So this is it! The final chapter! I just want to thank everyone who stuck with me on this, even when the waits for updates were way too long. Your support has been amazing and is what keeps me doing this. I'm not sure when my next Musketeers story will be since I feel that I have been neglecting my first love, Supernatural, but there will definitely be more Musketeers stories in my future :) This chapter contains the epilogue at the end. I hope you enjoy!
Cindy
Chapter 15 – Jean and d'Artagnan
It was early in the afternoon when d'Artagnan finally awakened. He groaned as he pushed himself up into a sitting position on the bed and looked around the room, noting with some disappointment that he was alone. His thoughts went back to that morning, his breath quickening as he remembered the moment when Amyot hit the end of the rope. Then, he remembered the sound of the man's sobs before the stool was kicked away and a different feeling washed over the Gascon, leaving him befuddled and confused, for what he was feeling was not hatred or anger toward the man who had tortured him. Instead, he felt a deep pity for a man who had felt so strongly about his cause that he had allowed it to take over his life and drive him mad in the process. The Gascon took in several deep breaths, letting each one out slowly to calm himself. He shook his head at the idea that he actually felt bad for Amyot, but that feeling was gone when suddenly there was a soft rap on the closed door. d'Artagnan glanced around the room in search of a weapon, the young man at once on edge about being alone and not knowing who was on the other side of the door. His body tensed as another knock sounded, but he immediately relaxed when a low voice called out.
"Hello? It's me, Jean…may I come in?" the voice sounded, bringing a warm smile to the young man's face.
"Coming!" d'Artagnan called. The Gascon swung his legs over the edge of the bed then slowly pushed himself to stand. He shuffled across the room, disengaged the lock and pulled the door open wide, allowing his visitor to step past him into the room.
"You're alone?" Jean asked as he looked around the room.
"Uh…yes, it looks like it. I woke only a short time ago and nobody was here," d'Artagnan answered, the young man giving the older one in front of him a thankful smile when Jean took his arm to steady him when it became obvious that the younger man was still a bit unsteady on his feet. Jean guided d'Artagnan toward the small table near the fireplace, his hand lightly pressed to the small of his back, and eased him onto one of the chairs, the elder man concerned about how weak the younger one still was.
Once d'Artagnan was settled, Jean pulled out another chair and soon both men were sitting, a cup of wine in front of each. Jean fiddled with his cup rather than drink from it and d'Artagnan tilted his head as he watched his new friend.
"What is it, Jean? What troubles you?" d'Artagnan queried softly.
Jean looked up and smiled warmly at the young man. "I…I am leaving Paris in the morning," he said.
"Why?" d'Artagnan asked with furrowed brow.
Jean sighed as he leaned back in his chair. "The city makes me nervous…so many people so close together. I'm from the country and am not used to all of this. And…well…I've been away from my family so long, but I…I…"
At Jean's hesitation, d'Artagnan reached across the table and gripped the man's wrist. "You are afraid to go home?" he asked, his eyes filled with kindness as Jean met his gaze. The man was once again filled with admiration for the younger man before him. He felt stupid for feeling so scared in front of someone who had been through so much, yet had managed to hold onto his courage and humanity.
"What if she doesn't want me?" Jean asked. "I've been away for so long, d'Artagnan. What if she believes me dead? What if she has moved on?" he continued in a rushed, shaky voice.
"Did she love you…before you left?" d'Artagnan queried.
"Yes, we were very much in love, but then I just left her behind," Jean answered with shame.
d'Artagnan smiled as he gave Jean's wrist a soft squeeze. "She will welcome you with open arms, Jean…I know she will," he said before pulling his hand away and leaning back.
"But, why would she?" Jean asked.
"Because she loves you. That doesn't just go away…especially when one doesn't know what has become of their loved one," d'Artagnan replied.
"So, you think that I should go to her? After all this time?"
"I do. I can see that Paris isn't for you, Jean. Your heart lies elsewhere, and though I will miss you, I will be happy in knowing that you are with your beloved wife once again," d'Artagnan answered.
Jean had just opened his mouth to speak when suddenly, the slightly open door burst wide open and three men rushed into the room, their weapons drawn, surprising the two men inside. Jean was on his feet in a heartbeat and in front of d'Artagnan, his own weapon held out against the sudden threat.
