Due to the unofficial youngblades site being down for such a long time, I have decide to put some of the fanfiction I wrote here on Unfortunately, I have lost quite a bit of the stories, but I have managed to find this one in tact. I hope you enjoy reading this!

Kriss

Morning Bout

The sun slowly began to rise pouring its rays through the windows of the musketeer headquarters. Usually, one would just now wake steering away from restful night's sleep, but not King Louis' close guards. At least, not a specific pair of musketeers. Metal clashing against metal and sounds of scuffling feet filled the practice square.

"Jacque" quickly parried d'Artangnan's offensive blow, then countered with her own. The two quickly regained their footing once more, standing in defensive stances. Neither wanted to yield to the other, for the ultimate prize of breakfast was depending on this match. Both were nearly equal in skill and technique, but this morning it seemed to be Jacque who was trailing behind.

"Not enough beauty sleep?" d'Artangnan asked with low mockery.

Jacque gave her classic half grimace-half smirk in response to her opponent, refusing to let him get the best of her. "You can think quick with your tongue, but my sword is quicker," she said, charging at him, intending to have first touch. They continued again as they had a half hour ago. They had a tendency to cover a vast amount of ground during their scrimmages.

Not too long ago, they found themselves in Captain Duval's office, lunging and jumping around desks and bookcases. When the captain found out, he had them cleaning the stables for two days straight. Since then, they've managed to keep their bouts within the training grounds.

"Her sweet voice fills the air, alas! It is my beauty so lovely and fair. Kissed by the sun are her strands of gold, in my arms I wish I could have her to hold …" said a voice down the hallway.

"Ramon!" Jacque and d'Artangnan yelled at the same time. It was true that they both loved their friend Ramon, dearly, but to hear his poetry so early in the morning…

"Sorry, sorry," apologized the Spanish musketeer. He emerged in the courtyard just outside the main room of the headquarters. He leaned against the stone wall, watching the two, amused and intrigued. "You better keep up, Jacque, you have already allowed d'Artangnan to slowly catch up from last week."

Jacque's eyes followed every move and every step that d'Artangnan made, but this little bout belonged to d'Artangnan today. She could not believe that he had knocked her rapier out of her hands, and that she was staring at the tip of d'Artangnan's. "Breakfast is on you," he said triumphantly. He returned his rapier to his side and picked up Jacque's, handing it to her. "It wouldn't hurt if I ordered to my heart's content, would it?" he asked, obviously rubbing in his victory.

"Funny," she said in response. "What is the morning record that I hold over you?" She dusted the dirt from her boots, and proceeded towards the entrance of the musketeer quarters.

The smile faltered from d'Artangnan's face. "Fifteen to nine... but that will change in due time!" he came back just as perky as ever. Suddenly, a loud booming sound came from the inside, making all three musketeers jump. Jacque, d'Artangnan, and Ramon looked at each other then hurriedly ran to the source of the sound. It did not take them long to find the door to Siroc's office barely hanging on the hinges. Smoke and dust poured from the office, and the three musketeers began waving their hands around trying to keep the smoke from burning their eyes.

They heard Siroc coughing, falling over broken glass and wood trying to get to the window. When the air had cleared slightly, they saw him covered in ash and his face was blackened. "Apparently, I used too much gunpowder," he said, not disturbed or phased at all that he nearly blew up his room.

The three stared at him in disbelief.