All for One and One for All

[moffnat]

The loud gasp that would have left Anne's mouth was captured by her lover's, and together they plummeted into the field of sin and adultery. Her back arched towards Aramis's embrace and her lips parted in a soft moan that escaped her just between kisses and loving touches. The queen latched to him and whimpered with each thrust and each push as they increased in speed and frequency. "Aramis!" she gasped, wrapping her legs around his waist even tighter to pull him closer and keep him locked in a position where he could access the depths of her easily.

Her lips crashed with his again and the sighs and moans and groans escalated. Anne gripped him tightly as she raised her hips to meet his. Anne sighed his name over and over, never convinced it was enough. Despite her composed demeanor only moments ago, the sensitivity of pregnancy had driven her to want him more than she ever had before, and Anne found herself whispering pleads for more.

Athos looked at her in complete astonishment, his mouth slightly agape. "You what?" He didn't know whether to laugh or be angry, to chuckle or to clench his fists. All this time he had been suffering inwardly over an act he was innocent of, an event that hadn't in fact actually happened. He looked to Ninon's face and then to the hat, then to her face again, eternally confused as if she given him some sort of dangerous riddle that was impossible to figure out.

Athos sighed, then gave the smallest hint of a blush. "Ah," he told her shyly. "I see. Well." He scratched the back of his neck and broke into a series of little chuckles. "I suppose that is a relief, then?"

Right?

The musketeer looked into the fire and accepted his hat back from Ninon gratefully. "I'm sorry that I came to you in a drunken stupor in the first place, countess. As much as it seems to have amused you, it was terribly rude of me and I'm sorry that I was foolish enough to choose your home out of so many others." Athos offered her a brief, genuine smile. "Forgive me, and I shall forgive you in turn."​

 

[Erranruin]

So sweet and so responsive, Anne arched and writhed gloriously under his hands and body, her movements as her insides clenched and shuddered around him driving him into deeper and wilder movements. The way she called his name shot strikes of pleasure down his spine and her desperate pleas pushed him even further into more relentless thrusts. Aramis was breathing heavily, his heart and breath parallel with the convulsions of his body. He kissed her hard, desperately, his tongue pressing into her mouth with strength, much more dominating in the way he arched over her and held her against him. "Oh Anne, my Anne," He murmered her name against her lips, at her ear, proclaiming her beauty and his desire for her in a thrumming voice whilst pounding her into the mattress. He could feel his peak closing in, but he held back, determined to bring her completion first.
​

A smile! Well now it had all been certainly worth it. Athos's smiles were few and rare and precious, like some of the beautiful flowers Ninon had pressed in books about her manor. She smiled back at him with relief and delight, unendingly glad that this escapade had come to a positive conclusion. It was also rather enjoyable to catch him off guard, she was sure his cheeks had taken a bit of colour for a moment there. A victory in any sense of the word.

"Well then, I suppose I shall have to forgive you!" She laughed lightly and reached down to take his arm, silently encouraging him to rise and stand beside her next to the fire. Suddenly he was towering over her once again, making her look up and see his rugged and soulful face gazing down at her whilst his broad shoulders seemed to encompass her whole body. She released a small breath at the shiver is sent down her spine and she had to blink rapidly to hurry away the slight daze he caused in her mind. She was aware she was blushing, her whole body was a little warm, but she didn't mind and simply allowed herself to smile affectionately up at him.

"But that said, I would like it if out of all those other houses, you chose mine a second time. It was truly no bother and I enjoyed your company, drunken stupor or no." There was a moment, and then, impulsively, she quickly leaned up to place a soft kiss on his cheek, her grip on his arm tightening a little to pull him closer. She leaned back eventually but did not exit his space, reminiscent of the first kiss they had shared, though he had said he would be more prepared next time. Obviously he had not been prepared enough. "Remember to call on me when you can, perhaps even when sober!" Ah she was a little cruel, but it was so easy to play with Athos and it brought her such joy, she wanted to see all the variety of expression he could make since sullen and annoyed seemed to be the only ones he showed.

