All For Love

Chapter 3: Discharged

Chapter 3: Discharged

Disclaimer: Don't own the Three Musketeers much to my dismay.

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Medicine did not cure a broken heart. Only time. And as far as Antoinette knew, Athos and time were not on matching terms. Athos, the strong leader of the Musketeer trio, held nothing but cold feelings for Milady. Underneath all the bravado on the journey back, Antoinette could see the shards dislocated by the cruel numb hand of hers.

But talking to Athos was out of the question.

He was not made for sentiments. So, Antoinette relied on his brothers to steady his mind for her.

The day-long symptoms gave much time in the darkness to think. First of betrayal from their companion. How long had she known the plans would be dropped off to him? Yesterday? A week? A month when preparations were made? Next, the scum Lord Buckingham and his kind whom always seem to be a step above all the rest of Europe. With the drawings of a war machine in the hands of the British, France was a powder keg away to be destroyed within herself.

Lastly Antoinette bothered to shame herself with her father's letter. This wasn't how it was suppose to end up. She imagined the plan executed perfectly, Aramis and her would celebrate in their own ways without interruption, and a victorious return home proving to her father Aramis and she could take care of theirselves without sovergnity protections.

But that was just a fool's ending. Not all endings have to be happy, and hers was certainetly not.

They hitched a gypsy caravan from Venice to the French border. Past the border, they rode hard and long two days before stopping at a local inn for the night. It was there the first accusation was brought up by Athos.

The bar was half full with few occupants drowsy from their liquid. The quartet moved to a shadier side of the bar, away from whispering ears and squeals of bar maids entertaining their customers.

Athos and Porthos occupied one side of the table with two mugs each at their sides. Antoinette settled for a glass of white wine. Her partner traced the rim of his exported beer mug effortlessly.

Athos roused her out of her thoughts. "Did you know she would have done this?" he interrogated.

Her eyes narrowed as she sipped the remaining of her wine. "I know about as much as you do, Athos,"

His hand twitched a tighter grip around the tankard handle. "Oh yes, because you women don't keep secrets between the two," He laughed sardonically.

"Leave her be, friend. I'm sure the bottom of the well will keep your mind at ease," Porthos gestured the ale in his hand.

"So my best intentions were leading up to five years all for this?" Antoinette drawled. She steadied her wine on the table and fished her eyes towards the ring leader of the troupe. Athos didn't hesistate to finish off his beer. His greedy gulps were fervent to fire up his temper.

"I wouldn't know," he pondered. "Wouldn't be the first time a mastermind has befuddled our plans,"

"Athos," Aramis intervened.

Antoinette's hand pushed away the wine. Intoxication would not allow her to win this duel. "Perhaps if you weren't distracted by her backside you would see the trail of footprints she left," she accused.

"Antoinette," Porthos bantered.

"Tell me, were you the reason Aramis left the Church in order to pursue you?" Athos shoved his chair back to eye her down. Her face profused red, but not from the heat or the escalating blood alcohol levels. She suppressed the memories surfacing from beneath locked deposit boxes. As her knuckles shed white, her throat tightened.