large amount of requests for trigger warnings.

I am also, as a test as well, going to copy prompts from the other prompt posts that have to be screened due to lack of warnings, but don't break the rules, into this post since no one has ever reposted a screened prompt and it was mentioned in the discussion of this idea that it might be because people were afraid to/put-off.

I, as mod, am all kinds of supportive of people who have triggers, but the meme needs to be a place for everyone and I can't just protect one side and keep the other feeling uncomfortable.

There will be no mandatory trigger warnings on this post. I cannot possibly stress this enough. This does not mean that people aren't allowed to use them if they want to, or as a courtesy, but they are not required.

So I implore you, if you have triggers, are easily triggered, please tread carefully and maybe avoid this post all together. Because there will also not be any trigger warning requests or screening for triggers on this post. If you look through it anyway, that is your own responsibility.

The rules of the other prompt posts, which are as follows, still apply.

No wank
No kink-shaming
Be respectful to everyone
As lenient as we'll be on this post, prompts containing people under the age of 16 in sexual situations will still not be accepted.
The mod is not your babysitter
Keep the discussions on the prompt post to a minimum and use the discussion post instead.

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

Fill: By Design 9/10 TW rape, pissing, violence

Date: 2014-06-06 08:26 am (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
There is much to be done before they can leave St Martin--bodies must be disposed of and buildings scrubbed clean of blood--but with a dozen Musketeers now here to help with the clear up it doesn't take long.

Once all is put to right, the nuns, reassured that they are now safe, return to look after their charges the only way they know how. At times, during his three decades on earth, Athos has felt a distinct loss of grip on reality, but his experiences here give him a new found appreciation of sanity and a definite desire to cling on to it at all costs.

When work is completed and dusk has fallen, it's finally time to return home. Treville mounts up and offers Athos a hand. He takes it gladly and comes to rest behind the captain, an arm circled loosely about his waist. There are spare horses in the grounds, but Athos is bone tired and shattered enough after today's events that he needs the comfort of human contact.

Following Aramis and Porthos along the road that leads into the heart of Paris they complete the journey in silence. Athos is lost to his thoughts and taken by surprise when they cross Pont Neuf and arrive at the livery yard so soon, hooves clattering across the cobbles as they hand the horses over to the grooms to stable.

"Not up for a night of drinking then?" says Porthos, smiling affectionately as Athos's eyes shutter with exhaustion.

"Maybe tomorrow," he replies with a weary smile. "Thank you, my friends. For everything." He's blinded by a sting of salt as Aramis and Porthos surround him once again, enfolding him into a protective huddle. The truth has apparently not put them off him as he was certain it would, but he is still ashamed of himself.

"Will you come back to my rooms?" says Treville, once the other two men have taken their leave. "You have wounds that may need tending to and we have things to discuss."

Athos shakes his head. "Not this evening, Captain. I'm suffering from no more than aches and pains and I need to let Mme Bonacieux know that I am well." Besides which something is bothering him, tugging at the back of his mind as it claws its way to the surface. If he could just get a little sleep then maybe he could make sense of things.

"Good night then," says Treville stiffly as they leave the yard, heading in different directions along the street.

Every step is a marathon and Athos is disproportionately relieved when he reaches the Bonacieux house, opening the newly mended door and entering the premises with heavy tread.

"Athos!" Constance rushes to greet him, wiping her hands on her apron. "You're well?" she asks with an appraising look.

"I'm fine and justice has been served," says Athos in as cheerful a manner as he can muster. "All I need now is a year's worth of sleep and the world will be set to right."

"Some food first?" says Constance.

"M Athos requires rest alone," says Bonacieux from his favourite fireside chair. "Did you not hear him?"

Normally the man's abrupt manner towards his wife is a matter of the utmost irritation to Athos, but tonight he is grateful for it and grabs the opportunity to slope off to bed.

A bottle or two of wine sends him into a dreamless sleep and he wakes, rested but thick-headed, still fully clothed in his uniform. The usual medicine of a bucket of cold water revives him enough to feel almost human and after a splashdown wash and a change of underthings he makes his way, with determined spirit, to that insalubrious boarding house in Rue Allent.