 

[moffnat]

There was no stopping the escalated sensations rippling through her core and under her skin, through every nerve and inch and atom. Her body gripped every bit of Aramis that she could possibly find and held onto him as if it would save her, bring her some sense of grounding, but in that moment her reasonings were for neither of those things. Her muscles clenched and released and clenched again and her breath was gasping, her whispered words of love barely audible through the moans that floated from her throat. Anne rode out her climax, matching the movements of his hips and allowing him to take all of her as far as he dared, as far as he wanted. As far as she wanted.

It took nearly a minute for her body to calm from the storm Aramis had raged. Despite the exhaustion and utter bliss of aftershock that took over, Anne continued to move in the ways that he liked most and giggle teasingly, hoping to draw him out into her and break his strong, knightly resolve.

"Aramis," she sighed lovingly. "Aramis, please..."

"Especially when sober," Athos added with a little grin. Despite the seemingly gleeful end of the conversation, however, Athos made no attempt to leave the Countess's home or her company. He looked into her eyes a moment and cleared his throat, looking away a moment and chuckling to himself.

Well, he thought, I might as well give in.

"Perhaps I could stumble by tomorrow evening?" Athos inquired, looking down to her once again with a little smile that shone in his eyes. "I promise I won't be drunk this time."

It was no secret that Countess Ninon de Larroque was one of the most beautiful and desirable women in France, a single, rich person always was, but Athos admittedly had no interest in the money or the lands she held. He enjoyed her company, he liked the way her laugh sounded and how her golden hair seemed to curl naturally. Was it reaching too high to seek her friendship, to secretly want something a bit more than that? Since he had left 'Milady de Winter' behind his draw to Ninon had been stronger than ever--the chains that bound him were broken, and he was free to follow his heart.

Only, he wasn't sure how good of a thing that was.​

 

[Erranruin]

Good God, to think this is a sin.. how could anyone think such a thing. As Anne's walls clenched around him and he felt her body go taut underneath him, he swore he was closer to heaven than ever. He valiantly endeavoured to ride her through her climax, holding himself back from the edge with the endurance of a rock. But there was no resisting Anne's voice, Anne's pleas, really there was no resisting Anne full stop. He thrust forward once more, burying himself deep inside of her before he finally relented to his own orgasm. His body twitched with each aftershock and he groaned out his release against her neck, his breathing heavy and hot but slowing as they both spiraled down from the high.

He kept himself from collapsing onto her with shakey arms, pulling out of her gently with a small groan and falling to the side. He only took a few breaths before reaching out and gathering Anne against him, grinning with happy satisfaction. "So, am I still a chivalrous fool?"​

Her face visibly brightened. First of all because he didn't immediately flee her company or touch. He had come into the solar in the foulest of moods and now he was smiling down at her and remaining in her company of his own free will. That, and he was asking to see her again! So much progress in a short time. She was very pleased. Where Athos may be dancing around the idea of love, Ninon was very clear with herself and her goals. Athos was someone she was most definately in love with and she was rather sure he felt the same. Perhaps they could be good friends, but truly she wanted more from him, she wanted him to love her properly, to show it.

Baby steps.

"I will expect you at eight then! And I promise you will be at least tipsy on the way home." If you go home that is. Perhaps the timing wasn't the best for that, Athos had certainly seemed horrified by the idea before. But! Perhaps not. All would be revealed in time. Mainly she was just excited to spend some more quiet and gentle time with her Musketeer.

 

[moffnat]

Anne was still catching her breath when Aramis pulled her close to his chest, and she was surrounded in the scent and the strength and the feel of him once more. He sighed into her hair and she traced little shapes on his skin with her fingertip, lost in the aftermath of their love and affections. She always loved curling up in his arms. It was the ultimate feeling of safety and protection that no royal guard or fortified castle wall could provide.

"You'll always be a chivalrous fool," Anne told him with a little chuckle as she craned her neck to look up at him. "But you're my chivalrous fool, and that's all that matters." She leaned up and kissed him softly, once, twice, enough to satisfy how much she wanted to show her love before burying into his hold once again.

