bbcmusketeerskink

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round 3

Round 3

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
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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.

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

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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

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Yep, already made a mistake in posting- 2 came first, then 1 and now 3.

Sorry.

It was a weary disillusioned d'Artagnan that was told to return to Paris to report to Captain Treville after four months.
Yount wrapped his forearm, the most recent cut. "You'll be missed."
d'Artagnan gave a small grin of disbelief. "You won't miss trouble." He had tried to protect these men, thankful when he had been sent on missions by himself. They were waiting and happy that he had returned each time. d'Artagnan thought he survived to spite the King.
The orders were surprising with a request to make it back in short time with a message delivery. d'Artagnan could envision the hand of the King or Rochefort in the orders. Rumors had come from Paris that he would confirm when he was in Paris.
d'Artagnan pushed his horse in order to make the delivery point in Blois. The tavern where his contact was to be made was in a rundown section of the town. His entry was noticed, but he kept himself with a glass of wine.
When the three men approached his table he tried to discourage them by ignoring them. Their leader rested his hand on the table. "You have something we want."
"Manners to start," d'Artagnan quipped.
Hands grabbed him so for a moment he did not resist. In between heartbeats he acted with a well-placed elbow, then slamming one of the attackers to the table giving him space to draw his sword to dispatch the other two. The other patrons looked ready to turn against him, but another man appeared by his side with a sword in one hand and a pistol in the other.
"We are leaving."
They backed out of the tavern to the street, then a safe distance away. "You have a message for me; I believe in exchange for the one I am to give you?"
d'Artagnan raised his brow at the Spanish accent as he handed over the sealed note. The man with the scar on his cheek with a pocked faced was the description he was given.
The agent bowed. "We were to be sacrificed, my friend."
The Gascon thought the best course of action was not to confirm. "Good luck to you, Sir."

Reward 4/?

