Adélie (A Three Musketeers 2011 Fanfiction)

Injuries Mended

At the campfire, Aramis and Porthos had dragged all the bodies away, and had cleaned it up a bit. "Aramis," was all Athos said as he strode in the light. He laid Adélie on the ground as close to the warmth of the fire as possible. "She's been hurt."

Spotting the dark stain of blood on D'Artagnan's shirt, Porthos grabbed the young man's shoulders. "My god, lad, are you all right?" he demanded in concern.

"I'm fine," D'Artagnan said, trying wave him away. "There's not a scratch on me. This is all from Adélie."

Giving the young Gascon a quick check, Porthos nodded and turned. Aramis was on his knees leaning over the small child. Athos had grabbed a knife and was cutting through the ropes that bound Adélie's hands together. D'Artagnan hurried over. "What do you need?" he asked. "Will she be all right?"

"My saddlebags," Aramis answered, glancing up. He pressed his handkerchief against the wound, trying to slow the bleeding. "It looks worse than it is, but I'm going to have to sew this shut before she loses too much blood."

Swiftly, D'Artagnan darted off into the trees. Crouching down, Porthos got his first good look at his friend's daughter. Her feet were bare and the plain brown dress she wore was short. Half of her face was covered with blood, but still with her dark wavy hair framing her face, Porthos thought he could see something of Athos in her. With three men leaning over her, the child looked impossibly tiny.

Carefully, Athos cut the gag and pulled it from the girl's mouth. He brushed Adélie's cheek, a move Porthos had only seen him use with D'Artagnan when the boy was ill or injured. "What do you need me to do?" Porthos asked, looking at Aramis.

"Hold her down in case she wakes up," Aramis said, glancing from Athos to Porthos. "I hope she doesn't, but we can't be too careful."

Nodding, Porthos grasped the girl's ankles and Athos moved his hands down to hold the Adélie's arms. D'Artagnan returned, and dropped the saddlebags next to Aramis.

"D'Artagnan, I'm going to need a little more light, and then I want you to hold her head still," Aramis instructed, searching in his bags. He drew thread and a needle, and threaded the needle. He paused. "I've never had to do this to a child before."

There was no mistaking the uncertainty in his voice. "There's no one else," Athos said, his tone gruff. "I know you can do this, Aramis."

D'Artagnan tossed some more wood on the fire. He then knelt beside Aramis. Carefully, he took the girl's head between his hands, holding her like she was made of glass. Porthos could agree; the girl felt like the slightest pressure would make her bones snap.

Taking a deep breath, Aramis went to work. Porthos couldn't watch. If it had been any of his friends, he could have born it. But this was a five year old little girl. Looking everywhere else but the wound being closed, Porthos noticed that his friends were having the same issue. Athos was staring out at the woods as if keeping watch, and D'Artagnan was staring over Aramis' head at the fire.

Maybe if they had been watching they would have been ready when Adélie woke up. As it was, Porthos was startled when one foot slipped from his grasp and slammed against his jaw. It was enough to knock him off balance. Landing on his rear end, Porthos watched in astonishment as the girl yanked her right hand free of Athos' grip and swung at Aramis.

"Adélie," Aramis exclaimed, pulling back. He tried not to yank on the thread. "Adélie, it's all right!"

Adélie's eyes were wide with pain and fear as she continued to struggle. Her chest heaved and her nostrils were flared as she breathed quickly. But through it all, she didn't make a sound.

"Adélie, it's me!" D'Artagnan said, trying to keep her head still. "Its D'Artagnan and Aramis. We're not going to hurt you!"

"Adélie, that's enough," Athos said, with that authoritative note in his voice. He grasped the girl's hand and forced it down. "Hold still."

Porthos wasn't really surprised to see Adélie freeze, her eyes going to Athos' face. That particular tone had been used on more people than Porthos could count, even a couple times on himself. He was amused to see that D'Artagnan had also gone still, probably out of habit.

"Adélie, you're safe now," Aramis spoke to the girl, his tone calm and soothing. "I'm just going to finish, all right? I know it hurts but it has to be done."

Leaning forward, Porthos grabbed her legs again, his grip a little firmer this time. "And I can finish the story, Adélie," D'Artagnan said, his tone cheerful. Adélie shifted her gaze to him, still very tense. "Where'd I leave off? Oh, yeah. I was just getting to Porthos' part of the fight, wasn't I?"

As D'Artagnan began to relate Porthos' part in the fight with the cardinal's guards, Aramis went back to his task. Keeping her gaze on D'Artagnan's face, Adélie's eyes glistened with tears. Porthos could feel her starting to tremble, though whether it was from fear or shock setting in he couldn't tell.

"There," Aramis finally said, interrupting D'Artagnan's description of Buckingham's airship. He cut off the excess thread. He pulled a clean shirt out and tore a strip off it. He lifted Adélie's head and wrapped the cloth around her head. "Now, I'll clean your face so you'll look like yourself again."

Athos let go of her at last, and Porthos noticed his friend's hands were shaking. Though they were no longer needed, they stayed by the child.

"Monsieur, I don't feel so well," Adélie whispered, speaking for the first time.

"I know, Adélie," Aramis answered, getting another piece of his shirt wet. He wiped her face clean of the blood. "How about I make you some place comfortable to lie down and you can go back to sleep?"

D'Artagnan helped Adélie sit up. Athos reached up, but he didn't actually touch her for the girl recoiled. "Adélie, I'd like you to meet Porthos and..." D'Artagnan hesitated, glancing at Athos. "And Athos. They fought the Cardinal's guards with me."

Adélie glanced between them but said nothing. She leaned against D'Artagnan, and closed her eyes. There as no denying the fact that Adélie trusted the young Gascon, and that D'Artagnan was quickly becoming attached to the girl.

"I don't know much about kids, but I'm fairly certain that's not normal behavior," Porthos remarked, unsettled by the silent child.

Aramis shook his head as he leaned back on his heels. "She's in shock," he said, though he also sounded concerned.

"No, she's small, she's been bullied before, and she's hurt," D'Artagnan corrected, putting his arm around the girl. "When you're small, you don't say or do anything, otherwise the bullies hurt you worse. It's one of the first things you learn," he added, very quietly.

Athos rose and walked to the edge of the camp. "And that's why she kicked me and tried to hit Aramis?" Porthos said in disbelief.

Chuckling, D'Artagnan shook his head. "We get our hits in when we can," he said.