Well here we are, new story, slightly AU with the start of series two but there we go. Hope you like.

In faith I do not love thee with mine eyes,

For they in thee a thousand errors note,

But 'tis my heart that loves what they despise,

Who in despite the view is pleased to dote.

William Shakespeare

Captain Treville sat at his desk frowning at the report he held in his hands, he hadn't planned for this and of all days to receive such a report, this was not a good one. Quickly he thought through the duties he had assigned to his musketeers today and wondered who he could trust to carry out what now needed to be done. As if on cue he heard a familiar laugh from the courtyard; Porthos if he was not much mistaken. He sighed and dropped the report back on his desk before making his way out onto the balcony.

They were there, the three inseparables, recently become four with d'Artagnan's commission. He did not announce himself immediately but stood watching them, contemplating. They were always to be found together and if not then they were looking for each other. He had often likened them in his mind to a pack of hounds; loyal to their pack and always able to find each other come hell or high water. It was not uncommon for soldiers to form strong bonds but these four were stronger than most. He had known other Captains who would have separated such soldiers; fearing the effect it would have if one were wounded or killed but he could not condone such a thing, not with these four. As he watched them, Aramis smiling brightly as he poked fun at d'Artagnan, Porthos clapping the boy on the shoulder and Athos smiling wryly as he lounged against the stairs, Treville made a decision.

"You four; my office, now." He knew his irritation was apparent in his voice and saw the raised eyebrows as he turned away. A moment later he heard their footsteps on the stairs as they obeyed without question. They filed in, Athos leading them, the others following in his wake. They stood silent and still, waiting patiently. "I've had a report of trouble along the road into the city; a small group of men in the woods that border the road. There is someone travelling along that road today who may need protection and I can only spare two of you; Athos and Porthos you're going."

"Who are we protecting?" Athos had raised an eyebrow in question.

"Her name is Madame Ardoin; she'll be travelling with a man and another woman; they are due to arrive on the road today. Get yourselves out there and watch for them; when you get them to Paris then bring them here."

"To the garrison?" Porthos' confusion was evident.

"That's what I said." Treville fixed the soldier with a glare. "There is one more thing you need to know..." He was cut off as the door to the office flew open and a messenger fell into the office closely followed by an apologetic looking musketeer.

"Captain Treville, the King demands your presence immediately." Treville sighed and picked up his hat and cloak.

"Aramis, d'Artagnan with me." He hurried out of the room closely followed by the musketeers he had summoned, leaving Athos and Porthos behind. They looked at the door before turning to each other.

"Well so much for something we needed to know." Porthos glanced back at the door.

"I imagine we'll find out soon enough." Athos' face betrayed nothing.

"Best get going then; don't want to upset him anymore." Without another word they placed their hats on their heads and left the room.

Treville stood before the King; although he was outwardly calm Aramis and d'Artagnan could see the tension in his jaw and shoulders. They knew their Captain was fretting although they could not fathom why. As per usual the King prattled on, not realising or caring that something bothered his loyal musketeer.

"...and when she arrives I want to meet her; I'm quite fascinated."

"Of course, you're Majesty."

"Very well, Treville you can go." The King turned away and the musketeers and their Captain bowed low before leaving. Aramis and d'Artagnan followed him, neither daring to speak and risk the wrath they could see simmering just below the surface. They both tensed as he rounded a corner only to collide with a woman coming the other way, sending the pile of linen in her arms to the floor where it collapsed in untidy folds. It was only when Treville stepped away, mumbling an apology that they saw that he had collided with Constance.

"It's alright, Captain, I wasn't looking where I was going either." She knelt and began to gather up the pile of fabric. Out of chivalry, Treville knelt to help, but his musketeers could see that he was itching to get away.

"You go on, Captain; I'll help Madame Bonacieux." D'Artagnan stepped forwards and the Captain straightened, nodding.

"Don't be too long." He strode off along the corridor and d'Artagnan knelt beside Constance, studiously ignoring the smile on Aramis' face as he followed the Captain.

"Is he alright?" Constance shook out a piece of linen and began to refold it.

"Not sure, he's been in an odd mood all day."

"He looked worried." Her brow creased in concern.

"He has a lot to worry about." D'Artagnan picked up the now neatly folded pile of linen and stood, offering a hand to Constance. She took it and rose to her feet before taking the linen from his hands.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." He paused, gazing at her for a moment. "How are you enjoying the life of a lady in waiting?"

