When the Day Comes

Louis paced back and forth in the dining room, possibly burning a path into his stone floor. He was driving his grandmama crazy, so she left him to his insanity. Louis even sent Cardinal Mazarin from his presence, wanting peace and solitude. He did not want to hear advice or half hearted compliments from the Cardinal right now. He could not help himself, for he was worried about his musketeers. It was already late afternoon, and still he had not heard from them. He heard boots clacking against the hard floor and turned to see Captain Duval standing in the doorway.

"Anything?" Louis asked desperately.

Captain Duval shook his head. "No, your majesty. Private Siroc and private Ramon have not return yet. I have no reports on the whereabouts of d'Artagnan or Laponte."

Louis scoffed in disbelief and continued his pacing. He stuck a finger in the air, pointing in no particular direction. "Private Laponte saved my life. If his body is not found, then I shall hold a most noble burial for him in his name." Louis stopped his pacing and pulled out the dagger that Jacque had given him when they were ambushed. He was alive and breathing, unharmed and safe because of Jacque Laponte. He didn't need an advisor to tell him that. "That man… cared for me," the young king said, eyeing the dagger.

Captain Duval cleared his throat, unaccustomed to being in such a position with his king. "All of the musketeers care for your well being, your highness."

Louis shook his head, the blond curls hitting the side of his face. "Yes, captain, they are required to protect me, but Laponte cared for me. I could tell."

"How were you able to tell, your majesty?" Captain Duval decided to play along with the fifteen year old. Louis was known for acting childish, pure hearted as he was. Sometimes, him knowing that he ruled France went to his head, but something told Duval that this was different.

Louis held the dagger to his heart, looking as though he would cherish it forever. "When he saved my life, he did not address me as 'Sire' or 'your majesty.' He called me Louis. I'm old enough to know that it was not a king that he saw in danger, but a boy. For a moment, I felt that I was more treasured than anything…"

A pair of running feet were heard in the hallway. They echoed loudly throughout the dining room as a young man burst through the door, short of breath. "Your highness…!" he gasped.
Louis looked at him with an astonished face. He became rather impatient when the man could not speak his words. "Well, what is it?" he asked.

"The musketeers, d'Artagnan and Jacque Laponte are here!" he managed to spit out.

Louis blinked. Did his ears deceive him? Then, four bodies rounded the doorway, and there stood d'Artagnan and Laponte followed closely by Siroc and Ramon. "D'Artagnan! Laponte!" Louis cried happily. He ran to them and did something that embarrassed Jacque beyond anything she knew. Before she could bow and show him the required respect, the king of France, her liege, the man she swore to protect with her life, hugged her with all his might. He placed his hands on either side of her face and stared into her eyes. "I thought you were dead!" He jumped excitedly when it finally set in his mind that he was not talking to a ghost or a figment of his imagination.

Jacque did not know what to do. He was not just any fifteen year old, he was a king. Should she hug him back? Or should she wait till someone or something pried him off of her. His senses came back and stepped away from Jacque. She could see the faintest hint of a tear in the corner of his eye. "Dying is not part of the oath I took, your majesty," Jacque said.

Captain Duval stepped forward and clamped his hand on Jacque's back. "God be praised, son, you gave us quite a scare. I'm not the only one that was worried as you can tell. Siroc and Ramon also were quite anxious to set out and search for you two."

D'Artagnan touched the corner of mouth. "I am well aware about how they felt, Captain," he said eyeing Ramon.

Louis looked at the d'Artagnan as would a boy behold his childhood hero. "Splendid display of courage, d'Artagnan. Absolutely wonderful. Without any regard for your own life, you would risk it for your comrade. And privates Siroc and Ramon?"

"Yes, your majesty," the inventor and Spaniard said together.

"I understand how hard it must have been to leave your comrades behind for my sake," Louis explained. "But you did not break your oaths, and for that you should be commended as well."

"Thank you, your majesty," Siroc said, bowing.

"Gracias, your majesty," said Ramon.

Louis paced around again, this time however, it was not in worry. He clapped his hands together, coming up with a brilliant idea. "I have it! I shall hold a feast here for you musketeers. It shall be in your names, entirely. You have gone through much peril on my account, and besides it has been a while since this place was lively and full of high spirits. Cardinal Mazarin is always so dull and serious all the time."

The musketeers, including Captain Duval, looked to one another in amazement. The king would hold a feast in their honor? This would give the musketeers great credibility, and it would make Mazarin furious. The fact that the Cardinal would be enraged because of something they had done inspired five large smiles.

"Thank you, your majesty. We are honored," Captain Duval said.
Louis shooed them out of the dining room. "Off you go! Later tonight, there will be a dazzling feast in this room. Go wash up and head straight back here once you are done!"

The musketeers filed out and began walking down the long hallway. "Oh and private, Ramon?" Louis called.