They couldn't lay there long. Louis would no doubt be waiting for his swordmaster to teach him new tricks with a blunt wooden stick, and as much as Anne waned her son to learn the ways of the sword she wanted to hold her lover close just a bit longer. She moved forward and kissed his neck and nestled herself there, content to breathe him in for as long as time allowed them.

"Eight? I can do that. Though I admit, I'm not the best when it comes to fashion. I fear you will outshine me, as always." Athos gave a soft chuckle as he broke his trance staring deep into Ninon's eyes, moving toward the door with as much strength as he could muster. He wondered briefly if the Cardinal had been right in his original twisted assumption that she was indeed a witch, and Athos had been cast helplessly under her spell.

"I will bring you a gift, then. Red or white?" He opened the door for himself and reluctantly let go of the countess's arm, standing in the doorway with his hat on his chest once more, though his stature was much more relaxed and forgiving than it had been only moments ago. "I have far too much wine in my home. I wouldn't mind bringing some for you and your girls, should it please you."

I will have to find her another gift as well. Ninon didn't seem like the kind of woman to be wooed by alcohol. But where would he find expensive tomes or ancient literatures, priceless artifacts of the world's impeccable history? Perhaps wooing her would be harder than he thought.​

 

[Erranruin]

Aramis hummed in pleasure at her light affectionate touches, nuzzling back and threading his fingers into her soft hair whilst letting his fingers trail down to rest on her belly. "I suppose I shall accept the title, since I love you." The child inside of her was still moving to feel, making Aramis sigh in contentment and pleasure as her warm body was nestled so close to him. At these moments he was at his most contented, it was when he left her room that things became difficult and his heart ached. He may be happy with his lover and their child right now, but Aramis knew he would never get more than an offhand relationship with his child. That hurt, but there was nothing to be done.

He began to feel himself drift into a doze, not true sleep but just close enough to it to forget the encroaching time when he would have to leave her. It was such a strange existance to live in, when in public he could not even look at her for too long and yet alone he could touch her and have her in the most intimate ways. He sighed and turned his head to kiss the crown of hers, closing his eyes and leaving his lips there, pressed into her hair.
​

Ninon was rather unaware just how long she had been staring into Athos's eyes until he broke the gaze. Her eyelids fluttered afterwards and she let a small pleased smile blossom on her lips as his chuckle could be felt vibrating down his arm. Hah! What an adorable sentiment. He fears she will outshine him? Of course she will! It would be very rude if he managed to outshine her, and a definate mark against her ability. She would never allow such a thing to happen. But that was not something to be spoken out loud. Walking to the door allowed her to examine his face in profile, a majestic and lionine spectacle, a strong roman nose, a jawline that invited a caress... she should be focusing on what he was saying.

The sudden absence of his arm in her own was unsettling, she had to restrain herself from reaching out to catch it once again. She held her hands elegantly over her abdomen, mimicing his manner whilst also giving them something to do other than touch him. "Hmm, I would have had to scold you for suggesting that my own cellar is not sufficiently stocked! But happily for you we are, in fact, running low at the moment. Aren't you lucky Sir Athos? White, if you please, and not too dry." Her words were mighty and sharp. She held her head high, her neck extending elegantly and her eyes running over his frame critically, until she abandoned her cruel jesting and laughed lightly against her fingers. She took a sweeping step forward, her hand closing around the doorhandle and opening it a little, using this as an excuse to breach his personal space again and look up at him, her bosom less than an inch from his chest. From here it was easy to see her breathing was still just a little elevated, her chest rising and falling in the tight constrains of her bodice.

"But, being honest, I am making dinner for you, not your wine, so don't trouble yourself over much on it. Your company is a gift on its own, Athos." She breathed his name in a soft and affectionate voice, smiling up at him with a golden warmth that matched the shining gold of her rivulets of hair that fell gently into the hollow of her cleavage.

