The Blood of Musketeers

Chapter 6 - Feelings

"Athos!" Aramis called out, as he ran after his friend. Athos just continuing on his way, until Aramis caught his arm and turned him around.

"What were you doing.......?"

"I was doing as I was told, Aramis. The captain wanted me to test the boy, so that is what I did........." Athos replied harshly, before pulling his arm away from his friend's hand.

"Test him.........? Athos, you looked like you wanted to kill him. Look at yourself. His blood is all over you. When you duelled d'Artagnan, you were never like that, you made sure that you didn't hurt him. Yet with young Fontin..........what do you have against him, Athos? The boy has done nothing to you. He helped us, Athos. We had no weapons, we were shackled and if not for him, I do not know how we would have gotten out of that situation. Yet instead of thanking him; instead of welcoming him, you've just made the boy bleed. I don't know what has happened to you. The Athos I know would be happy to mentor the descendant of the great Remy and Louis Fontin. To help him become the best Musketeer that he could be. But this Athos......I don't know this Athos, and I don't think I want to.........." Aramis said, Athos not missing the disappointed look in his friend's eyes. A sudden rush of guilt filling him, as he thought about what he had just done. Athos taking a seat on the edge on the stone water trough just behind him, before dropping his head into his hands.

Aramis was right. This.......this was not him. But the thing was, he couldn't explain his actions; none of them. Not the way that he had ignored the young Fontin since he had helped them, nor why he fought him so hard that he had injured him. It was all wrong, and he was painfully aware of it. And his old friend was right, he had not pushed d'Artagnan when they had duelled. He had gone out of his way not to hurt the young Gascon. And he was also right about the fact that he would normally be proud to mentor a Fontin. To have his name associated with the legacy of that family. To have Gabriel look to him for help and guidance. Yet here he was, the blood of the boy drying on his skin; and instead of congratulating him on his well fought victory and welcoming him as a brother, he had snubbed him once more. The boy just seeming to bring out the worst in him.

But then.......there it was........realisation. The fault was not with Gabriel, it was with him. What he felt towards the boy was not hate or anger, it was something different, very different, and Athos didn't know how to deal with it. In fact, it scared him; scared him so much that he had wanted to hurt the young Fontin for making him think and feel such things.

When he had staggered back to the barracks after getting drunk, his mind had been plagued by the younger man. There was a beauty about Gabriel that he had never seen in another man. And even though the young Fontin had looked at him with fire when he had suggested that their rescuer might have something to do with their captor, there had still been an unusual softness in his gaze. A softness that was so pleasing; a softness that had he seen it in a woman, he would have been instantly drawn to her, instantly wanting to protect her. But as it was, Gabriel was not a woman, he was the son of Musketeers, and should be treated as such. Athos telling himself that all this was something that he would have to learn to deal with, and hope that the thoughts and feelings that he was experiencing for and about the younger man, would fade with time. Or at least with distance. Athos feeling that it was better for all, if Aramis and Porthos were to take the young Fontin under their wings.

"I am sorry Aramis.........." Athos finally said, as he looked up at his friend.

"It is not me that you should be apologizing to, Athos. What has gotten into you.........?"

"I don't know............." Athos interrupted, as he got to his feet.

"There is just something about Gabriel that I cannot put my finger on; and until I can work things out, I want you and Porthos to take care of his training with d'Artagnan. The young Fontin deserves better than me..........." Athos continued; giving a still confused and concerned Aramis, a look, before quickly leaving his friend.

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"Lets see............." Porthos said, as he reached for Gabriel's arm. Gabriel finding it a little harder to refuse the big man, than she had Aramis. The young Fontin reluctantly holding out her arm for him to look at.

"That's deep. Ya should get Aramis to look at it............"

"No, no, I will be fine. I know about healing herbs, they will help........."

"There isn't a herb that will heal that, Gabriel. It needs ta be stitched. When Aramis gets back, ya gonna let him take care of it, right.........." Porthos quickly interjected. Gabriel looking to d'Artagnan for a little support, but only getting a smile and shrug in reply.

"Fine............" Gabriel replied with a heavy sigh. His agreement causing Porthos to give her a happy slap to the back.

"I have never seen anyone fight like you before. Did your grandfather and father fight like that too........?" d'Artagnan asked, taking a seat on the well wall next to Gabriel. Porthos taking a seat on the young Fontin's other side.

"Sort of. I spent my whole childhood watching both my father and grandfather, learning from them. I studied their every move, memorised their techniques; and I suppose that I just put both of them together and created my own style. That, and my father encouraged me to learn to dance, so there is a little of that in there too. He had seen the nobles dancing at court and thought it would help with my movements and footwork. He often said that fighting with swords was like a dance. A dance within which at one point you could lead, and then find yourself following, neither way necessarily being wrong. That it just meant that if you led, your actions would lead to your opponent following in a certain way, and vice versa. Though if you found yourself following, it was best to not do as your opponent expected. And I supposed that was what I did with Athos. He was leading, he made his attack, and would have expected me to follow in a particular way; when I didn't, it caught him off guard and I won........." Gabriel explained, as she pulled her arm to her chest. Suddenly realising that the cut was hurting more than she thought.

"Well, one thing's for sure. I don't think Athos will fall for that move, if you ever fight one another again." Porthos chuckled. Still not believing that he had seen the slight young man throw his friend over his shoulder with such apparent ease. The big man knowing there weren't many that could say that they had faced Athos when he appeared to be doing his best to win, and been victorious.

"Did ya find him............" Porthos called out, as Aramis came back into the courtyard.

"Sort of............" Aramis replied, giving Porthos a look, before turning his attention to Gabriel.

"Athos asked me to apologise for hurting you. To say that he is....trying to deal with some things at the moment, and that perhaps, for the time being, at least, it might be better if Porthos and I watched over your training. If that is alright with you............" Aramis continued. Knowing that Athos hadn't exactly apologised; but it might make Gabriel feel less like he was being persecuted by Athos, if he said he had.

"To be trained by you an Porthos, and to have d'Artagnan by my side will be a greater honour than I could have ever dreamed of........." Gabriel replied. Amazed that she had been in Paris for little more than two days, and her dream was already beginning to come true.

"Good, and now, the arm. Let Aramis stitch it." Porthos ordered, as he pulled a reluctant Gabriel to her feet. Putting his arm over the young man's shoulders, before following after Aramis and d'Artagnan to one of the barrack rooms.