When he arrived at the garrison it was with little fanfare. Jacques, the stable boy, tended to his horse with a bowed head, small smile and soft, "Hello."
Although all d'Artagnan wanted to do was to take his saddlebags to his room to rest, he climbed the stairs to make his report to Treville.
The rap on the door was answered with a curt, "Enter."
"d'Artagnan, welcome back. Please sit down for a moment." The Captain pulled a bottle and glasses from a draw and filled them with the amber port, passing one to the younger man. "Are you well?"
"I survived, much to the King and Rochefort's chagrin." The musketeer leader had once said Louis had a good heart, but d'Artagnan struggled to find evidence of that nature.
Treville did not reply out of loyalty. "The others were expecting you tomorrow. Rochefort requested you pick up the message. Were there any issues?"
The younger man took a gulp of the port, enjoying its vivaciousness where for months now he did not taste or feel much. "Of course. They were dealt with." He pulled the tied up note from his doublet.
The captain finished his port. "We should deliver it to the palace in all haste, and the King will want to see the success of your time in La Rochelle."
d'Artagnan rubbed a hand over his mouth, feeling the grime of his travels. "Very well."
"Aramis and Athos have duty there." Treville allowed a small grin. In studying the man, there was more of a slump of weariness about him that hadn't been there four months ago.
"What about Porthos?" There was always the three of them mentioned together.
Treville cocked his head. "Instrumental in having you returned to us." The captain put his hand up to curtail further conversation. "Later."
The opulence of the palace had d'Artagnan momentarily squinting in its brilliance. He took it all in as he walked to the throne room where the King would grant them an audience.
The Gascon bowed as Louis entered with no fanfare as this was a private meeting, the Queen following one step behind and Rochefort materializing seemingly from nowhere.
"Sire, d'Artagnan has the message." The young musketeer took the sealed note from his doublet, passed it to Treville who set it in Rochefort's waiting hands.
The King studied the younger musketeer with d'Artagnan meeting his gaze. He had survived. "La Rochelle has agreed with you as I thought it would. I am sure you will add your experience to the Musketeers. It is very much in need."
Agreed with him? When last he saw his appearance it was road weary and unkempt, perhaps this was why Treville wanted to see the King directly instead of giving the Gascon time to wash. "I used what I learned as a Musketeer, Sire. It was that training which kept me alive." d'Artagnan gave a nod to Treville, knowing he was stirring the royal instead of placating him.
"Rochefort, is the message as expected?" The King ignored the slight.
The blonde haired man brought the note forward. "It confirms what we knew."
d'Artagnan pressed his lips together. The risk and message were not needed. Thankfully, Louis was called to deal with another affair of state and they were released.
"I must return to the garrison, but Aramis and Athos are about. Find them as they will want to see you." Treville placed his hat on as he exited the palace.
The Gascon had planned to another musketeer on duty, but upon seeing Constance further down the hall, changed to pursue her. "Madame Bonacieux," he called out.
Constance face showed shock, sadness then a large smile of happiness. "d'Artagnan, when did you return?"
He was unable to repress the grin and moved nearer to her that was inappropriate to any who passed. "Today."
There was awkwardness between them that was wafting in the air that unsettled Constance for a moment. "Are you well?"
In the space of the answer Madame Bonaciuex grounded herself.
"I am." d'Artagnan licked his lips. "I missed you. I thought of you. Of this moment."
Between them there was a palatable love. Constance grinned as she admitted her feelings. "I missed you." She leaned into him so her head rested against his neck. What did you see happening when we next met?"
His mouth was close to her ear. "That I would ask you-if I were no longer a soldier, would you leave Paris- come to Gascony or even the colonies with me?"
Constance pulled away. "No longer a soldier?"
"Even in La Rochelle we received the news from Paris- the influence of Rochefort over King and Queen and the plans to disband the musketeers into obscurity." The Gascon tried not to allow the bitterness to seep into the moment, but noticed Constance did not disagree.
"Your silence is confirmation."
Her position with the Queen gave her independence at the cost of loyalty and political intrigue. "By staying with the Queen I can help the musketeers."
The young musketeer bowed his head at her as he took a step back. "Your loyalty is admirable." Well played. "Know that that if you earn disapproval, then this can all change." He had to warn her. "I won't ask again."
"d'Artagnan-" Constance squeezed his forearm, and he schooled his features so there would be no reaction from the wounded arm.
The Gascon did not want to continue on with the loss of hope they would one day be together. He had to be left with something. "Are you practicing with blade and musket?"
She shook her head.
"Call on me or one of the others when you have time." If he could not protect her, then he needed to be assured she could protect herself. Change was coming more rapidly than either of them could imagine. "Have you seen Aramis or Athos?"
Constance smirked. "He may be with Marguerite and the Dauphin."
Musketeers were not allowed within the private quarters, but he could escort Constance until she entered that area. The door opened to allow Madame Bonacieux to enter, which d'Artagnan was able to spy Aramis, cradling the royal baby in his arms while talking to the governess. "Tell Aramis I am at the stables." He made a brusque departure.
While making his way to the stables he walked the garden- it was a circuitous route, but he hoped he would see Athos. There was a rustling that caught his attention, but looking around he saw nothing until he heard murmurings. Believing there was a intruder, he neared a hedge and parted it slightly to see Milady in the arms of her husband, Athos. Startled, he backed away soundlessly to continue on to the stables, grabbed a brush to tend to his horse to await for his friends to find him while he tried to control the turmoil.