Treville is already seated at his desk in the outer chamber, reading through the day's orders from Cardinal Richelieu and when Athos approaches he glances up, a look of wary pleasure in his eyes. "You seem rested."

"I feel better," says Athos.

Immediately the captain gets to his feet, pushing the shutters closed as he passes by. Examining Athos's bruised cheekbone for sign of breakage he then inspects the rest of him carefully, relief evident on his face when he sees no obvious damage. With fingers threaded into his hair he draws him in until they're near enough each other to be sharing breath.

Athos wants this; the hammering of his heart tells him so, as does the steady pump of blood that causes him to fill with excitement. He wants this so much. For weeks he's thought of nothing but the feel of Treville’s body against his, flushing away all the pain and hurt and impurities that lurk inside him. So why can't he overlook this one thing?

"What is it?" asks Treville in consternation as Athos backs off; it’s just a half step, but it could be a league for all the difference it makes.

"Tell me honestly, Captain, did you sleep with Vallion?" says Athos. Is it betrayal of a different kind that fueled the man's desperate desire for vengeance?

Treville's eyes widen in shock. "No, of course I didn't,” he answers. “Although, with the benefit of hindsight, I believe he may have wanted me to." He reaches out to Athos, resting a palm on his shoulder. "Vallion was my lieutenant and, at the time, I trusted him almost as much as I trust you, but being captain of this regiment is a responsibility which I do not take lightly. I have never and thought for certain I would never take advantage of one of my men, but Athos, you are dear to me in such a way I cannot ignore my feelings."

"As you are to me," breathes Athos.

Words are words and, as lovely as they are to hear, they cannot replace actions. The gap between them is bridged with a kiss that’s hard and biting then soft and searching and alternates with such frequency that Athos grows dizzy with need. Worrying at the fastenings of Treville's damn tunic he groans in frustration, desperate to feel skin against skin.

"Bed," says Treville, slamming and locking the outer door then leading Athos through into his private chamber which is also blessed with a window that opens onto the street. Closing the shutters he undresses down to breeches and shirt, turning then to Athos and carefully undoing his doublet with fingers that tremble slightly, betraying his urgency. "Tell me what will be safe for you," he says.

The care taken with him melts away any residual fears Athos may have had. “Anything. Everything,” he says honestly.

They kiss again, tongue sliding soft against tongue in a never ending dance, and when Treville's beard begins to chafe, burning hot against his skin, it only serves to excite Athos more. Grabbing at the linen undershirt he bunches it in his hands and then slides his fingers upwards to touch the skin beneath. Gasping with need he licks kisses onto Treville's neck and along his collarbone, biting softly into the muscled shoulder until this causes a roar of excitement and he is swiftly rolled onto his back.

"I'm sorry," says Treville, his voice wound tight from want, his fingers wandering restlessly over the buttons of Athos's breeches.

"Don't be." Athos looks up at him, vulnerable and open. "I trust you."

Hitching in a breath Treville undresses Athos fully until he is spread naked on the narrow bed. Carefully he kisses each bruise, running the tip of his tongue around the abraded skin and tracking lower until he licks a wet path along Athos's hipbone, coming to rest a fraction of an inch away from Athos's cock which is slick with pleasure.

"Can I put my mouth on you?" Treville asks, once again handing over control.

Athos arches up from the bed, flooded with ever increasing desire. "Please," he begs, his body a hot mess of need. He'll not last, not like this. Not when Treville takes him between his lips and sucks him with such intensity. "I can't," he moans helplessly, his fingers biting deep into Treville's skin. "I can't."

Treville looks up for a moment, his eyes dark and clouded with lust. "Let it go," he says. "We've all the time in the world." He dips down again, fastening his mouth and fingers around Athos's cock then licking, stroking, sucking him until he's crying out and coming with something close to a sob. It's been so long.

