This fic was inspired by my other one-shot Obsessive Behaviour.

"Mathieu get back here! Mama told us not to go too far and you're going to get me in trouble!"

In true little brother fashion, seven year old Mathieu ignored the cries of his older brother and continued to run away. The high pitched giggles were the only thing that indicated to Charles d'Artagnan which direction his little brother had gone. Fog had settled quickly and suddenly over the fields of Gascony and Mathieu, having decided that it allowed for the perfect game, decided to run off, goading his brother into following him.

"Stop Mathieu!"

Once more, Mathieu didn't see fit to obey his brother's orders and continued to sprint. So caught up in his childish glee, he failed to notice a horse approaching, and thus proceeded to run straight into it.

"Mathieu!"

Charles heart stopped as he watched his brother fall. He had seen the horses too late, merely a second before they appeared as if by magic. Ignoring the two men, one of which who was shouting something to his companion, Charles skid to the floor and lifted his brother's head.

"Mathieu, Mathieu!" Charles called, a second away from a full blown panic attack. His brother was dead. He was dead!

He must have been saying this out loud, as a low gruff voice said, "Your brother isn't dead lad, see the way his chest lifts and falls? Allow me a look to see how injured he is."

Charles cradled his brother's head closer and raised his eyes to look at the owner of the voice. It was a young man, looking no older than his early twenties. He had a strong muscular build and a rounded face that was showing the beginnings of a small, well groomed facial hair. He had a strong muscular build, but what Charles noticed most were his clothes. They were well kept and sturdier than anything his family ever hoped to own. It was obvious he was a noble, and though he looked trustworthy, his mama had told him never to speak to strangers and that appearances could be deceiving. He also felt unrestrained anger at the man who had knocked his brother over, never mind his offer to help.

"No," Charles responded, a wary, defiant look in his eyes. "I can look over him perfectly fine." Proving his point, Charles gently ran a hand over Mathieu's head. Fortunately, there was no blood to be found but there was a sizeable lump on the back where his head had made contact with the ground. Charles' papa had been diligent in teaching him how to perform checks like this since it became obvious Mathieu was an accident prone child. Seconds later, his little brother's eyes began to flitter and Charles had never been more relieved in his short twelve years.

"Oh mon dieu, Mathieu are you alright?"

His brother needed a few more moments to gather his bearing before his forehead crinkled and his lip quivered.

"My head hurts," he moaned. He then spied that they were not alone. "Who're you?" He asked to the man.

"My name is Olivier, and the man behind me is my younger brother, Thomas. Might I ask your name?"

The man gave Mathieu what Charles assumed was supposed to be a kind smile, though he thought it looked more like he was in pain, and Mathieu, lacking any of the suspicion his brother had, was intrigued.

"My name's Mathieu and this is my brother Charles!" He said happily, all pain forgotten at the sight of new, interesting faces.

"It's nice to meet you." Thomas had finally decided to speak and knelt down next to Olivier, a smile on his face. Charles was much more willing to trust him than Olivier, mostly because at least he didn't injure his brother.

Ignoring the two brothers, Charles turned his attention to Mathieu. "Do you think you can stand?"

Mathieu stood without much trouble but upon being fully vertical began to tilt dangerously. Charles vaguely noted that both Olivier and Thomas had their hands outstretched slightly as if preparing to catch Mathieu themselves. Well, that wasn't necessary.

"Charles, m' feeling a bit dizzy," Mathieu said, a pained frown on his face, a hand gripping Charles' arm.

"It's alright, I'll just carry you back," Charles decided firmly. Before he could lift Mathieu on his back, Thomas stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

"I hardly think that's necessary. It is our fault your brother is hurt, let us accompany you home. You could each ride with one of us. Isn't that right Olivier?"

Olivier gave a brief nod. "Yes, of course."

