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English
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Published:
2015-09-05
Completed:
2016-02-17
Words:
17,371
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18/18
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162
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The Gascon Boy

Chapter 2

Summary:

Athos almost exploded.

Porthos almost fainted.

And Aramis almost stopped functioning.

Almost.

Notes:

Hello!!!
I promised an update and alas! Here it is!!! Sorry its a little wishy washy, I've been suffocated with work today and finally came to the depressing conclusion that Summer has offically ended...and it hurts!!!
But anyway...I have a third chapter completed already and I'm half way through the fourth...so updates should keep coming!!! (Hopefully!)
Thank you for all your support and kudos, it really, really, really makes my day! Hope you enjoy this chapter, and once again - I'm sorry it's not the best.
All my love,
Calon.
xxx
Please read notes at the end if you're a little confused!

Chapter Text

The court was unnaturally quiet. The usual bubbling of chatter and ringing of raised voices replaced with a deathly loud silence.

Le Maître's grin grew and Athos never wanted to kill anyone as much as he did in that moment.

But then the king began clapping and Athos stood corrected.

He'd never wanted to kill two people as much as he did in that moment.

Little d'Artagnan reappeared once more, curling himself up modestly and staring at the court in utter bewilderment.

"Treville!" Le Maître summoned with the clicking of his fingers. "I believe this is your musketeer."

And with that another maid moved forwards and draped a blanket around d'Artagnan before lifting the child up and handing him to the man on the brink of a heart attack. The whole time the King was barking wildly in the background.

Then Aramis snapped.

Surging forwards the Spaniard shoved Le Maître against the wall of the courtroom.

"Turn him back!" He screamed causing Le Maître to visibly tremble.

"Unhand him, musketeer!" Louis bellowed and Aramis had to use every ounce of his willpower to obey.

Releasing the man's ruffled doublet from his clenched fists, Aramis stepped back grinding his teeth. Those usual jovial eyes shadowed with fear and rage. A very dangerous combination.

"The effects last two weeks, and two weeks alone. I can assure you." Le Maître filled in hurriedly and Aramis hissed angrily whilst Porthos warred with an inner turmoil to crush the man's skull or...to crush the man's skull... and forced himself to keep his distance, prowling the courtroom instead.

Treville meanwhile was still holding d'Artagnan, the young boy having wrapped his arms around his neck in return. He looked afraid.

Athos' anger flared.

"Your majesty," he grit out. "This is witchcraft!"

The cardinal nodded. "Yes, sire! If this spreads through Paris...to Rome! We will have every nation's army baying for out blood! This is the most violent form of blaspheme I have witnessed, your majesty! It must be dealt with accordingly."

Le Maître didn't even flinch.

Eyeing the man before him with awe, Louis stepped forwards. "The court is dismissed, this shall not be discussed beyond these walls," And upon turning to Treville ordered. "Take d'Artagnan to the garrison and will send word by morning."

Athos almost exploded.

Porthos almost fainted.

And Aramis almost stopped functioning.

Almost.

Striding out of the court with glowing red anger the four men...and child made their way towards the Garrison.

Ignoring the questioning looks and mutters of d'Artagnan's lack of presence, not to mention the fact Treville was still carrying a sleeping child no older than 4 in his arms. The foursome headed straight to Treville's office where the child was deposited on the desk, now wide awake and looking rightfully confused.

After plenty of pacing and hushed talking Porthos set out to find d'Artagnan some clothing to replace the thin blanket around his waist and Aramis set out to find some wine and food...but mainly wine.

Taking in a deep breath Treville crouched his age bent legs and knelt before d'Artagnan.

"Hello d'Artagnan." The Captain said softly as Athos moved forwards slightly.

d'Artagnan frowned and made a slight hand gesture, and Treville cursed.

"What?" Athos demanded, panic clenching his heart slightly. Ignoring his lieutenant's stressful state, Treville turned his attention back to the frowning boy before him.

"Adieussiatz." He tried and d'Artagnan's face lit up with understanding.

"Adieu." He responded with that smile...that same smile...

Athos watched baffled.

"Va plan?" Treville asked.

"Cal far anar, et vos?" d'Artagnan responded in his garbled little voice.

Treville chuckled. "Va plan, mercés. Uh...Cossí vos sonatz?"

"Me soni Charlie!" d'Artagnan giggled.

Treville smiled back sadly and ruffled the lads hair. "Adieussiatz Charlie."

Turning back to Athos Treville sighed. "He understands French, he just can't speak it...does that make sense?" He explained and Athos nodded with a gulp. "He speaks Occitan fluently, but I believe he's merely learning to understand French... It's relatively common back home, in Gascony."

Athos nodded again, unable to do anything else.

Shaking his head Treville prompted Athos to introduce himself.

Moving stiffly forward, Athos knelt before the little boy, those brown trusting eyes locking with his instantly.

"Uh...Hello Charlie..." Athos said quietly, watching the little boy before him.

"Adieu." d'Artagnan responded with a smile. "Cossí vos dison?"

Sparing a helpless look with Treville, the older man filled in. "He wants to know your name."

Nodding weakly, Athos turned his attention back to d'Artagnan.

"My name's Athos." The musketeer smiled softly, unsure of how he felt...of how he should feel.

"Encantat, 'Thos!" d'Artagnan smiled back.

Athos turned back to a smiling Treville. "He says it's a pleasure to meet you." 

***

Okay...so Treville is now officially from Gascony! I decided d'Art would mist likely refer to himself as Charles or Charlie since I doubt many four year olds get called by their last names, but I'll still refer to him as d'Artagnan with the exemption of character dialect to avoid confusion...I hope!!! And also d'Art can't speak French but he understands it...I know that may sound a little odd but I have a good friend who comes from a Spanish background and he was trying to explain to me how when he was little he could understand what his parents were saying, whether they were speaking in Spanish or English, but just couldn't reply in Spanish. I was a little skeptical but apparently it's a real thing...but anyways....

Basically if your a little unsure about what Treville and little d'Art were saying when they were all Occitan-y... This is it:

 

T: Hello.

D: Hi.

T: How are you?

D: So, so (alright), and you?

T: I'm good thank you...Uh...(can I ask) what your called?

D: My name's Charlie.

I know its a pretty lame convo, but even the internet has its bounds!!! I initially wanted to write it in Gascon, but I could literally find nothing that would really reach the expectations I had for this sorta language development thing I'm aiming for...so I settled with Occitan which I think (and don't quote me on this) is fairly similar with a more Spanish type background, (which will come in handy with our gorgeous Spainard, Aramis.)

 ***