Athos is falling, never hitting the ground, floating on a cloud of blissed out happiness. When finally he regains his senses and remembers he's not alone he turns to Treville and undresses him, lavishing each newly exposed part with the attention it's due. Face to face they lie together, Athos's hand gripped around Treville's cock, watching every change of expression as the man grows ever closer to orgasm.

Biting into his lower lip Treville's eyes widen and, gasping out his need, he spends hot over Athos's fingers and his own belly. "I've truly taken advantage of you now," he says, pulling a face as Athos wipes away the mess using the sheets as a cloth. "A line has been crossed."

"I'm hoping it’ll be crossed many times over," says Athos, licking his way along Treville's jaw until he reaches his lips where he dives in for a kiss. It's strange tasting himself on Treville's tongue, unusual rather than unpleasant, and the flavour ignites a fire in him. He hopes they'll have enough time this morning for more exploration as he has a fancy to suck Treville off until he comes in his mouth.

"What are you thinking about?" asks Treville, chucking him under the chin with a crooked finger. "Not brooding I hope?"

"Actually I’m wondering what you taste like," says Athos with a grin and it feels awkward on his face, overstretched and underused.

"I haven't seen that smile before," says Treville, reaching out to trace the curved outline of his lips with the tip of a finger. "It's lovely." He kisses Athos again and again then folds him into his arms and kisses him some more.

"Enough or everyone in the regiment will know what we've been up to from the stubble burn alone." Athos smirks then rests his head on Treville's shoulder, finally comfortable enough to voice that innermost fear which has been plaguing him relentlessly. "Do you see me as anything less than I was?"

"No." Treville's fingers glide possessively over Athos's belly. "As something much more, if that's at all possible."

"Because of what happened, I mean."

Treville sighs. "Because of what happened when precisely? In bed just now? At St Martin?"

"You know when." Athos feels no different from that sullen youth who'd forever been a disappointment to his parents. If they were alive today they’d be more disappointed than ever to discover that he’s just bedded a man.

"Athos, if I could turn back the clock and stop that day from happening I would, but as that's impossible all you can do is learn to live with it." Treville brushes the hair away from Athos's forehead. "Please believe me when I say that no one will ever judge you over such a matter."

"Aramis and Porthos know," continues Athos in a monotone, reality and its consequences striking him hard from out of the blue.

"They always did," says Treville gently. "A part of the story at least. You can't hope to hide something so dreadful from those that love you. You can only pretend to yourself that it’s hidden." He brushes his mouth softly over Athos's lips. "Just be prepared for us to look after you a little more than we would have done in the past. For a while at least."

"I'm not certain I like that idea," says Athos, his mood brightening in contrast to his words.

"You'll cope." Curving up against him Treville closes his eyes, fast asleep within minutes, and Athos soon follows him there, as content as he could ever hope to be with his current lot in life.

From: (Anonymous)

*emits high pitched noise only audible to dogs and bats*

That is so gorgeous!!!!!!!!!

I absolutely adore these two together, and you've written them so perfectly.

I love Treville's tenderness, Athos' burning need, and the fact that the other boys knew all along.

But oh god, only one more part! But then I'll promptly re-read right from the start again.

*happy sigh*
From: (Anonymous)
Thank you. ::massive hugs::

It is finally done and contains every shameless h/c trope ever invented. (So many that it wouldn't fit into one comment box.) God I enjoyed it.

From: (Anonymous)
That evening he meets up with Porthos and Aramis for a night’s drinking at the alehouse. It’s good to be with them, a comfort as always, and as he watches Porthos play a fifth ace from up his sleeve he leans over his shoulder, lips close to the man’s ear. “Don’t think I’ll defend you if they catch you out,” he murmurs.

“Of course you will.” Porthos grins then angles his head back and plants a kiss on Athos’s cheek.

A tinge of a flush warms his face, the knowledge that he’s worthy to be their friend reinforced once again. Of course he would defend Porthos, with his life if necessary. As he would Aramis and Treville.