Charles scowled. He was hardly going to accept help from the man who hurt his brother! A small part of his brain acknowledged that it was Mathieu's fault for running off, but a larger part argued that he was only seven, and this man should have been keeping a better watch. This part tended to be his more irrational side.

"I can take him back myself. I don't need your help."

"You may not need it, but surely it would be tiring, carrying your brother back all that way?" Thomas argued, he appeared determined to help and though Charles would be more willing to accept it from him, personal pride stopped him. His mama always said his stubbornness would get him into trouble.

"Why should I trust you? You could be kidnappers!" Charles accused. Next to him, Mathieu began to sigh, and leaned more heavily against his brother. Not only was his head hurting, but he was beginning to fatigue.

"Come on Charles," he whined and gave an adoring look towards the horses. It didn't seem to bother him that it was one of them that injured him. Ever since he had been a toddler, Mathieu had had a fascination with horses, and considering these steeds were much more impressive than any they had seen before, it was no surprised that the boy was slightly awestruck.

Making his tone as firm as possible, Charles said, "Thank you for the offer but I can look after my brother just fine and I'm sure we have taken enough of your time."

Without giving them time to protest, Charles hoisted Mathieu onto his back and the boy automatically latched his arms around his neck. He felt Mathieu twist his head around, perhaps giving a longing look towards the horses, and he began to walk. Neither of the men said anything, but moments later he heard the sound of hoof clops, and they were getting closer and closer.

"I see Gascon's learn their stubbornness at a young age," Olivier commented idly. Charles couldn't hold back a scowl. Why wouldn't they leave him alone? In what felt like betrayal, Mathieu struck up conversation with the adults.

"I like your horse, what's he called?"

Next to Olivier, Thomas began to snicker.

"What's so funny?" Mathieu asked.

"Nothing lad," Olivier said, sending his brother an exasperated look. "My horse is not a he, but a she. Her name is Milady."

Thomas start to outright laugh and Charles felt as though he and his brother were missing a private joke. He said as much and once he laughs subsided, Thomas explained.

"My brother is on his way to meet a woman who likes to be called Milady. They have only met once before but had exchanged letters and Olivier, thinking it would be romantic to turn up with a horse bearing her nick name, made quite a spectacle of himself. Tell me Olivier, what did she say to you?"

Olivier blushed. "Nothing suitable for young ears, but obviously all was not lost as we are about to meet again, are we not? Which is more than I can say for you, brother."

Thomas rolled his eyes. "I just haven't found the right woman yet. I have many years left to find a wife and settle down. I do not feel the need to be as hasty as some people."

"Charles likes a girl too," Mathieu spoke smugly, halting the banter between the brothers. Flushing, Charles shot his brother a glare.

"No I don't Mathieu," he said through gritted teeth. Perhaps he could run the rest of the way?

"Yes you do! It's Elaine, the baker's daughter. I heard you writing poetry about her yesterday!"

Charles' flush turned bright red. "No I wasn't!"

Olivier chuckled which earned him a glower from Charles. When he saw it he toned it down to merely a smile. "There's nothing wrong with admiring a pretty face."

"I told you, I don't like her," Charles reiterated, despite that even the thought of Elaine's face…and her eyes…made Charles blush madly.

"Right, right. Of course you don't." Charles knew the man was only humouring him, and it only made his irritation grow. Sometime during the conversation, raindrops had begun to fall upon them, and now they were growing larger and coming down faster. They were seconds away from a downpour and he was not the only one to notice this.

"I know you want to continue to carry your brother out of pride, but put that aside for the moment and at least let us get you to shelter before the heavens truly open? You don't want to risk you or your brother becoming ill, do you?" Olivier asked. Charles saw the manipulation, using his brother against him like that, but he had to concede that the man had a point. It was with much irritated muttering that Charles allowed he and his brother to be assisted onto the horses, merely seconds before the rain came down quick and heavy.