"My God, it worked." Aramis greeted the younger man with enthusiasm as he hugged his missing brother.
"It worked?"
"We'll explain later." Aramis waved away d'Artagnan's puzzlement. "Porthos deserves the credit." The sharpshooter frowned though at the appearance of the young man. "Did Treville not give you a moment?" d'Artagnan's hair had grown long enough that it was tied back, giving him more a hawkish look, dangerous, and his doublet and breeches were well worn. He was reminded of Marsac when they were young, before Savoy.
d'Artagnan shook his head. "There was a message to be delivered."
"Has Athos been told?" They had come to the palace together and once free of their duty he had remained, the comte's horse was still in the stable.
"I tried to find him-"
Athos stepped into the stables with a small smile. "But he has found you. You returned."
d'Artagnan returned the forearm grip. "I have."
"Good." Athos pulled him forward to pat the younger man on the shoulder. "Good."
They returned to the infirmary where Porthos's leg was propped on a pillow and he was leaning against the wall reading while lying in bed. "You, my friend, owe me ten sous."
Aramis laughed. "Gladly." When Porthos had suggested the idea, both he and Athos had quickly dismissed it. Yet, he had convinced them of the potential.
"Are you well?"
Porthos gestured for d'Artagnan to come closer. "Good to see you, lad. This is nothing." To illustrate the larger man moved to put his foot down. "A sprain."
"But the King believes he has broken his leg defending the King's honor and therefore another experienced musketeer, a champion, was needed."
Porthos agreed with Aramis, standing easily as if to prove his point. "Are we to go for a meal? I've rested enough today, and tomorrow I need to return to my search."
"Search?"
"For my father."
"He's alive? That's amazing-"
Aramis worried about what Porthos would discover. "Yes, all very clandestine."
d'Artagnan did not seemed convinced, looked to Athos to clarify. "What if the King discovers the ruse?"
"As long as he stays away from the palace, then all is well," Athos confirmed.
Aramis wanted to maintain the good humor for as long as possible. "A good meal, some wine and ale to celebrate."
There had been no festiveness in a long time- too many unsatisfying missions and secrets amongst them, but with d'Artagnan was the best of them, and with him came some hope.
Picking a place with good wine and food there was a reminder of better times. As they ate, d'Artagnan seemed to lose the melancholy and enjoyed his meal. When wine was needed the young musketeer stood for his turn to pay for a bottle, but Aramis would have none of that and grabbed the boy's forearm to stop him.
The wince brought silence to the table.
"Are you injured?" Aramis asked as he tried to get access to the wound while Porthos forced the boy to sit.
d'Artagnan tried to wrestle his arm away. "Just a scratch."
Athos stood. "Perhaps we can retire to my rooms. I am willing to share my wine."
Porthos laughed. "This is truly a special occasion."
It was easy to see what the others were creating an excuse. d'Artagnan huffed, but allowed himself to be led out of the tavern into the Paris street with the short walk to Athos's place.
Aramis was quick to manhandle the younger musketeer into a chair.
d'Artagnan batted him away. "At least give me a bottle before I remove my doublet."
Athos, as promised passed a bottle to his protégé while Aramis helped remove the doublet.
"This is what you consider a scratch? It wasn't even tended."
d'Artagnan sighed, giving an unconcerned glance to the wound. "There was no time. I was asked to return to Paris."
"You should take better care of yourself, boy." Athos nodded to Porthos who handed over a bottle of spirits to the medic to use on the injury.
Aramis was not expecting d'Artagnan to pull his arm away. "I'm not a boy or lad. I think I've earned that."
"Agreed, but whelp or pup remains." Porthos pulled his hand so Aramis could continue his ministrations. "You missed us."
d'Artagnan's snort was his only answer.
Once the wound was cleaned and more wine was drunk, d'Artagnan fell into a stupor. The young man was guided to Athos's bed.
"He's asleep," Aramis announced as he stretched.
"I see. In my bed." Athos pulled a blanket from the bed to place it on the floor.
"We will leave. I need to help Porthos limp back to the garrison."
Porthos had also enjoyed the wine. "I got the boy back," he said with a lazy grin.
"Yes, my friend, you did," Aramis agreed, leading Porthos out the door with the knowledge that for the first time in months they were in Paris together.