 

[moffnat]

Raucous laughter echoed throughout the small space of their favorite local tavern, following the end of a rather ridiculous story about three woman slaying a giant in the middle of the ocean. It had been a humorous tale, paralleling the three women to various noblewoman and the giant to the Spanish king, and D'Artagnan had laughed despite the inappropriate notions that some of the narrative had led the mind. Naturally it was something Porthos and himself would enjoy. When the laughter had settled once more, D'Artagnan set his mug atop the small table and waved over the bar maid to ask politely for another.

It had been a day since their return to Paris. D'Artagnan could not have missed it more. While the calls of Musketeer duty often got his adrenaline running and kept the excitement alive in his job, one of his most treasured parts of being a King's man were low-key nights with his three best friends. Aramis was off training Prince Louis at the palace and Athos had claimed to have an "important meeting" with the Countess de Larroque, so it was only himself and Porthos occupying their usual spot in the back of the bar. But, of course, that made it no less enjoyable. Porthos was the funniest and most amusing of all the musketeers and it brought an almost constant smile to D'Artagnan's face to be around him. Even sipping a third round of ale and sitting across from his titan's form made him feel the same sense of friendship as always.

"So," D'Artagnan stated after a few moments had passed since the end of the humorous uproar. "Porthos. What do you think of our new friend, Katarina Beaumont?" By the looks on his companion's face he had been thinking about her quite a lot, and D'Artagnan was determined to get the scoop. "Very beautiful, hm?"

God, did he ever feel like a rusty old man. It was complicated to accurately express all the thoughts going on in his mind as he struggled to find something to wear, something to bring, something to say. Things really shouldn't be the difficult. He felt like an ancient child, ready to put forth all his effort but knowing that such could create endless problems, problems that he had experience before. It was hard not to think of his wife in moments like this, with the ever looming fear that something terrible would occur and spoil his chances to find love beyond despair. But if his conversations with Aramis were anything to go by, he would have to throw those things aside in favor of a new life, a new woman. A better woman. Or was he simply getting ahead of himself?

He exited the barracks in his typical musketeer attire, realizing only too late that he hadn't any nice clothes to wear for dinner with a countess. He stopped by a local florist and gathered a small bouquet of pink roses that he thought she would like, naturally ignoring the small row of forget-me-not's, and paid a little extra for them and insisting that the florist keep the change. Athos was in a generous spirit, so contrary to his typical demeanor, but he felt it was a nice and appropriate change.

Athos came upon the door to Ninon's great manse in the middle of the city, clearing his throat in case the lump affected the tone of his masculine voice, and he lifted a calloused fist to knock softly on the great pearl doors. After what felt like hours, a young maid no older than fourteen answered the door, blushed, and gestured for him to enter.

Are they all so suspicious of me?

"May I take your hat, sir?" the girl asked.

"Of course." He removed it himself and offered it to her, along with his cloak, but not the pink bouquet. "Is there a vase I might set these in?"​

 

[Erranruin]

Strangely enough, that was exactly what Porthos had been thinking at that very moment. He had watched the play, roared out a burst of his signature laughter and slapped the table in humour, and then suddenly his thoughts had turned swiftly to Katarina. It was such a strange thing, he had no idea why, his mind had made so many random connections from the play to the woman that he couldn't even remember how he got there. But now he was sitting there staring at his drink and thinking about Katarina. How her hair glowed with golden highlights against its warm brown in the sunlight, how she laughter like a running river, how she moved with a light and excitable grace, how she smiled with a hidden intelligence and mischief. She was captivating. He took a sudden drink, which was exactly the moment D'Artagnan decided to broach the subject.

Porthos began choking in surprise and took a moment to cough up his guts before wiping his mouth and beard of cheap beer and glaring over his gauntlet at D'Artagnan. He certainly loved the boy, he was such a hell raiser and so young and reckless, Porthos felt this sense of elder brother affection for him. Didn't mean the lad couldn't catch him off guard at the most inopportune moments.