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Athos, Aramis and Porthos hurried along the streets between the palace and Athos' apartments, the urge to get back to their youngest strong among all three. Several hours after they had tucked d'Artagnan into bed, they had received an apologetic note from Captain Treville, informing them that the King wished to see them right away. Though the King had been disappointed that d'Artagnan hadn't been with them and had at first insisted that he be brought to the palace immediately, a hushed conversation with the Queen had managed, thankfully, to change his mind. They had stood for over an hour listening to the King go on and on about how courageous and wonderful they all were, especially the missing recruit. Cardinal Richelieu stood just behind and to the right of the King's seat, a look of barely concealed contempt on his face as the King droned on. Finally, after the King had finished with his accolades, words the three men knew would be forgotten by the royal within the week, they were released to return to their still recovering recruit, with a promise that they would bring d'Artagnan to the palace within the next few days. After a brief conversation with Treville, the three men rushed through the palace, all eager to get back before d'Artagnan woke to find them gone.
Finally, the Inseparables reached the building that housed Athos' apartments and they rushed up the stairs, only to come to a sudden halt when Porthos, who had led the way up the stairs saw the door to the room that their Gascon was in slightly ajar. He held up his finger to his lips as he turned to his two friends then turned his head so he could listen. Voices from inside the room carried out to them and all three pulled their swords free and rushed the rest of the way up the stairs before crashing through the door. The three men pulled to a stop when they saw Jean, his own sword drawn, standing protectively by the table, his body partially blocking their view of d'Artagnan, who was pulling himself to his feet, the pain of the movement obvious as he gritted his teeth.
Jean's eyes were wide as he took in the three men, then he let out a relieved breath as he let his sword arm fall to his side. "Thank God it's only you," he breathed out while stepping to the side to allow the three men a full view of their youngest.
The three musketeers lowered their weapons in unison before Aramis rushed forward and took d'Artagnan's arm. "What are you doing out of bed?" he queried as he helped the young man to sit back down on the chair.
"It is my fault, I'm afraid," Jean hurried to say. "I wished to come say goodbye, but I wasn't expecting d'Artagnan to be alone."
"You're leaving?" Athos asked as he watched Aramis look d'Artagnan over.
"Yes. It is time for me to find out if my wife will accept me back," Jean answered.
"We already discussed this, Jean. You know she will," d'Artagnan said, the young man trying in vain to push Aramis' hands away, receiving only a sharp look from the medic in return.
"Yes, we did, and I hope with all of my heart that you are right, d'Artagnan," Jean said in reply.
"So, when are ya leavin'?" Porthos asked as he removed his weapons belt and slung it over the back of one of the chairs.
"Tomorrow. It is a long journey home and I wish to make it there by weeks end," Jean replied.
Athos looked up from where he had seated himself at the table and eyed the man who had become a friend. "Perhaps Captain Treville could spare a man or two to accompany you home. The roads are not as safe as they once were," the musketeer offered.
Jean smiled gratefully, but shook his head. "That won't be necessary. I am capable of taking care of myself…but I do appreciate the offer," he said.
Athos nodded, but a quick glance at d'Artagnan revealed much concern in the young man's dark eyes. "If you won't accept an escort, at least make sure to find an inn each night to rest in," Athos requested.
"I do not have the money for such extravagances, I'm afraid," Jean replied.
Athos glanced at Porthos and gave him a quick nod before he reached for the bottle of wine. He poured himself a cup as Porthos left the room, only to return several minutes later with a small, leather pouch. He handed the pouch to Athos who then stood and moved in front of their new friend.
"Take this…it is more than enough to pay for an inn each night. The rest you can use as you see fit," Athos said as he handed the pouch to the surprised man.
"I cannot accept this, Athos. It is too much," Jean said as he peered into the pouch and became immediately aware that there was more coin than he usually earned in a year.
"Please, Jean, I will sleep much easier knowing that you sleep where you are protected," d'Artagnan said, his dark eyes beseeching the man to comply.
"Besides, we owe you," Porthos said as he clapped the man on the back. When Jean glanced over at him, his face a mask of confusion, Porthos continued. "For keeping our pup relatively safe until we could get to him."
Jean shook his head and held the pouch out to Athos. "I do not expect payment for that. I did what I did because it was the right thing to do," he said.
Athos pushed the man's hand back and smiled slightly. "And we give you this because it, too, is the right thing to do. We can never fully repay you for what you have returned to us…please accept this small token of our eternal gratefulness," he said.
When Jean still looked hesitant, Aramis turned and smiled charmingly at him. "You will not get out of this room without that pouch so you might as well just put it in your pocket," he said.
