Chapter Text
I remember once Porthos punched me in the stomach, toppling me over and knocking the wind out of me. That's how I feel now. How on earth could this have happened? His name was in just one time. The odds had been entirely in his favour. But none of that mattered.
Aramis and Porthos are in complete and utter shock, they are both grey faced and their mouths hang open. I can see Treville out of the corner of my eye, his head bowed.
And finally, I see d'Artagnan making his way to the stage. Only twelve years of age. He is too young for this kind of ordeal. His father is only dead six months, and Aramis, Porhtos, Treville and I are all he has left. He was terrified of the thought of these games for months. I had always been the one to calm him, telling him over and over 'It's your first year, your name's only been in there once, they won't pick you.'
I can only imagine how he feels, to have the shreds of hope I gave him turn to dust.
Just as he reaches the stage, Richleu's hand held out for him, I snap to my senses. I begin pushing my way through the crowd, although they move away for me.
'D'Artagnan!' I call 'D'Artagnan!' Peacekeepers push me back, but I shove against their firm grip.
'I VOLUNTEER!'
Finally, the Peacekeepers release me. I can see d'Artagnan's eyes beg me to go back, but I will not abandon him.
'I volunteer as Tribute,' I pant. Finally, I run to d'Artagnan, placing my hands firmly on his shoulders.
'Athos, you can't go!' he begs, tears in his eyes.
'D'Artagnan, just go, please,' I tell him, trying to hide my shaking voice. He shakes his head and clings to me.
'No.'
'Please, I'm so sorry, but you have to go back.'
'NO!'
It's Porthos who lifts him off me. He gives me a slight nod, and Aramis taps my shoulder. D'Artagnan is still screaming
'NO ATHOS NO! YOU CAN'T GO PLEASE!'
I can't bare to look back at him, but I do. Porthos has put him down, but still has a firm grip on d'Artagnan's shoulder. Porthos and Aramis give me small nods of encouragement. Treville looks at me with what seems like a mixture of gratitude and...fear? And finally, d'Artagnan looks at me, begging me to let him go instead.
But I can't. I've already lost one brother to the Games. I won't lose another.