They took shelter under one of the many old oak trees that were scattered around the fields and the four sat underneath the thick branches. Charles made sure to sit close to Mathieu, while Olivier and Thomas sat opposite them.

"Mama's going to be mad if we miss dinner," Mathieu said mournfully, gazing at the falling rain.

"Well, we'll just come back with you and explain things to your mama," Thomas said with a kind smile but Mathieu was unconvinced.

"Mama's scary when we miss dinner. She'll probably tell you off too."

Olivier snorted. "I think we handle anything your mama has to say lad, I'm sure we've faced far worse."

Whilst Mathieu still looked disbelieving that they didn't fear his mama, the thought of the tales these men may have to tell overrode it.

"Are you Musketeers?" Their father had told them night time stories of the Musketeers, the brave, fearsome guards of the King. Many nights had it sent them to sleep, dreaming of swords clashing and pistols fired. It was Charles' ambition to one day become one of them, even though it was unlikely that a farm boy from Gascony would ever be able to join the ranks of men such as them. Unable to resist the topic of conversation, Charles stopped pretending to not be listening.

"We are not," Thomas said, and Charles noticed that he sounded almost wistful.

"I am the Count de la Fère. The dream of becoming a Musketeer is not my own, but Thomas'," Olivier said, giving his brother a gentle nudge with his shoulder.

"I want to be one too!" Mathieu said excitedly.

"You realise that being a Musketeer is one of the hardest things you could do?" Olivier asked.

"Yes, but Musketeers are admirable men, great fighters and loyal to France. It would be a great honour to be one of them," Charles defended, and Olivier raised an eyebrow.

"I wasn't being disrespectful, merely just checking you understood. I have seen many men attempt to join the Musketeers and find it is not for them, just as I know it is not for me."

"You say that now Olivier, but I bet you would be one of the best if you only thought to give it a chance!" Thomas argued, though it was said with a certain weakness that suggested that this was not the first time the topic had come up between the brothers.

Olivier huffed. "Trust me; something would have to go horribly wrong for me to turn to the Musketeers. It is not the sort of life I would like to lead Thomas, but you know you would have nothing but my support once you joined." Thomas just sighed and nodded.

Mathieu seemed a bit disappointed with Olivier's lack of enthusiasm. "Oh well, me and Charles have been practicing. Papa has wooden swords he lets us use sometimes!"

"I remember Olivier and I used to do the same," Thomas replied, a fond grin on his face. "Perhaps I could give you some tips?"

"Really?!"Mathieu gasped. "Yes please!" Thomas was just about to speak when Mathieu hushed him.

"No, not here! I don't want Charles to hear!" He began to nudge Thomas away and the young man allowed the weak manhandling with a laugh.

"Mathieu, don't go out from under the tree!" Charles called out worriedly and Thomas reassured him by calling back, "It's fine, we shall only be on the opposite side of the tree!"

That left Charles alone with Olivier and the boy folded his arms and stared resolutely past the man.

"I truly am sorry I hurt your brother earlier, but I saw him too late and I couldn't have moved if id tried. Will you accept my apology and stop acting like I am your arch nemesis?"

Charles muttered something incomprehensible into his arm. "I didn't quite catch that."

With a dramatic sigh, Charles removed his arm and repeated his earlier statement. "I said, that you're not my arch nemesis. That's William."

It wasn't quite acceptance of his apology, but Olivier was willing to go along with it.

"And why has this William earned such dislike?"

"Because he's a bully!" Charles exploded. "He's rude and always lies! He's always picking fights with the younger children. Not only that but all the girls still like him and it's not fair!"

Charles refolded his arms and rested his head on them with a huff, a sullen expression on his face.

"I'm assuming Elaine is one of those girls?" The resulting blush spoke for itself and Olivier gave Charles a sympathetic smile.

"It's not fair that she likes him and not me," Charles complained into his arm, earlier denial of his crush long forgotten.

"Well then, you'll just have to do better than him then, won't you?"