Jean glanced at each man, his gaze finally stopping on d'Artagnan, whose own eyes were so pleading that the man could not refuse the gift. When he shoved the pouch into his pocket, he heard Porthos' boisterous laugh behind him.
"'e gotcha with those puppy eyes, didn't 'e?" Porthos asked as soon as his laughter died away.
When Jean looked questioningly at Porthos, it was Aramis who stepped forward and offered an explanation. "He has a gift, our young Gascon. We saw glimpses of it during his training, but we didn't get the full arsenal until he was recovering back at the manor. It's hard to keep the pup in bed when he looks at you like that."
Jean furrowed his brow then looked once again at d'Artagnan. He smiled fondly when he saw the indignation on the young man's face. "Ah, pay them no ill will, d'Artagnan, for maybe you don't know the power behind your gift," he said with a grin.
"You too!?" d'Artagnan cried as he shook his head. The men around him, however, did not miss the slight curl of his lips as he turned his head away. There were smiles to go around and for several moments no words were said. Then, suddenly, a loud grumble was heard and d'Artagnan looked up at his friends, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Athos smiled fondly as he stepped toward the young man.
"I do believe d'Artagnan's stomach is trying to tell us something," Athos said as he turned to his companions. "Porthos, Jean…would you be so kind as to run and fetch us some food and more wine from the kitchen?" he asked.
"On it," Porthos said as he grabbed Jean's arm and led him from the room.
When the two men returned several minutes later, they spread the food on the table, poured the wine and the five men sat down to eat, each of the four older men watching as inconspicuously as they could to make sure that the youngest in the room ate everything on his plate. It took a bit of time, but finally d'Artagnan had finished all that he had been given. He smiled at the four men, one brow lifted as if to let them know that he knew they had been watching him, then suddenly his mouth widened into a deep yawn. Aramis patted the Gascon's arm as he stood from his chair.
"I guess that is a sign that someone needs to get some more rest," the medic said.
"I'm not tired, Aramis," d'Artagnan protested.
"Nonsense…we can all see that you are still in need of more sleep," Athos said. "We promise that this time, when you awaken, we will be here."
d'Artagnan eyed his friends, then let his gaze linger on Jean. "And you. Will you still be here? You won't leave without saying goodbye?" he asked.
Jean smiled as he set his cup of wine on the table. "I will stay if you wish. I am not leaving until the morning anyway and I have all that I own with me. I would never leave without saying goodbye to you, d'Artagnan," he answered.
"Good! Then it's settled. The pup will go back to bed and Jean will be our guest for another night," Aramis quipped as he reached down and gripped the Gascon's arm, helping the young man to his feet.
Once tucked away into bed, it took only a few moments before d'Artagnan was fast asleep. The others returned to the table and talked quietly amongst themselves until the light of afternoon slowly faded to the dark of night. Finally, when none of the men could keep their eyes open another moment, they all found spots to bed down for the night. Athos dragged a chair over to the side of the bed and sat down with a sigh. He took off his boots and lifted his feet to rest on the edge of the bed, then lowered his hat over his eyes and slowly drifted off to sleep, comfortable in the knowledge that they were all together and they were all safe.
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The following morning, after a quick breakfast, it was time for Jean to make his journey home. He shook the hand of each of the Inseparables, but when he tried to pull his hand away from Porthos, the large man pulled him into his arms and hugged him close. "Thank you," Porthos whispered into his ear. When Jean pulled away and met the large man's eyes, he could see the gratitude there. He looked at Athos and Aramis and saw the same reflected in their eyes. Finally, he turned to d'Artagnan and smiled. He stepped forward and pulled the young man close. He patted his back then pulled away. "I will always remember the day I met this strong and courageous man. I will forever be in your debt for inspiring in me the strength I needed to stand against Amyot. Thank you, d'Artagnan…I will never, ever forget you," he said, his voice thick with emotion.
d'Artagnan, his eyes bright with unshed tears, took Jean's hand in his. "Thank you for risking everything to protect me. It is I who is inspired by your courage and kindness, Jean. Please be safe on your journey home and know that I will never forget you either," he said softly.
The two men hugged again and then Jean was gone. d'Artagnan watched the door for several moments then turned to his friends. Aramis smiled as he threw his arm around the young man's shoulders. "Do not fret, pup…you will see Jean again…I'm sure of it," he said.
d'Artagnan looked over at his friend and smiled. "I hope you are right, Aramis," he said before pulling away and moving to sit back at the table. "So," the Gascon then said. "I never did ask…where did you all go yesterday?"