Aramis approaches, a little worse for wear, and sits next to Athos, the legs of the chair skidding across the flagstone floor. “Is he causing trouble?” he says in an undertone.

“Does that really warrant an answer?” Athos smirks, or perhaps he grins. Whatever happens his elbows slide on the table and he crumples into a heap.

Aramis rights him then collapses forward himself until their foreheads touch. "Am I going to have to carry you home?" he says with a slur to his words.

"Am I you?" replies Athos. He's muzzy headed and content from wine, good company and love for all men. Three men. One in particular

"Porthos," calls Aramis loudly, although he is no more than a foot away from them at the gaming table. "You'll have to carry us home."

"Nothing new there then." Porthos looks around at the drunken pair and then stands up. "It's been a pleasure, gentlemen," he says to his fellow card players and from the disgruntled look on their faces Athos has a feeling that it isn't mutual.

They wend their way homeward with Porthos in between them acting as a central prop. It's the same as it's always been, with one exception; Treville is now lurking at the door of Athos’s lodgings, waiting to see him safely to bed.

As they're about to part for the night Aramis collides against Athos with a bump, arms winding about his neck. "The captain is a good man. And a lucky one."

For the second time that night Athos receives a solid kiss on the cheek, nothing courtly or elegant, just an honest show of affection. He's the lucky one, in so many ways. More wealthy now than he ever had been in his previous life.

"He's been into his cups, Sir," says Porthos, a hint of guilt to his words.

"No more than I expected," says Treville with a resigned smile. "You get Aramis home; I'll take care of this idiot."

They climb the stairs in stumbling fashion and, once in his room, Athos undresses to his small clothes and flops back on the bed. "Fuck me," he says to all three of the captains as the world begins to spin.

"Hush," says Treville with a finger to his lips.

Athos nods gravely. Sodomy is a capital offence after all. "Sleep with me then," he says, his arms outstretched and, having stripped himself of weapons, boots and tunic, Treville obliges.


Mme Bonacieux is not best pleased when Athos informs her that he's taken new lodgings. In fact she's downright furious, her hands on her hips, elbows jutting angrily as she glares at him from across the kitchen. "I thought you were happy here?"

"I am, Constance. You've been a blessing to me." Athos approaches, soothing her with a kiss to the top of her head as he takes her hands in his. "But you worry too much about my welfare and that's no good for either of us."

"I'll only fret more when I don't know what trouble you're getting yourself into."

"Not true at all. Once I'm gone you can rest easy." Athos will miss her dreadfully but this must be done. "We'll be better friends than ever, I promise, and I'll continue to pay board until you find another lodger to fuss over."

"It's not about the money," she says, her pretty face drawn into a frown.

"But it will help," teases Athos, squeezing her hands a final time then releasing her from his hold.

"It will a little," she admits with a laugh. "Now be off with you, you rotten man and tell that captain of yours to look after you well or he'll have me to answer to."

The rooms in Rue Fèrou are more private than Treville's, being on the first floor of the house, but are small and austere with little of worth to furnish them.

"Damn this ridiculous sized bed," grumbles Treville, tossing and turning in the summer heat. "Couldn't you have found somewhere more pleasant to rent?"

"On a Musketeer's income?" Athos quirks an eyebrow. "I think not."

The captain's lodgings continue to be the most unsuitable place in which to conduct an illicit love affair, the two of them forever being interrupted in the throes of passion by a visit from Musketeers or a summons from King or Cardinal. The garrison rebuild is now finished, but the one attempt they had at a secret tryst in Treville's quarters proved to be so fraught with danger--the rowdy sounds of the barracks echoing up from below--that neither of them would dare try anything more than a few kisses and a hurried fumble against the wall.

"May I steal you away from Paris for a day or two?" asks Athos. Treville is right: the bed is too small, the heat is unbearable and the stench of the city is foul to say the least. Athos longs for somewhere cool and quiet to rest his head and knows this is the best chance they have to escape with the King and Queen away in Austria and the Cardinal tied up with Papal business. "You could declare it block leave?" he suggests hopefully.

