Chapter Text
Set a few months after the events of the season one finale, Musketeers Don’t Die Easily.
“So we are agreed, then. A unified front to Louis against this ridiculous idea. A waste of men, firepower, not to mention the unconscionable assault on innocent citizens,” Treville said to Richelieu.
“To your first two points, I am in agreement, Treville,” the Cardinal replied. “How innocent many of the miscreants who infest the Court are is up for debate.”
“Be that as it may. I am not inclined to commit my men- nor should you be for you to commit yours- to such a morally questionable mission.”
“It unfortunately comes down to his majesty’s mood, and the day of the week, I’m afraid.”
“Despite the weather, we should never have taken that detour from the Palace the other day, allowing him a close glimpse of the Court. I suppose it makes sense that Louis’ reaction to the squalor would not be sympathy at the living conditions of his subjects, but a reaction akin to the smelling of something foul, which needs to be removed.”
Adding to the King’s distaste was the reaction to seeing him passing in his royal carriage; instead of the appropriate bowing and cheering, many leered at him, and some even hissed. It was unacceptable, and a bit unnerving. Treville even surmised that Louis’ subsequent suggestion after they returned to the Palace to vacate all of the Court’s citizens to somewhere outside of Paris proper had a lot to do with his having been frightened by their reaction.
When Treville and Richelieu both mentioned that ‘relocation’ would not be accepted peacefully by the Court residents, it was then that Louis suggested that armed Red Guards and Musketeers alike shoot to kill any protestors!
The plan had not yet progressed beyond the initial conversation, as both the Cardinal and Treville had first begged the King to reconsider, or at least sleep on it; they also asked that they confer first regarding logistics. They ended the discussion with yet another strong suggestion against the plan.
“This is so frustrating- needing to kowtow to a childish King whenever a new bee shows up in his bonnet,” Treville spat.
Richelieu offered a nod in assent and a small smile.
In truth, the last few weeks with the Cardinal had gone incredibly smoothly. It was to the point that each had openly shared their mutual gripes about the King, both coming dangerously close to treasonous words, such as Treville had just uttered.
It spoke to their newly found mutual trust and respect that each felt free to speak so candidly in front of one another. Loose lips, of course, can sink ships.
Garrison-
“Why is D’Artagnan standing on his head?” Porthos asked Athos.
“I hate to answer a question with a question, Porthos, but have you not met D’Artagnan? The more appropriate question might be, has he managed any sane activity today yet?”
Aramis, walking over from where D’Artagnan stood wrong-side up, walked over.
Seeing the quizzical looks on his brothers’ faces as they looked over to where their youngest was precariously perched, Aramis said, “I merely stated, after a particularly ridiculous comment from the boy, that his brain must be blood-deprived. I suppose he is trying to ameliorate the situation.”
Aramis then smiled. “In truth, he took recruit George up on a bet that he couldn’t balance himself upside down for five minutes.”
Porthos’ eyes went wide. “Is the wagerin’ over?!!?”
Just then, Treville called the Inseparables up to his office.
The Captain felt it expedient to bring his best men up to speed on the King’s plan for the Court. Even though it was not officially ordered yet, his concern over logistics, and any possible short timeframe that Louis might give once it was officially decreed, made him feel the need for proper coordination.
The Captain, to his credit, looked Porthos straight in the face during his mission description. The large Musketeer’s strained and stern countenance could not be missed.
Athos: “The munitions reserve is at full capacity, but if we were to do this- and I surely hope that cooler heads prevail, and we do not- then I suggest stealth. We should attack from the outskirts, slowly moving inward, in order to reduce communication, which would lead to them organizing and-“
“An’ by ‘them’ you mean the innocent men, women an’ children of the Court, correct?” Porthos interrupted. “An’ where are ya sendin’ them?”
“That also needs to be discussed-“
“How ‘bout the New World? THAT far away enough?!?”
“Alright, gentlemen; enough,” Treville said. “As I have said, nothing has been decided for certain yet. However if the order is given, we will need to caucus together to see how we can minimize injury and loss of life- on both sides.”
And with that, they were dismissed.
The mood was lightened- albeit ever so slightly- by the sight of D’artagnan, swaying back and forth on his two hands, keeling over and landing hard onto his behind, into the Garrison turf.