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.

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The mod is not your babysitter
Use the warnings
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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
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http://bbcmusketeerskink.dreamwidth.org/557.html

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http://bbcmusketeerskink.dreamwidth.org/418.html

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http://bbcmusketeerskink.dreamwidth.org/1356.html

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

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

That's pretty much it. I just have this image of Porthos rambling with a fever while Athos and Aramis sit vigil and take care of him. Someone to please put eloquent words to this image and turn it into something of a story?

I love this!

It was funny really, in hindsight, with this all behind them. It had started as a simple cold. A simple escort mission in the pouring spring rain that left Photos sneezing and shivering, arguing that he was fine while fighting off the beginnings of a headache. But he did follow Aramis's advise to head to bed early, and was snoring heavily in their shared room when the marksman himself retired only an hour or so later.

"Aramis." His name being called, or rather whispered followed by the touch on his arm caused Aramis to sit upright, grasping for the pistol by his bed. Being woken up by a sober-sounding Athos was never a good sign... "None of that." Aramis paused, actually taking in his surroundings. Athos was watching him closely, but did not appear to be armed himself, although looked somehow more sober then he had when Aramis had left him by the fire. His eyes flickered over to Porthos's bed..

"Damn." He whispered, getting out of bed and over to where his friend was tossing and turning in an uneasy sleep. Aramis placed a gentle hand on Porthos's cheek, frowning at the heat positively radiating off his larger companion. "Fever." he muttered as Athos walked up to them.

"I was afraid of that." The older man sighed. "What do you need?"

"Cold water." Aramis answered without looking up, checking Phortos's pulse. "We'll have to make sure the fever doesn't rise." Athos nodded and left without another word.

Aramis swiftly gathered up the rest of their blankets, including the ones in his and Athos's bed - they would not be sleeping tonight - and spread them over Photos. Moving to put some more logs on the dying fire, he paused when Photos made a soft almost whining noise.

"Hush my friend, all is well.." He began, kneeling down by the bed.

"Ch.. Charon..?" Photos did not open his eyes, but before Aramis could answer, he heard the door shut behind Athos.

"Is he awake?" The older musketeer asked, placing a bucket next to Aramis, together with some apperantly clean rags.

"No, but talking regardless." Athos nodded and went to build the up the fire.

"Charon?" A hand escaped the blankets, fumbling for something, or someone. Aramis caught it gently.

"I'm sorry my friend. It's just Aramis." He said, pressing the fevrish man's hand.

"A-Ara..?"

"I'm right here.. Me and Athos's both, yhea?" Aramis smiled, glancing at Athos who pulled up two chairs to the bed. "You're going to be just fine.."

"Who's Charon?" Athos mumbled. Aramis shrugged.

"No one in the regiment."

"Aramis?" Their attention immidiatly returned to
Porthos.

"Still right here."

"Don't.. Don't leave.. Aramis.." Aramis frowned.

"I'm not going anywhere Porthos, I promise.." He began, but the larger man cut him off.

"You can't.. go.. Aramis.. you won't.." A half-choked sob escaped Porthos and his grip on Aramis's hand became vice-like. "Please don't go.."

"Don't go where?" Aramis asked. "Where shouldn't I go Porthos?" His fingers felt like they were being crushed, but it didn't matter right now.

"Savoy.." Aramis froze, unable to answer.

Thank God for Athos.

"Nobody is going to Savoy Porthos." He said firmly, his hands closing over Aramis's and Porthos's own. "Nobody is going anywhere." His gaze shifted from their feverish friend to Aramis, who shook himself and nodded.

"Right, we're not going anywhere." Phortos didn't let go of his hand, but finally quieted down.

His breathing was harsh in the sudden silence.

"Are you alright?" Athos finally asked, leaning back in his chair. Aramis nodded again and moved up in his own chair.

"I'm.. fine. I just.. I did not realise how much it must have affected.." The marksman mumbled, busying his free hand with dipping one of the rags in the water, only to pause awkwardly as he realised that he could not wring it out with one hand still in Phortos's.

"I don't blame you." Athos said calmly, taking the rag and wringing it out before handing it back. "You were rather occupied at the time." Aramis gave him a shaky smile, acceping he rag and gently dabbing Porthos's face with it."

It continued like that for a few hours. Athos tending the fire and every now and then handing Aramis a new rag. Aramis dabbing Porthos's face, checking his pulse and fever and whispering soothing Spanish lullabies whenever the,large musketeer would start shifting again.

Every now and then a phrase would escape him, or a name that the other two didn't recognise.

"Stop." The word was pleading, but Aramis froze as if Treville had yelled an order.

"Porthos?" He asked gently, but the other didn't appear to hear him.

"Stop. 'thos.. stop." Aramis glanced at Athos who only shook his head slightly.

"What should he stop?" Aramis asked, running his thumb in soft circles on the back of Porthos's hand.

"j'st stop... Athos.."

"I'm right here." Athos answered, his voice shaking slightly. "What should I stop?"

"Athos.. stop.. please." There were tears in the corners of Porthos's eyes, and he was growing more agitated. "Can't watch.." Suddenly it made sense. Athos's eyes flew over to the abandoned bottle by his bed, and recalled a half forgotten memory from month's ago.

"Why do you keep doing this to yourself?" Porthos sighed as he was once again forced to half carry a drunk Athos back to the garrison. "I understand wanting a drink every now and then, but this... this needs to stop." He continued, more to himself than Athos. "I've seen to many drink themselves to death.. I can't watch you do it too.."

"..Athos? Athos!" Aramis's voice snapped him out of his thoughts. He turned towards them again. Aramis was struggling to keep Porthos down, the other man trashing violently against his hold.

Athos rose up, used his weight to press Porthos down by his shoulders, wincing slightly when the other man used his free hand to grip Athos's arm so hard there was sure to be a bruise.

"Athos..?" The whimper that escaped the larger man was enough to bring tears to Athos's own eyes and he leaned their foreheads together.

"I'm here. I'm sorry.." He whispered, just loud enough to be heard over their ragged breathing. "I'm sorry.. I promise.. I promise you won't have to watch.." He let out a shuddering breath when he felt Aramis's hand on his back. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright." Aramis smiled softly. "He knows." Athos swallowed, but slowly straightened up, even though he was reluctant to reluinqis body-contact. Aramis pressed his shoulder in silent comfort, and they closed their eyes for a moment.

"His fever has broken." Aramis announced with a sile a while later, leaning back in his chair with a tired laugh, pulling a hand through his thick black hair. Athos smiled, feeling his own exhaustion like a heavy blanket. He glanced out the window. The first greyness of dawn spread over the sky.

The night was finally over.

(Rushed ending is rushed.

Whoa, first Musketeerfic written... I hope you like it op!)

I love it. Thank you so much. I especially didn't expect a fill so quickly and this was just spot on. Porthos mumbling about Charon and being so out of it while Athos and Aramis worried. Absolutely what I was looking for.

Really enjoyed the story - hit the spot. :)

Loved this. Thank you!

Ah, good story. :)

I love this!

You might want to go through and fix all the spellings of Porthos' name, though.

Round 3

Feverish Porthos

Re: Feverish Porthos

Fever-dreams (Gen. mentions of alcoholism and Savoy)

OP Re: Fever-dreams (Gen. mentions of alcoholism and Savoy)

Re: Fever-dreams (Gen. mentions of alcoholism and Savoy)

Re: Fever-dreams (Gen. mentions of alcoholism and Savoy)

Re: Fever-dreams (Gen. mentions of alcoholism and Savoy)

Re: Fever-dreams (Gen. mentions of alcoholism and Savoy)