A Tale of Two Hats

It had begun as a normal evening for Athos, Aramis, Porthos and D'Artagnan. The tavern they stopped into for a drink was crowded and noisy, but peaceful enough. That was until one of the other patrons, well into his cups, staggered against their table and gave Porthos a bleary-eyed stare.

"Didn't know the Musketeers took mongrels like you," the drunk jeered. Porthos, of course, couldn't let such a slight go unchallenged, which led to an exchange of insults, followed by a brawl between the Musketeers and the drunk and his companions.

The tavern owner brought an abrupt end to the ruckus when he pulled out a musket from behind the bar. "This ends now," he announced in a loud voice, "Or else I start to shoot!" The Musketeers' opponents made a quick departure, and the tavern owner gestured towards the Musketeers with his weapon. "You lot can clear out, too."

Athos and Porthos grabbed their hats and, followed by D'Artagnan, started towards the door. Aramis glanced around the overturned tables and chairs. "Where's my hat," he asked, frowning. The others also looked around, but didn't see it either.

"One of the bunch that left was wearin' a hat that he didn't come in with," volunteered the tavern owner.

Aramis ran to the door and looked out, but the street was empty.

"Let's get out of here," said Porthos, as he pushed past Aramis, followed by the others. They started walking back to the garrison.

"What kind of a man steals another man's hat," grumbled Aramis, running his hand through his thick, dark hair.

"I don't even have a hat," complained D'Artagnan. "Treville keeps putting off requisitioning one for me."

"Maybe he likes lookin' at your pretty brown hair," teased Porthos, reaching over to ruffle D'Artagnan's hair. D'Artagnan knocked his hand away.

Athos smiled at the thought of the stern Treville admiring D'Artagnan's hair. The smile turned into a grimace and he rubbed his forehead where one of the brawlers had clipped him.

"How can I be a Musketeer without a hat," D'Artagnan lamented.

Aramis glanced at D'Artagnan, who was lagging slightly behind. "Why are you limping?"

"You stepped on my foot during the fight."

"Sorry about that."

"It hurts where you hit me in the ribs, too, with your elbow."

"It was an accident."

"That doesn't make it feel any better."

Athos's patience was getting strained. "Stop whining, D'Artagnan,"

"Why don't you tell Aramis to be more careful?

"There's no need to keep going on about it," countered Aramis. "It's not like I hurt you on purpose."

The throbbing increased in Athos's head and he spoke through gritted teeth. "If you two fools don't stop this stupid bickering, I'll be tempted to hurt you both and it WILL be on purpose!"

"He started it," muttered Aramis.

Athos glared at him. "You make me want to kick you."

Aramis subsided into silence, but not for long. "I wonder if I could talk the captain into offering a reward for the return of my hat."

"Um. Don't think that's a good idea," murmured Porthos.

D'Artagnan remained downcast. "I just don't understand why I can't have a hat,"

"It does appear that the captain is dragging his feet on this. He may feel that you haven't done enough yet to earn it," ventured Aramis.

"I follow his orders like the rest of you. It's not fair."

"It's different with you. I have to have a hat," insisted Aramis. "Women expect it and I don't like to disappoint."

Porthos looked smug. "Women are never disappointed in me, with or without a hat."

Athos glanced at him. "Trust me when I say that I don't want to know why women are never disappointed in you."

"There's a whole list of reasons."

"I'll take your word for it if you spare me any details."

Unable to listen to any more and with his head still throbbing, Athos stalked ahead, leaving his companions behind.

Two days later, Athos and Aramis were in the garrison courtyard, checking over their weapons. Porthos approached, holding something behind his back. Aramis looked up from cleaning his musket. With a flourish, Porthos presented Aramis with the missing hat.

"Porthos!" Aramis flashed a big smile as he reached for his hat and clapped Porthos gratefully on the shoulder. "How did you get it back?"

"I have my sources."

Aramis examined his hat for damage. Satisfied that it was in good condition, he put it on and carefully adjusted it for the most dashing angle.

Porthos looked about. "Where's D'Artagnan?"

Still fiddling with his hat, Aramis replied. "He's in the stables, probably feeling mistreated."

Athos added, "D'Artagnan pestered Treville again about getting him a hat. Treville yelled at him that he had far more important things to take care of and not to darken his door again unless he sent for him."

Aramis took off his hat, looked at it admiringly and started twirling it on his finger. "D'Artagnan really should have a hat. I'm going to find him and see if we can work out a new strategy for approaching the captain."

Athos abruptly started to walk off.

"Hey! Where're you going," Aramis called after him.

Athos answered without turning around. "Anywhere that people don't talk about hats!"