Porthos cleared his throat and rubbed his jaw pensively, trying to regain some composure. He opened his mouth, about to play off his nonchalance about her appearance, try to express a sense of apathy and carelessness. But one look at D'Artagnan told him that was pointless, so he just sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Hurrgm, that obvious, huh? You're too sharp for your own good, yah know!"
​

The girl was about to speak when Ninon herself rounded a corner and came into her parlour. Surprisingly, Ninon had had a little bit of trouble of her own. Usually she was very quick and certain with her choices of dress for any occasion, but this time somehow she found herself frowning at her mirror a lot. She tried at least four different outfits before settling her mind and forcing herself to choose. So she entered Athos's presence in a beautiful deep blue dress, a colour that suited her well, trimmed with small hints of gold to match her hair. It was a softly falling dress, not heavy but light on her frame and of a silk made material. As she came upon the sight of her Musketeer, still clad AS a Musketeer, she grinned in satisfaction. Truly he actually looked best in this attire, it suited him the most.

She turned to the girl first. "Thank you Louise, I can take care of our Musketeer from here." Another blush, accompanied by a giggle, and the girl had curtsied her way out, hanging up Athos's effects in the coat room on her way. Ninon turned to her guest with a bright smile, glancing down at the blush pink roses held in his war-scarred gloves and against his burned and bruised leather jacket. He made a fine contrast, it was both amusing and very sweet. She leaned down, cupping a head of one flower lightly in her hand to take in their pleasant scent before humming in pleasure.

"Rosa Gallicanae, thank you, they are actually a favourite of mine. You really do have the finest luck, Athos." She said as she rose to look up at him once more, her expression a smile of knowing and perhaps a little mischief. "Did I hear you ask for a vase? There is one at the table. I trust you had a good day?" She took his arm and began leading him towards their table.

 

[moffnat]

"What?" D'Artagnan chuckled, leaning back in his wooden chair to fold his arms across his chest. "That's all you have to say? You're usually much more devoted to the subject of women than that, Porthos. I admit, I'm a tad disappointed." It was a clear tease. He grinned across the table at his dark companion and raised his brow, expectant of an answer. The bar maid brought them both a refill of their mugs of ale and D'Artagnan willingly took his, eyeing his friend over the rim of his cup.

They had only been in Paris for a day, yet the it had been a week long trek from Toulouse and in that time, Porthos and Katarina had grown close. It was no secret that the two had been smitten with each other and it had become the running joke of the other three musketeers, that Porthos had wooed a Spanish maid and the two would soon go galloping off into the sunset. But all jokes aside, he seemed to truly care about Katarina as he showed on their journeys. As he showed now.

"Why not go see her?" D'Artagnan asked seriously. "She's not married. You're not married. You like her. She likes you." He looked up to Porthos with a simple smile. "It all adds up, mate. You've got nothing to lose!"

Ninon was absolutely stunning, and Athos had expected no less. He wished then that he had come in more appropriate clothing--she was a countess after all, and he was a count. The least he could do was dress the part, but as it didn't seem to matter to her he kept his resolve the same. Perhaps she enjoyed his soldier clothes. Athos wasn't sure how to feel about that prospect.

"Rosa Gallicanae," he repeated slowly, unable to pronounce it as fluently as she had. "I should have known you'd have the scientific name sitting on the tip of your tongue." Athos walked with her to the table, which had been set only for two, and gently placed the bouquet in the center vase and arranging them so they looked more presentable. He then poured the water from the glass at his table setting into the vase to help the flowers freshen, and set the empty cup down where he had taken it.

Athos then pulled out the chair for Ninon to sit, ever the gentleman. "I had a fine day. Trained with D'Artagnan, had a few drinks earlier with Aramis and Porthos, took care of a few matters for the captain. Rather uneventful for the life of a musketeer, but not without it's merits." He sat at the table with all the manner he had been taught with as a child.