"It's a possibility," says Treville and as Athos moves down in the bed kissing a languid, wet trail over his body he sighs with delight. "I'll do it. I'll write the order."

Athos takes Treville's cock into his mouth as reward for both of them, swirling his tongue around the crown then suckling at him with delight. He would do this always, be on his knees before his captain, honouring him with every lick, every suck, every press of his lips. His own cock in hand he strokes himself with a tight fist, bringing Treville off first, swallowing him by the mouthful, then kneeling up, his body arched gracefully as he works himself to a slow climax and comes in arcing streaks across Treville's belly.

"I love watching you do that," says Treville, falling spent on the bed with Athos sticky in his arms. "It's damn near as good as my own pleasure." He kisses him on the forehead and smiles. "Where do you plan on taking me?"

Loaded with intent it might be, but the question is a real one. "I know of somewhere not far from Paris," says Athos, although he is not certain what effect it will have on him when he returns home for the first time in two years.


Workers on the estate watch with curious eyes as the two men ride between the rows of cottages, a hiss of intrigued whispers drifting from person to person, an accompaniment as they pass by. "It must be him. It is him."

The large stone building is at one with its surroundings, weather beaten into a soft shade of beige that blends in with the unkempt gardens. It's unloved and has lain unwanted for a long time, but now offers them a refuge from the dreaded heat, provided Athos can exorcise the ghosts of his past.

He comes here now as a different man: a new name, a new position in life and with a new lover in whom he has complete faith. Anne was never someone to rely on; he loved her only for her wildness and her dangerous spirit. She filled him with a lust for life that had always been lacking and for that he can thank her--gone though she might be--for that urgency is still strong within him.

"Yours?" asks Treville, as they dismount and tether their horses.

"Mine indeed," replies Athos, opening the doors and stepping back in time.

"You have a story to tell, my lad." Treville removes the dust sheets from furniture and opens the shutters.

"Don't we all?"

Acknowledging this with a subtle nod of the head Treville opens a set of doors and surveys the hallway. "This place is vast."

"I hope the beds will prove big enough for you also."

His days here may have ended in misery, but Athos is finally a happy man and his love for Treville overrides any other emotion. They approach each other, weariness from the day's ride forgotten, and things are beginning to heat up between them when they're disturbed by a knock.

"Confound it," snaps Athos and he opens the door to see one of his former kitchen maids carrying a basket packed to the brim with produce.

"I thought you might be in need of some food, Sir," she says, dipping in respect and handing over the goods.

"Thank you, Marie. That's very kind of you indeed." Athos is moved that she thinks of him so well after years away. He takes the basket gratefully; neither he nor Treville had considered such simple necessities so keen were they to escape the foulness of Paris.

"You've looked after us, Sir. It's the least we can do." She bobs her head and leaves them alone once more.,

"We have food," says Athos, closing the door and turning to face Treville.

"I have baser needs at present," says the captain, taking the basket from Athos's hands and placing it on the dresser. Cupping Athos's face with gloved hands he surges forward and kisses the living daylights out of him until he is breathless and aching.

"The things you do to me," Athos gasps, coming up for air.

"The things I will do to you when finally you show me to this big bed of yours," growls Treville, peppering his face and neck with rough kisses.

Athos leads the captain to his bedroom, opening the shutters and letting light into a space that hasn't seen any for a long time. With neither worry nor sadness in mind he turns to Treville, stripping away his weaponry and garments until the man is naked, his erection jutting proudly.

"Now to you," says Treville, running his hands lasciviously over Athos's leather clad body.

Escaping him with a smile that's full of intent Athos throws aside his own weapons and drops to his knees. "I'll suck you first," he says, his mouth already fastened around Treville's cock by the time the last syllable is spoken.

Treville wrestles him up and over to the bed. "I'll have you first," he says, his eyes burning with desire as he pushes Athos down and strips him of his clothing.

Athos stutters in an excited breath. He adores Treville when he's in this mood, hot blooded and lusty. He also needs more than anything to be had by him. "There's lamp oil here," he says, knowing that this is something Porthos and Aramis make use of to ease the way.