Charles tilted his head. "What do you mean?"

"Love is like a battlefield. Only the strongest, and most impressive win, and you need to show this Elaine girl that she is worth fighting for. Woo her, compliment her. Make William look inadequate compared to you."

Charles frowned. "But she doesn't even know I exist. It's hopeless," he moaned.

"Nothing's hopeless. Love is not something to give up on, and of course, you're young. Think of this as practise for when you really do find the woman of your dreams. You do not want to be unprepared, do you?"

"No…"

And so while Thomas was teaching Mathieu various tactics to employ when he and his brother next sparred, Olivier advised Charles the best way to woo Elaine. Almost against his wishes, Charles found himself warming to Olivier, and soon they were sharing laughs and for one fleeting moment Charles felt what it was like to have an older brother of his own. The rain soon settled after this, as if sensing that its duty to give the group a chance to bond was done, and the four began to set out again. However, this time, Charles accepted the offer to ride the horses.

"How do you fancy a race Olivier? Show these boys what horses like these can do?" Thomas suggested.

"Yes!" Mathieu eagerly crowed.

Horrible images of falling of the horses and landing in bloody messes entered Charles' mind and he subconsciously held onto Milady's mane tighter. Ever since he had seen Marc, one of his papa's friends, fall of his horse and break their leg, he had been worried of ever going faster than a trot on a horse. Not to mention, Primrose, his papa's horse, was a bit temperamental and once nearly kicked him in the stomach. It had been easy to forget this worry when he was focusing on getting himself and Mathieu out of the rain, but with that out of the way it returned. Nevertheless, he didn't want to appear afraid, and so when Olivier looked to him for consent he gave what he hoped was a nonchalant shrug.

"Sounds fun."

Given the go ahead, the two brothers nudged the sides of their horses and they quickly began to gather speed. Charles couldn't help but duck his head and grip the horse as firmly as possible, fearful that any moment he would fall off. Olivier noticed how tense his body had come and the hand around his middle tightened.

"Don't be afraid," he murmured in his ear. "I've got you, and I won't let you fall. Keep your head up, you may find yourself enjoying it. Tell me if you want to stop."

Emboldened by Olivier's words, Charles hesitantly raised his heads and saw the farmland around him pass in a blur. They were moving out of the fog now so Charles could see the trees and the sky begin to merge. Next to them, Mathieu was whooping in glee and Charles found himself joining in, a brilliant grin on his face. The adrenaline was pumping through his veins and Charles couldn't think of a better feeling, except perhaps that which comes when Elaine looked at him, however unintentionally.

In the distance, Charles could see the sight of his house approaching and he yelled this to Olivier. Olivier recited this fact to his brother, and with the knowledge that the race was coming to an end they both asked their horses for one more burst of speed so that they may be the victor. It was a close call, but it was Thomas that ended up victorious. He lifted Mathieu off his horse with a cry of victory the young boy echoed. Olivier assisted Charles off Milady and gave him a conspiratorial smile.

"We could have won that easily, but he would have been insufferable for days otherwise."

Charles gave a laugh. "Mathieu would have been the same; there is not a sorer loser in all of Gascony."

"Little brothers, eh?"

Charles was just about to reply when a shrill voice interrupted him.

"What on earth did I just see?"

All the colour left Charles' face. His mama did not sound happy. Cautiously, Charles turned around and was met with the sight of his mama standing in front of him, arms crossed and a face of fury.

"Because surely my two, sensible, good, boys would not be speeding along on horses, a half hour late for dinner!"

His mama was ignoring Olivier and Thomas, and Charles felt like hiding behind the older of the two. After all, they did say they would be able to handle it.

"Do not hide behind…oh, hello. I'm sorry, I've been extremely rude. My name is Isabelle and I am these rapscallions mother. Might I ask why you were bringing them home?"

It seemed his mama had noticed that they were both nobles by the way her talking had become much quicker. It was something that only happened when she was nervous and flustered.