Athos woke with the taste of wine burning in his throat as he emerged from his cocoon of blankets he had placed on the rug of his floor. It took him a moment to realize why he was on the floor instead of on his bed. In a less than graceful move, Athos made it to standing.
"You're awake."
"More or less." Athos sat down on a chair. His washing could wait a moment.
d'Artagnan pushed off the blanket, studied his clean bandage before shifting to place his feet on the floor. "You're with her, aren't you?"
"Who?" Athos stilled.
"Milady. The bed reeks of jasmine." d'Artagnan gave a disgusted look to the bed.
Athos did not reply. What could he say that would not reveal his utter weakness?
The younger man pushed off the bed. "I want Constance, and I will only be able to get what she gives me."
"Yes." Another person who understood. "Our own hubris leads us to believe we can control something that will destroy us."
"We control nothing." Finding his doublet set on the chair, the Gascon slipped on the leather making quick work of the laces as his anger increased. "It all changed. What is Aramis doing with the Dauphin? You and Milady, who is the king's mistress? Porthos seeking his father? What is becoming of the Musketeers?
It was too early for this confrontation. "We've been occupied." Athos moved his foot so he pushed out the chair.
d'Artagnan collapsed into the seat with a huff. "What is my place in this?"
"To serve." It was what Athos reminded himself when he wanted to leave Paris to hide away from Anne.
Some stray hair settled on the young man's forehead, the locks having escaped while d'Artagnan slept. "I'm finding that difficult with what I know."
Time away from the garrison had given d'Artagnan shrewdness. "Do you want to discuss this with the others?"
(())
Porthos sat at the table outside with Aramis and elbowed the sharpshooter when he saw their two other brothers come through the gates of the garrison. "Don't feel right, but makes me think it will get better."
The large man knew Aramis understood the undercurrents of unsettlement were running through all of them. For him, it was the needs to find his roots that left him unfinished. Athos and Aramis also had their own issues which they did not speak of, but the secrets were tiring.
Maybe with d'Artagnan present they would go back, redeem the honor of the regiment in the eyes of the King.
"No, that looks like someone with something on their mind." Aramis commented on the determined look on their youngest.
Porthos stood to get two more bowls of porridge for the other men. Serge, in his generosity, placed some rolls and a pot of honey on a plate, which he balanced on top of the porridge. He passed some bread to Aramis, gave the other two their breakfast. "I rather hear the news after we've all eaten."
Athos picked at his food, but did eat while d'Artagnan ate steadily with his head bowed, arm crowded to protect the porridge. When finished he picked at the bread, dipping it in honey. "The Huguenots want peace, but their emissaries have yet to make it to Paris."
"Did you not tell this to the King?" Athos pushed away the porridge.
d'Artagnan frowned, the omission seemed to be weighing on him. "No, I did not. There is a spy close to the King that has an interest to want France engaged with its borders"
"So an attack can come from outside its borders," Aramis added as he tipped his hat back.
"Spain." Porthod confirmed what they were all thinking, what they had surmised from their past altercations with the Spanish.
The younger musketeers nodded. "The emissaries disappear by the time they reach Orleans."
Athos stood with a glance up the stairs. "Treville must be told and go to the King for permission to investigate, but not within the ears of Rochefort or anyone."
It should have been what d'Artagnan wanted to hear, a return to the four of them on a mission, but something was amiss. "There's something more." Porthos glanced to his friends for confirmation in what they were sensing.
d'Artagnan's brown eyes shifted downward for a moment, then he lifted his eyes to meet Porthos's gaze. "I fight with you until this is no more."
"No more?"
"There is talk about the King's displeasure with the musketeers. And you all seem. . .distracted."
"I remain a musketeer until the end," Athos said putting his hand in the middle of the table. Their leader gestured to Aramis and something passed between them in a matter of seconds.
"I will always be a musketeer first, my friends."
Porthos felt as though it was a reaffirmation for all of them. Aramis had his affecting affairs, Athos was involved with his wife and Porthos needed a connection to his past. "I stand with my brothers."
d'Artagnan's gleam lit his eyes. "Agreed. I only hope Louis does not remove me."
Porthos placed his hand on top of Athos's as did d'Artagnan, then Aramis. "You stay with us."
The young musketeer touched his fingers to his lips. "And the distractions?"
"On the road to Orleans," Porthos suggested. Though Athos and Aramis squirmed they relented. They would talk.
Their pledge was supposed to be to their king, but it had changed to be about brothers who would stand together because only together could they be strong and right the wrongs committed.
It would not be an easy mission, there was no guarantee of success, but the risk was to lose the musketeers, their brotherhood and France. They had had hope.
The end.

Author!anon, I'm so sorry I didn't see this until now! It's amazing, thank you so much. I love it. (Hugs it, squeezes it, calls it George)

No worries at all. It is nice to see that George is cared for! I am posting it at AO3 and will link it to the official Fill

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Round 3

Re: Fill: No Reward 3/? SEASON 2 Spoliers, Gen

Fill: No Reward 4/? SEASON 2 Spoliers, Gen

Fill: No Reward 5/? SEASON 2 Spoliers, Gen

Re: Fill: No Reward 6/6 SEASON 2 Spoliers, Gen

Re: Fill: No Reward 6/6 OP

Author: No Reward 6/6 OP