"Well I don't get to go home much, which means I don't really see my husband." She watched as his face dropped and laughed. "But that does mean I get to see you." He grinned at her, once more giving thanks as he had many times over the last few months that Constance had come to work at the palace and that they had once again been able to rekindle their love; albeit more carefully than last time. Glancing around quickly to make sure no one else was around, d'Artagnan leant forwards and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips before taking his leave and moving hastily down the corridor after Treville and Aramis.

Athos and Porthos cantered along the road making their way to the woods that Treville had spoken of. They slowed when they reached the right stretch of road; walking their horses slowly while watching the trees carefully for any sign of the bandits.

"So who do you reckon she is?" Porthos' eyes flicked back and forth as he spoke.

"It doesn't matter; Treville has ordered us to protect her. If he wants us to find out who she is then he'll tell us." Athos sounded bored.

"Would it kill you to be curious?" Porthos shook his head.

"There's a saying about curiosity." Porthos could swear he heard a note of amusement under the boredom, something that happened more often now that he was free of Milady. He was about to retort when the crack of a gunshot sounded on the road ahead of them. As they spurred their horses along the road, both feared that they may have failed in their mission before it had even begun.

As they rode, Athos heard one of the most terrible noises in the world; a horses' scream, mingled with that of a woman. They rounded the bend in the road at a gallop, their horses barely keeping their footing. Athos drew his pistol, barely keeping his grip on his horses' reins as he hauled it to a stop. He looked at the scene before him and counted five men all brandishing one form of weapon or another. Two horses milled around nervously and he could see the body of a man not far away, another horse spun nervously, the woman on its' back clutching on as best she could. He fired his pistol and heard Porthos do the same; two of the men fell soundlessly. One turned and fired at him and Athos felt the shot fly past his head. Porthos leapt from his horse, drawing his sword and Athos followed suit.

"Eleanor." He heard the woman call out and another shot rang through the air, a second later the woman's horse screamed and fell in a tangle of limbs, taking her with it.

One man ran at Porthos and Athos heard a woman's scream as another man ran at him. He parried a thrust from the knife in the man's hand and flicked the point of his sword round, driving it through his opponents' chest. He paused and looked around, Porthos had just dispatched his opponent and by Athos' reckoning that left one more. He heard a strangled cry and turned; the last man knelt on the floor, straddling another woman. One hand was wrapped about her neck, in his other hand he held a knife, the point of the blade pressing into the hollow of her throat. He looked up, his eyes desperate as the two musketeers advanced on him.

"Don't come any closer." He glared at them and tightened his grip on the girl, she grasped at his wrist as she fought for breath, her nails leaving bloody lines across his skin.

"Jesus, he's killing her." Athos heard Porthos' voice low behind him and knew his friend was right.

"Your friends are dead, if you kill this woman now in cold blood it will not save you." Athos took a small step closer, halting when the man pressed the knife against the girls' throat, drawing a drop of blood that shone like a ruby against her fair skin. She cried out and her feet kicked wildly, heels digging into the soft earth.

"Won't make much difference then will it?" Desperation verging on madness showed in his eyes and the musketeers coiled like springs as they realised what he intended. At that moment the girl gave a cry and with some deep reserve of desperate strength managed to push his hand away, knocking the knife to the side. Athos saw Porthos move, running faster than any man of his size should and barrelling into the man, knocking him away from the girl. They rolled across the floor and Athos ran towards the woman; she had rolled onto her side, one hand at her throat as she drew in shuddering breaths. As he reached her, Athos saw Porthos rise to his feet, leaving the man in a bleeding heap on the dirt road.

"Are you alright, Madame?" Athos reached out to help the woman sit up, swiftly pulling his hand back when she flinched from his touch as though burned. Her head turned towards his voice but she did not look at him. She said nothing, but her head turned again as Porthos approached, his eyes fixed on the girl, a frown on his face as he watched her carefully.

"Athos." Porthos' voice was quiet and he nodded at the girl, frowning. Athos looked up at Porthos then back at the woman in front of him; her green eyes did not focus on anything, but her head turned at sounds. It took him only a moment to realise what Porthos had already seen. This woman was blind.

Well there we go, hope you like.