"Yes, your highness?"

"Do not forget to bring a fresh supply of Val de Bleu!"

Jacque was relieved to finally have a decent wash. It was not as grand as the hot springs, but it will suffice for now. She smiled to herself when she pictured Louis in her mind. He was a king, true, but he was also a growing young man. Being close to death must have shocked the poor boy. If he was older and had years of experience under him, he would not have treated her in such an intimate way. She supposed that with time, he will grow into a regal man that will rule France for years to come.

Jacque pulled the musketeer uniform over her shoulders and buttoned the front, careful not to disturb her wound. She had been feeling better as of late, but she still could not use her left arm entirely. The rapier was strapped from her shoulder, leaning against her hip. The wound will scar her forever, and it will remind her of the day that d'Artagnan saved her life, but the fact did not haunt her. She knew that he would never ask for payment for his actions. Something inside of her told her that he was genuine and sincere. There was a knock at the door.

"Come in," she said in a low voice.

D'Artagnan came into her room and closed the door behind him. "How are you feeling?" he asked her.

"Better," she said and faced him. "I don't know how to thank…" but he stopped her.

"Don't worry about it," he said. "I'm glad that you are alive, Jacqueline."
Her brows creased and she looked at the door in concern. "D'Artagnan," she hushed her voice, the feminine tones apparent now. "In the musketeer headquarters, actually, from this moment on, I'm Jacque."

"No, you're not," d'Artagnan said, closing the distance between them. "You are Jacqueline Roget." He looked into her eyes, seeing the fiery young woman behind them. "I don't know how, but one day, we'll prove that you are no murderer. Then you won't have to run around in this… façade."

"D'Artagnan, that day will never come," Jacqueline said, feeling her heart sadden at the realization. Her eyes were now downcast, her hopes of ever becoming the woman she once was died long ago. "Unless Mazarin's hold on Louis is lifted, that day will never come for me." She felt a finger under her chin, lifting her face to meet his.

"Last night, I made a promise to you. I promised that nothing like this will ever harm you again. This very morning, I promised your father that I would care for you in his place, and now I make a promise to myself."

"And what would that be?" she asked, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks. They had not been this close since last night when he held her. D'Artagnan usually fooled around and was hardly ever serious about anything. Tonight, like last night, his guard melted away.

"I promise to myself, that before I die, I will liberate Louis from Cardinal Mazarin, so that you may become Jacqueline Roget once again," he said.

The tears came back. They fell from her eyes in crystal streams, rolling down her cheeks and chin. He wiped them away for the second time, mesmerized by the woman in front of him. He realized that she was everything he ever wanted in a woman. She was not one to fall prey to his charm, when in fact she rejected him every time he attempted to flatter her. She did not send fits of giggles his way when he flashed a dazzling smile. She was a perfect match to him.

"Promises are easily broken," she said in a quiet sob. She maintained to control her emotions for fear of one their friends walking through her door. "The king of England made that evident."
"I keep my promises," d'Artagnan assured her, holding her face in his hands. "By sealing them."

"With what?" she asked, skeptical and unconvinced.

He brought his lips to hers in a light kiss. It was not made to express his full sentiment for her, but it was made to do exactly what he meant. He made three promises to her. "With that, I promise you everything that I had said."

She felt his lips leave hers as quickly as they had been touched together. Her eyes met his, and for the first time, she understood him. A smile played across her lips. The feeling of loneliness was somehow lifted from her heart, and in place of it came a rush of comfort and reassurance. If she had to share her burden of becoming Jacque Laponte, she could not have chosen a better person. Suddenly, her life seemed more bearable.

Another knock was heard at the door, and the two separated quickly. Ramon's head poked into Jacque's room. "Excuse me, you two, but we are needed in the king's palace," he said.

"Are you able to attend, Jacque?"

Jacque pretended to be highly concerned with her left side, testing her flexibility and such. "I think I can manage… what's that smell?" she began sniffing the air.

"Oh! My apologies," Ramon said. Then they realized that his arms were full of boxes of Val de Bleu.

"Ramon," d'Artagnan groaned.

"Sorry, sorry," the Spanish musketeer said and walked on.

"Shall we?" d'Artagnan asked.

Jacque nodded and both exited her room. D'Artagnan trailed one step behind Jacque. She had become a man again, putting up the act to fool their friends and all of France. He was certain that she felt the same way towards him, but she could not admit it. The issue was not fully out in the open, but it was there. D'Artagnan would rather die than let his emotions be the death of her. One little slip up could send her to the gallows. They would have to be patient, but one day he vowed that will all change. When that day comes, he could openly hold her in his arms and shower her with kisses. When that day comes, he decided that would he tell her that he loved her with every bit of his soul, and he knew that she would tell him the same.

All right you guys, that's it for the first fanfic! Thanks so much for reading. I hope I do the series justice. See you again!

Kriss