Olivier took off his hat and gave a small bow to his mama. "My name is Olivier, and this is my brother Thomas. We came across your two boys playing in the fields. The weather had become quite misty and we were worried about the boys getting lost. It then started raining at we didn't want to risk them getting ill, I hope you don't mind?"

Charles barely held in a sigh of relief, glad that Olivier hadn't mentioned his brother's injury.

"And I got hit with his horse! She's called Milady!"

There went that. Charles pressed his hands to his face and groaned. Why his brother couldn't understand the concept of a secret he would never know.

"I'm sorry? What did you just say Mathieu?"

The tone of his mama's voice sent shivers down Charles' spine. She was quiet, and this was worse than when she was loud as she was only quietly angry when she was really, really mad. Mathieu seemed to notice he hadn't said the right thing, as his mama did not seem to share the same excitement as him and so he kept quiet.

His mama raised her eyes slowly to stare at both Olivier and Charles. This time, Charles did physically take a step back behind Olivier.

"I thought I told you to protect your brother Charles! And now he tells me he got hit by a horse. What were you doing?!"

"I…uh…"

"Excuse me mademoiselle, but I think I should take full blame for this. It is not your son's fault that I did not see Mathieu in time."

"Oh, don't think I'm not mad at you too young man!" His mama scolded. "You are just lucky that my Mathieu takes knocks every day and I can see that he is fine."

Charles stifled a laugh at the look of surprise Olivier had at being addressed in such a way, as did Thomas as he laughed openly.

"And you, where were you in all this?" His mama turned to Thomas and the man immediately stopped laughing. In fact, he looked exceptionally terrified.

"I…was behind my brother. I truly am sorry," Thomas stuttered.

His mama was silent for a few seconds. "Well then, now that's settled, how would you like to stay for supper?"

Charles stared at his mama incredulously. Was she still not mad? Why was she letting it go so easily?

"I'm afraid we really ought to be on our way," Olivier said apologetically.

"Please don't go!" Mathieu whined. He grabbed onto Thomas' hand with his own two and gave him pleading eyes. Charles frowned. His brother was rare in that he lacked the wariness they were taught to have with strangers, and constantly got attached.

"I'm afraid we have to lad," Thomas said sadly. "We have important business to attend to, and Olivier has to meet with Milady."

"But I'm never going to see you again!" Mathieu cried, and Charles, sensing an impending tantrum, went over to his brother and gently pried him off Thomas. His little brother fought against him, but a five year age difference meant that Charles only had minimal difficulty in keeping Mathieu from latching onto Thomas once again.

Thomas made a pained face at the sight, until it suddenly lightened. "How about this then, once we have finished our business, we can stop back here on our way back! If that's alright with your mother of course," he hastily added.

His mama shrugged. "It looks like Mathieu will not take no for an answer. It is fine with me."

"What do you say Olivier?" Thomas asked his brother with a smile.

Olivier huffed. "Wouldn't I look the monster if I said no? It is no trouble; we can easily stop here on our way back."

Mathieu made an ecstatic noise and Charles couldn't hold back a grin at the thought of seeing the two brothers again. As his mama went inside to get dinner set out, Mathieu gave Thomas a tight hug while Charles shifted awkwardly in front of Olivier. Eventually, he stood up straight and offered a hand. With a smile, Olivier took the hand and shook it.

"Do tell me how it goes with Elaine, will you?"

Charles nodded and the two parted. He gave Thomas the firm handshake and Mathieu said his own goodbye to Olivier. The brothers then left with a wave and a promise they would return, and two weeks later they did and even stayed for dinner. They parted in the same way, and the same happened a few months later. The fourth visit, Charles grappled both men in a hug, perhaps sensing that this would be the last visit. It would be many years before he met Olivier again, going by Athos, and he would never see Thomas again.

Oops, I made it sad.