The Blood of Musketeers

Chapter 8 - Punishment enough

Athos woke slowly; and if he didn't know better, he would swear that there was a cavalry change going on in his head. The last thing that he could remember was that he had been sitting in the tavern, on his............he couldn't quite recall what number bottle of wine; sure, that a man had said that the Cardinal's men were better than the Musketeers, to which he had of course taken offence. Then a few punches had been thrown; but after that...............nothing. Though he did have to admit that he smelt like he had fallen into a privy at some point in the night.

Carefully, he turned over; groaning as the sunlight hit his face. Grabbing for one of the pillows under his head and using it to shield his eyes. He couldn't remember going back to his room; but he was on a bed, so..........Athos reluctantly taking the goose feather filled pillow from his head, and sitting up; quickly deciding better of it, and choosing to turn on his side instead, as the cavalry charge turned into a full on war inside his skull. His eyes widening as he realised that not only was this not his room; but that there was something on the floor, under a blanket, that looked very much like a body. A sudden sinking feeling overriding the nausea in the pit of his stomach, as he wondered if he had done something terrible. But if he had, surly he would recall; and he wouldn't have fallen asleep in the same room, as someone he had killed.......... would he.........? Athos well aware that he had not been thinking straight these last couple of days; that he really hadn't been himself. But this..........no; it was not in him to kill unless it was out of duty. Unless it was for king and country. Athos gingerly pushing himself up onto an elbow before sitting up straight, and then swinging his legs over the side of the bed; his stocking covered feet hitting the floor. The Musketeer ignoring all the ill-effects of the alcohol he had consumed the night before, as he slowly made his way over the seemingly lifeless form.

"Non, papa, please. Just five more minutes, and then I will get up. I will train all day, I promise.........." A soft voice suddenly said, as Athos carefully pulled back the blanket. The Musketeer staggering backwards, as he realised who he was looking at. Gabriel shifting slightly on the floor, before seeming to settle again; Athos dropping himself back on the bed, having no idea how he had got to the young Fontin's room. No idea why he was on the bed, and the younger man was on the floor. No idea why God seemed to have taken against him and kept bringing he and Gabriel together.

As much as Athos just wanted to find his boots and leave. To get as far away from the young Fontin as he could; he was finding that he couldn't move, his eyes fixed on the boy on the floor. His voice had sounded much lighter when he had spoken, than it had before. And now looking at him, his features seemed to be even softer in the morning light, than they had done when he had looked at Gabriel previously. His brows furrowing as one of the young man's arms moved out from under the blanket, and he saw the torn shirt sleeve that was covered in dried blood. As he saw the wound that had obviously been neatly sewn back up by Aramis. Was that what he had done to the young Fontin during their fight? Athos not realising that he had done that much damage; but if Aramis had had to stitch it, then his blade must have gone much deeper into the boy's flesh than he thought. A sense of guilt filling him..........

"Athos..........?" A sleepy voice suddenly said, breaking the musketeer from his thoughts. Athos realising that Gabriel was now awake and sat up looking at him.

"How do you feel.................?" The young Fontin continued, before pushing back the blanket.

"How did I get here........?" Athos enquired gruffly. Changing the subject, as he got up from the bed and found his boots. Doing his best to not look at Gabriel as he got up from the floor and stretched. Gabriel deciding not to snap back at the man that she had helped; sure, that his hangover must be punishment enough.

"I went for a walk last night............"

"You went for a walk? By yourself, at night? Have you lost your mind......?" Athos barked, one boot half on, as he got to his feet and strode over to Gabriel.

"Yes. And what do you mean, have I lost my mind? I am perfectly capable of looking after myself. I was able to beat you, even after you cut my arm, if you don't remember. And it is lucky for you that I did go for a walk. You got thrown, unceremoniously, out of a tavern, and warned not to come back. You were in such a state that I doubt that you could even remember your own name; never mind anything else. I was able to get you back here, which I had no choice about, as I do not know where you room. And then I was kind enough to let you have my bed. All of which I know regret............And what gives you the right to speak to me like that? I am not your child, and you are not my father. Nor am I some girl that needs to be protected from the world........." Gabriel growled back, suddenly deciding that his hangover wasn't punishment enough. The two standing almost toe to toe, staring into one another's eyes.

"You know something. When I heard about you, and Aramis and Porthos; it was you I wanted to meet the most. You who I wanted to take over my training now that my father and grandfather are dead. I had thought that with your mentorship, I could truly achieve what I have always desired; to be a Musketeer. But what the last two days have shown me, is that you, Athos, the supposed great Musketeer, are nothing more than an ungrateful bully, and a drunk. Now get out............" Gabriel continued angrily, before making her way over to the door of her room; throwing it open and waiting for him to leave. Athos finding himself unable to do anything but pick up his boots and do as the young Fontin, wished.