"And you, my lady?" he inquired. "I trust you had a good day as well? You seem in a very chipper mood, if you don't mind my observances."​

 

[Erranruin]

Porthos snorted and chuckled at his young friend's enthusiasm in his love life. But he could certainly see D'Artagnan's point, he was in the prime position to do something about his romantic problems. Just go and see the woman, it wouldn't take long to figure out how deep her attraction went with him. Honestly the thing that was stopping him most was that, whilst he certainly wanted her in all carnal ways possible, he also desired her romantically as well and he didn't know if that was a good idea. "You're actually right, I'm umming and urring like a fool. I'll take your advice!" He laughed again, threw his head back and downed the rest of his beer in one go.

This done, he turned back to D'Artagnan. "Well now that you've sorted out MY woman problems, how abouts I return the favour? Seen Constance lately?" Porthos and all the Musketeer's knew of the problem with Constance's husband and they all understood the problem for D'Artagnan, but that didn't stop them from trying to resolve it. Everyone could see Constance deserved better and that better was staring her right in the face. If only she would harden her heart a little and leave the bastard. It was a bad situation and it needed resolving.​

Well if it was a favourite of hers, surely she would remember the name... Then again she did have most of the botanical lists memorised by now so she would probably have been able to show off in a similar fashion with any other flower. Still his praise felt nice on her. She had been surprised by the wealth of his thoughtfulness when they had first spoken properly. He had brought the her attention her neglect of the greater populace of women in Paris. She may have catered to the closetted women of the aristocracy before, but now she had determined to help educate and support the women of lower classes as well. She understood that they would not appreciate high minded scientific discovery, but reading and writing could go very far and second languages even further. She could not imagine how she had been so thoughtless before. Athos had truly opened her eyes.

Taking her seat with a grateful smile, she leaned forward and linked her fingers as she listened to his answer of her question. Uneventful? How surprising! Perhaps the world would end? She was interested to hear his comments on her manner and mood. Yes she supposed she did feel rather happy at that moment. "Hm! Do I?" She gave him a long look with a mischievious smile, before cutting him off before he could make any further comment. "In actuality, my day was rather frustrating. I think I must have been named a witch three times before lunch, and then again after. More fathers complaining that I am corrupting their daughters with my heretic teachings. So, in that case, if I seem chipper it must be because of you sir!" At that point two of her butlers entered with the first course, laying it out beautifully in front of them. "Or perhaps I thrive of conflict?" She suggested, once the butlers had disappeared back into the kitchens.

 

[moffnat]

Ah, Constance. It was a delicate issue. D'Artagnan immediately soured in his expression, placing the mug back on the table and trying to wear a mask of complete indifference. It was near impossible to pull off such a task, especially not around his friends who knew him better than to hide how he truly felt. D'Artagnan was an emotional man. Hiding such obvious glimpses into his character wasn't something easily done, yet still he tried for the sake of his heart. He didn't want to talk about Constance. Not now, not ever.

And yet, she was all he really wanted to talk about.

"No," D'Artagnan stated simply. "I haven't seen her. Her husband keeps her all cooped up like a songbird or something, I can never catch a glimpse of her. I'm not sure that I want to." Missing the promises of ale, he picked up the mug once more and brought it to his lips for a long drink. "I miss her, though. I miss her more than anything." Ah, the dangers of being in love with a married woman. But I should have known that before I so stupidly told her how I felt, and maybe we would have avoided all this heartbreak. At least I would have still been able to see her, to hear her laugh.

Athos gave a great sigh and a frown, hearing of her troubles amidst the other members of the nobility. She had been plagued by names and cruel japes ever since that 'witch' incident so many months ago, and despite the length of time that had passed the jokes and name-calling never seemed to cease. He wished there was something he could do about it, but sadly there was not. The only thing keeping her from a public beating was the Queen's favor, no doubt--the two had become thick as thieves since the false accusations had arisen, and it was because of that Ninon had seen all her wealth and status returned to her. Athos would hate to think what would have become of her should Queen Anne have turned a blind eye.

I suppose I should admire what that idiot Aramis sees in her.

But Athos didn't want to think about the queen, as kind, beautiful and benevolent as she was. He had his eyes on a new set of company, and it certainly wasn't the food immediately laid out before them as delicious as it appeared.