"We were summoned to the palace. King Louis wished a meeting with us. A long meeting," Athos answered with a roll of his eyes.
"Ah…lucky you," d'Artagnan quipped with a wide grin.
"Oh, fear not, pup," Porthos said. "The King 'as requested a meeting with you once yer strength is back."
The three Inseparables could not stop their laughter at the look that suddenly graced their youngest's face. Soon, the three voices raised in laughter were joined by one more and it was a long time later when silence once again gained hold of the room.
Epilogue – One Month Later
d'Artagnan swiped his arm over his face, the sweat of his brow soaking his sleeve. His body ached and he was exhausted, but a smile graced his young face never the less. He was back to training, gaining strength every day, his skills almost back to what they had been before his abduction and torture and he couldn't be happier. He had begun light training one week after Jean had left Paris and four days after his meeting with King Louis, a meeting that had become a torture in and of itself. When he had finally been released from his King's presence, his three friends had taken him out for much deserved dinner and drink at their favorite pub. It was his first venture away from Athos' apartment and it felt amazing to finally be able to live again outside of those four walls.
Each week d'Artagnan's training had intensified and this week had been Porthos' turn to get him back into fighting shape. While the bigger man had taken it easy on him at first, by the end of the week it was apparent that the kid gloves had come off and it was up to d'Artagnan to fight or fail. He had been pulled away throughout each day by either Athos or Aramis to practice his swordplay and shooting, and he was sure it was because they feared he may get hurt again, so fierce was his determination to regain all that his time away from training had taken from him. Porthos allowed the interruptions though as he was fully aware that d'Artagnan would work himself to the bone if allowed, and as much as he wanted the young man back in fighting shape, he had no desire to see him injured.
It was here, at the end of a full week of hand to hand training that d'Artagnan found himself at the water barrel, wiping the sweat from his brow and grinning ear to ear. After drinking his fill of water he turned and looked around for his friends, a slight frown forming when he could not see them anywhere. He turned in a circle, his eyes searching for the three men, his heart sinking when it became obvious that they were not in the garrison. He knew they weren't in Treville's office since the captain had left not long ago for the palace. Over the past month, they had all been too tired at the end of the day to go out to the pub, the four preferring to sit and drink wine at their favorite table in the garrison. They would converse for a few hours, drink wine and eat the food that Serge brought for them, then they would make their way to their beds, either at the garrison or in Athos' case, his apartments and Constance's for d'Artagnan. d'Artagnan's eyes fell on their table and he sighed when he found it empty, though he knew it would be since that was the first place he had looked.
d'Artagnan let out another sigh as he made his way to the entrance of the garrison. He knew there was probably a good explanation for his friends leaving without saying goodbye, but he still couldn't hide the sudden hurt he felt at their absence. He stepped through the garrison gates and headed in the direction of the Bonacieux home, his head down, eyes on the ground ahead of him. He startled when suddenly a hand landed on his shoulder and stopped him in his tracks. His sword was already in his hand as he pulled away and spun to meet the one who had grabbed him, the young man stumbling back a step when he realized who it was.
"Athos…I…"
Athos cocked his head and eyed his protégé curiously. "We've been waiting for you. We think you deserve a night out, but if you are tired and wish to take rest, we understand," the swordsman drawled.
"No…I'm not tired. Not at all," d'Artagnan stammered. He looked past his mentor and saw Aramis and Porthos leaning against the outside wall of the garrison, bright smiles on both of their faces.
"Very good then…shall we go?" Athos replied before he turned and strolled back to the other two musketeers.
d'Artagnan stood in his spot, his feet not quite getting the message that they should be moving when Porthos' voice called out to him. "Hey, whelp…you comin' or what?" A wide grin spread across the Gascon's face and he rushed to meet up with his friends. They walked in silent comradery until d'Artagnan could stand the silence no longer.
"I…uh…I just want to thank you all, for everything you are doing for me. I…"
"Hey, one does not thank their brothers for doing what brothers are supposed to do," Aramis said as he reached a hand up to ruffle the Gascon's hair, both Athos and Porthos nodding their agreement.
And there it was. d'Artagnan's heart filled and his smile widened at the thought. He was no longer just a recruit to these men, nor just a protégé…he was their brother, and that was more than he could ever hope to be.
THE END
That's all she wrote! I hope the ending didn't disappoint. Please let me know what you think and once again...thank you all so much for reading, following, favoriting (pretty sure that isn't a word), and reviewing. You are amazing! Take care :)
Cindy