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The time was 11:30, and D'artagnan was behind the Luxembourg. Seems he was to finish that duel he had started... Was it really that little time since he last faced off against Athos? Well, hopefully a pleasant battle with such a well-considered friend would not feature grievous injuries to serve as a wellspring of vast angst and pathos; sometimes, you never could tell!

..And then his stomach rumbled. Sure, NOW he remembers to grab food!

A few minutes later, all that was at the agreed-upon spot was a swatch of the young man's cloak.

Date: 2006-12-12 11:20 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] allfor-one.livejournal.com
Athos had spent the greater part of his morning in the looming shadow of a hovering Monsieur de Tréville. Himself, Porthos and Aramis; all men exchanging pleasant conversation over a meal that was promised to them by their superior, chose carefully stated sentiment with their commander in the immediate vicinity. After Monsieur de Tréville detailed to them what they would be required of that month, Athos nodded his head solemnly and excused himself respectfully, informing the other men that there was a previously arranged engagement that demanded his presence. Once outside, he was met with his mute servant, Grimaud, and both men ventured slowly toward the predetermined destination, careful in being certain that they were not being followed.

Without a word uttered between the pair, Athos looked upon Grimaud with a tell-all eye and shrugged off his tabbards to leave in his servant's tender care. Now donned in nothing more than his white, loosely fitted shirt, he could tell Grimaud wanted to protest his master's decision to duel without proper coverage. A sharp gaze given by the Musketeer rapidly sent all disagreements to the solitary prison in Grimaud's mind.

Athos motioned to Grimaud with a dismissive backhanded wave, sending the silent order to keep watch. Duels were strictly forbidden, friendly or otherwise, and Athos did not want to spend any more time underneath Tréville's watchful eye. He was already under fire by Tréville's somewhat distasteful mood with the foursome as of late. He sighed impatiently, waiting for his opponent to arrive. Without warning Grimaud interrupted his peaceful introverted reflection with a loud whistle none too far away. Athos looked down and saw the recognizable piece of the Gascon's cloak at the pointing end of Grimaud's rapier.

"What is the meaning of this?" Athos questioned, but turned quickly when he heard a twig break not far off in the distance. He smirked disapprovingly toward the sound and shook his head. "Aramis. I know that is you."

Date: 2006-12-17 06:15 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] allfor-god.livejournal.com
"Better I than Porthos, I fare to wager," came a voice from within the fauna before the man, clad in the identifying tunic of the Musketeer; silver upon royal blue, exited the tall shrubs bordering the brick walls of the Luxembourg. He brushed his sleeves and the honorable tunic off with sweeps of the thick, tanned gloves armoring his hands before adjusting his feather-laden cap front-to-back, eyes ascending to settle upon Athos above a dismissive smile. "After all, who better to watch your back than he who might focus holy luck upon you?" He raised both hands, palms outward toward Athos in a disarming manner. "Not that you need it."

Chuckling inwardly, he managed a crooked half smirk and passed along a recognizing nod to Athos' servant, his own absent from the occasion. "Hello, Grimaud."

Date: 2006-12-23 01:56 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] onefor-all.livejournal.com
Meanwhile, D'artagnan is galloping hell-bent for leather back, GOBBLING his hot venison pasty down and burning his tongue something fierce.. not to mention the crumbs all down his jerkin and cloak! Indeed, do not mention these things. For they do not matter in the face of AH BLAST IT I THINK I'M LATE!

Yea, e'en as he reins in a few feet before the assembled party, there is a resigned look on his face. "Not again.."

At least, that's what he tries to say. The thoroughly scalded tongue makes it sound rather more like "Maw agaimm!"

Date: 2007-01-04 09:17 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] allfor-one.livejournal.com
A solemn nod was answered to Aramis from Grimaud before he returned to his master's side, surrendering the piece of the cloak over to Athos. "I can handle this very well on my own, Aramis," the older Musketeer muttered with a condemning stare, not taking kindly to the fact that his friend blatantly ignored his wishes to operate this task alone. "Whether you choose to believe me or not, my personal attachment to the boy will never overlook the duty to my king." His thumb brushed over the cloth that was held between his thumb and fore-finger. A swatch could signify a variety of realities and with his training, Athos was going to assume the worst. The Cardinal's Guards must've caught wind of what was to come.

The hooves announcing the arrival of another absorbed Athos' attention and he spun instantly to meet the latecomer. Rapier swiftly drawn, as he was expecting it to be the face of another, a half-relieved expression settled upon his brow when it was revealed to be D'Artagnan. Huffing through his nose, he sheathed his weapon. "You look utterly ridiculous, D'Artagnan," Athos scolded, much in a fashion as a father would to his son. Not as if he could decipher what it was the younger man was trying to say. Either that or he simply did not bear the patience at the moment.

"Step off your mount," another order was commanded, his visage calm. To those who know a greater sense of Athos' character, however, it was always crystal clear when something was bothering him; as his eyes would always reveal the truth even while he lied. Behind them, there was obvious worry and a paternal conflict.

Possibly disappointment?

Date: 2007-01-13 05:02 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] onefor-all.livejournal.com
He cringes a little under the scolding, hating that he made a bad impression in front of such an esteemed Musketeer -and companion- as Athos. Swallowing the last of his pasty, a sheepish look ran across his face as he protested "As if YOU would look any better like that!" It's a valid complaint. Really.

And then he paused for a moment when he was being ordered around, that backbone coming back into play. Athos was his friend, yes, but certainly not his officer.. and it started to sound like Athos was beginning to forget that fact. "I think you forgot to say 'please.'"

D'artagnan's voice was cool, as he returned a calm look.

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