Treville takes Athos in his arms and kisses him soundly. "Is this something you want?" he asks carefully.

"It is. Very much indeed," replies Athos, reaching over and uncorking the jug of oil then pouring a little into Treville’s cupped palm and some in his own. Lying face to face he takes Treville's cock in one oiled hand and his own in the other and the feel of that slickness skidding over matching columns of engorged flesh is almost too much to bear.

Treville slides an arm around him, encouraging him to lift his thigh and he does as he's bid, hitching in a breath at the sensation of a finger touching him. It's strange, nice perhaps, but when he closes his eyes in order to fully experience the feeling the fear is back, stabbing him with such an intensity he feels sick. Opening his eyes immediately he concentrates on Treville, knowing that it is him and only him who is touching him in that most private place.

"Good?" asks Treville as his finger probes further and then reaches somewhere inside that is all manner of pleasures rolled into one. His expression must give the truth away as Treville smiles and kisses him on the lips. "Bedding another man is a different kind of delight."

Another finger pushes its way in and Athos rocks against the tips, panting now as he seeks out that moment of not quite orgasm over and over again. Bereft when Treville withdraws from him, he keens with need as Treville pulls him to hands and knees and settles behind him, crooning words of-

Beaten bloody they turn him, throw him down and fuck him: fist, pistol, cock, knife.

"There's my lad."

No, not again. "Please. Don't. Please."

"Look at me, Athos."

Once again he is safely back in Treville's arms.

"Open your eyes. Look at me, please."

Athos does so, staring into a face that's full of sorrow where there should be none.

"I'll never hurt you."

"I know." Athos heaves out that panic stricken breath he's been holding on to and keeps his eyes firmly fixed on Treville. "I know; I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

"It's my fault. It's too soon. I shouldn't even-"

Athos shushes him quiet. "I want you; I need to see you is all."

It takes a long while of kissing, talking, touching--all of these things accompanied by deep pulls on a bottle of claret that Athos has fetched from the cellar--but eventually they relax enough to be hard for each other again. "I will have you in me," says Athos as he lies on top of Treville, braced on an arm as they thrust together, cocks sliding slick on a passage of oil and precome.

"I'll fuck you when you're ready for me and not a moment before." Treville pushes up from the mattress and Athos writhes helplessly against him.

"I need you in me," he says halfway to drunk as he feeds Treville sips of wine from the bottle. "I need you to touch that place in me. I don't even know- What is that place?"

"It's good is all anyone needs to know," says Treville bluntly.

Athos kneels up fully, straddling Treville's hips, his legs braced either side, and taking Treville's cock in his hand he squirms back and down until the tip is caressing his hole.

Treville's eyes widen, his emotions a mess: fear, desire, love all mixed up together and written clear on his face. "Damn it, Athos, I won't have you torture yourself this way."

"Let me try. Please." He needs something good inside him to transcend all of that ugly horror.

Perhaps Treville understands, at very least he nods and Athos sinks down an inch, tensing up then relaxing as he grows accustomed to being filled.

"Dear god!" Treville continues on in an endless litany as Athos rears above him, taking him deeper and deeper into his body.

A shunt of the hips has Athos crying out in pleasure as he jostles from side to side, his nerves jangling and singing out at the exquisite feel. He hardens to it, the thrumming heat of blood driving him on as he rides Treville's cock.

"Keep your eyes on me," his captain commands and Athos does as ordered, gazing intently as Treville reaches out to catch hold of his hand, wetting the palm with open mouthed kisses. "Touch yourself."

Again he follows orders, his cock so engorged now that it's a painful pleasure as he strokes it in time with the fuck. Treville's eyes dart over him hungrily, watching every movement, and as he bucks up hard, slamming deep inside Athos, he cries out in a voice thickened with desire and Athos can feel that flood of wet heat inside him.