"Why do you let them curse you?" he inquired politely, pouring himself a glass of deep red and sipping carefully. "If you want, I could escort you certain places and keep their tongues in check, should they offend you. I can't imagine being called 'the devil's wife' is meant as an encouragement."

Fool, he thought suddenly, she wouldn't want a man's protection, wouldn't need it. "I mean, if you so desire. I would hate to intrude."​

 

[Erranruin]

[BCOLOR=transparent][/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Ah it broke Porthos's heart to see the lad so torn up. Things had seemed to be going so well too. Constance and he had such a sweet relationship, all of the brothers had given it a seal of approval and would certainly do anything for either of them. But this... this wasn't something that could be so easily fixed. Still, didn't mean Porthos wouldn't try.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"Go and see her. We can find a way to get the bastard out of the house." Porthos reached over and grasped the young man's shoulder in a warm grip, leaning close and trying to get his point across. "Aramis says he saw her the other day, meloncholy was the word he used. Miserable says I. She needs you. Just say the word and we'll give you two time." And Porthos meant it, whatever the three elder men could do for their young brother, they would do it. All for one, right? There was no way they were leaving the situation as it was.[/BCOLOR]
​

[BCOLOR=transparent]Athos was, at his core, the greatest gentleman. And yet this seemed to make him trip up so much. It was so amusing to watch him run himself into circles without her even having to say a word. In truth, she did not mind men being gallant, it would be nice to have a person to shield her from such comments. She had work to do and having to fend off enraged catholics did slow down her tasks.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"Hm, I do not think intruding is the problem. Are you saying, Sir Athos, that you can take hours out of your day just to guard me from foul words? Does your Captain Treville really give you so little to do?!" She laughed behind her hands before she began to gather her food together and start collecting together mouthfuls onto her fork. "Your concern for me is appreciated, but I think we both know you have more important things to do. Though, that is not to say that the idea of having you at my side most of the day, guarding and defending me from inscrupulous peoples and defending my honour with valiance, isn't a rather romantic or attractive concept…" She smiled at him, slow and comfortable in her environment.[/BCOLOR]

 

[moffnat]

"I wonder what overcomes us Musketeers," D'Artagnan thought aloud, "to fall in love so recklessly. Aramis has been acting very secretive lately as well, and the way he disappeared with the queen was a bit odd. I wonder if he has a lover in the palace, a noblewoman or something." He swirled the ale around in his mug, clearly wanting to take the subject off of Constance entirely but he knew that such a thing was impossible. Porthos was an insistent man. He would not drop the issue until D'Artagnan had give him an answer.

"You would really do that for me?" he inquired. "For her? She told me that it was just a 'beautiful dream', so I highly doubt she would want to entertain the thought of seeing me longer than a minute or so for a bit of conversation. She's changed. I don't want to interfere." The young musketeer took a long swig of his drink, setting it down on the oaken table again. "But you should go see Katarina. Unlike the rest of us, you have a chance at a life with her if that's what you want. She seemed interested enough, right? It's about damn time one of us was happily married, perhaps wives would make us less inclined to be so stupid." He chuckled despite the honesty of his words.

Athos couldn't help but laugh. "Well, there are these wonderful things called 'days off'. They're rare enough, only applicable when the king and country aren't in any eminent danger, but on the few that I receive every month I would be delighted to fulfill your 'attractive' and 'romantic' fantasies about having a musketeer follow you around all day, defending your honor."

Not that her honor needed defending. In Athos's eyes, Ninon was the most honorable woman he had ever met.

Breaking the conversation for only a moment, the musketeer sipped at his wine and tried the delectable food before him, commenting offhandedly about the various spices he tasted in the mix and guessing at the secret ingredients in each course. The dinner conversation was just as excellent as the dinner itself, and by the time the servant was removing their empty plates from the table Athos was amidst a stint of laughter after having reiterated one of the many events where Porthos had been drunk and done something incredibly inappropriate.​