This could invoke his demons if he were to let them take over, but he is safe in the knowledge that there is only goodness and love and care to be found here. Instead of allowing the fear to haunt him he arches up proud, fist flying over his cock as he hits that teetering head rush and then comes, painting Treville in streaks of white, just the way he likes it.

"My dearest man," says Treville, pulling Athos into his arms.

Athos doubts he has ever been anyone else's dearest anything, but, as before, he hears and believes what Treville has said and wonders how three small words can manufacture such a great amount of sentiment within him.


From: (Anonymous)
They spend their leave days as every soldier does: drinking, fucking, eating and sleeping, pastimes that can never be beaten.

"I had a wife when I lived here," says Athos as they dine alfresco on their second evening, lying together beneath the branches of a willow with the stream running past them to cool the air. "She was a liar and I was a dupe. I thought I loved her with all my heart and that the love was reciprocated on her part, but it turns out she was a common criminal. She murdered my brother Thomas when he found out and I had her hanged."

"That's terrible," says Treville and he sounds as shocked as Athos expected. It's not a pretty tale.

He's lying on his back with his head on Treville's chest and as the story is told he rolls to one side, face pressed into Treville’s neck. "That's why I left here and joined the regiment."

Treville turns his head to drop a kiss to the top of Athos's head. "It must have been near impossible to walk away."

"It was the easiest thing I've ever done," Athos confesses. It's the simple truth. He never wished to be Comte; the servants made him uncomfortable as a child and he didn’t look forward to a life spent in and out of court.

Coming home, however, has been a release. Once upon a time he carried the guilt over Anne's death with him everywhere he went, quite literally in the form of a locket she had given him. The chain is gone, stolen by one of Vallion's men most likely, and he has not missed its weight about his neck. Being back at La Fère has finally proved to him that his hasty decision to execute his wife, if not the right thing to do, was made for all the right reasons. She is gone and he is free of her at last.

Treville has his own confession to make. "I wish we could stay here,” he says. “One more night is not enough."

"You'd hate it," laughs Athos. "Making nice with the King and the nearby nobility is a bore; you know that."

"I'd run the estate as a gentleman farmer," says Treville with a look of utter contentment about his face. "Good, honest, Gascon work."

"We'll do that when we're old and grey and unfit for soldiering," says Athos, his hand wandering beneath the coarse linen of Treville's shirt. "In the meantime we'll come here as often as we can and fuck our way through every room in the house."

Treville smiles and twists a strand of Athos’s hair around his finger until it falls into ringlet. "Comte you might be as far as the charters dictate, but to me you're a delightfully dirty young man who I intend to have right now."

"As an entrée," drawls Athos as he fastens his mouth over Trevillle’s nipple, flicking the engorged nub with his tongue and then biting softly until Treville grabs him and rolls him over onto his back.

The world around them dissolves into loving kisses and, curtained from sight by the drapery of the willow tree, the two men make the most of their final evening at La Fère.

From: (Anonymous)
Lovely ending!!

I so amazingly happy you picked up my prompt. This has absolutely surpassed any hopes I had when I put the prompt up.

It's been stellar hurt/comfort for my favourite pair of boys and I really appreciate all the effort you've put into this fabulous fic!

*huge hugs* thank you so much for this!

You've made me a very happy hound!
From: (Anonymous)
Thank you and I sincerely mean that. Before Musketeers I'd hardly written a word for maybe three years and now, thanks to the wonderful show and meeting you lovely people, I'm a fan girl again with a teenage crush and a hobby I adore.

If you have any other prompts please throw them my way. :D

From: (Anonymous)
Oh wow, that was seriously hot!

Treville is definitely the sort of lover Athos needs, someone who understands him and can cope with his issues.

And I love the way you had Porthos and Aramis show that they think no less of him for what's happened.

I can hardly believe this is nearly over, but I'm off to read the epilogue now....
From: (Anonymous)
Thank for your immense support along the way. I can't tell you how much I appreciated it. ::smishes::


From: (Anonymous)
*smishes back*

I'm just so incredibly lucky you picked up this prompt and ran with it! I couldn't have wished for better.



December 2015

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