#captain treville x reader

[bullet-prooflove]

One True Love: Captain Jean Treville x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @lovemissyhoneybee @sekretwindow @rey4kat @@roschele  @sassyscottishchick @aiko24k @scorpio-1357 @burningpeachpuppy @swanfan17 @@dragon85faby @angelnyx

You sleep with a knife underneath your pillow, you have the entire time that Jean has known you. That doesn’t change when you marry him, he wouldn’t expect it to. You’re safety is paramount to him, whether it’s a pistol is tucked underneath the bed or a blade against the mattress, he makes those concessions freely. He knows the horrors that noblemen commit under the cover of darkness, he knows what you’ve endured. You’ve been tempered by the fire, forged by in the flames. You’ve suffered, you’ve bled but you never break.

You have a tempestuous spirit, a thirst for adventure.

Other men have tried to tame you, tried to rid you of it but Jean he adores you because of it. Never in his wildest dreams did he envision a love as ferocious as the one he has with you.

When you took your vows, you both omitted ‘to obey’. You will never be beholden to him.

He’s not that kind of man and you are certainly not that kind of woman.

“I won’t be the little wife that sits at home waiting for you Jean.” You had told him when he proposed to you on shore.

The two of you were sitting side by side, watching the waves crash against the beach. He’s come to love this place in the time he’s spent here, the cottage by the sea, the call of the ocean. It’s different pace from Paris, a different world, a different life. You think he’s chasing that dream, a quiet place where he can retire to, a woman who builds a home, who cares for his children.

“You know I can’t have your babies.” You say softly. “The Treville name will die with you.”

“With us.” He corrects you, his hand reaching out and taking yours. “It’ll die with us.”

He marries you the next day, in that chapel on the hill.

When he takes you to bed that night, he looks into your eyes and sees the woman he was always meant to be with, his heart, his soul, his destiny.

“Terese.” He murmurs against your lips as he enters you for the first time as your husband. “My one true love.”

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#captain treville #captain treville x reader #captain jean treville #captain treville x you #jean treville x you #bbc musketeers #jean treville x reader #treville x reader #the musketeers

[dreamerinthesun]

Honey & Sore throat

A/N: husband!Jean Treville x reader (well you'll get the idea)

for @rose-edith sorry it took me so long😭 i hope you'll like it

if you have any request feel free to send them in! i will try my best to write them!

"Ugh!" From the moment you woke up, you realised this was going to be a tough day, if even not one of the worst. Your head was pouding awfully and it wasn't enough, you could barely feel your throat! Maybe dancing and singing all night yesterday was a bad idea, but in your defense, you had to celebrate the good news of D'Artagnan's earned comission somehow! What didn't helped at all was the open window which was one of your husband's habits after waking up early in the morning. You understood why he did that, fresh air in the morning was always a great idea but this morning you only wanted to scold the Captain of Musketeers for being so inconsiderate of your well-being. Your body was telling you to go make yourself a cup of hot tea from the dried herbs you kept in the kitchen but your mind was refusing to get out of the bed and loose its warmth. "Well, look who's awake. Good morning my dear" You were so caught up in your own thoughts about what your next move would be that you didn't noticed your dear husband standing in the doorway to your shared room. By his facial expression you could read in his face that he was a bit amused at your state which you didn't found happy and cute at all. "Mhm..." The hum of your response made Jean only chuckle under his breath as he joined you on your side of bed, taking in how you looked. Despite your hair being a slight mess and your nose looking a pinker than usual he still thought you were absolutely breathtaking and couldn't believe his eyes. "How are you feeling?" "How do you think I'm feeling? I'm feeling great " 'Ah, that's the sarcasm I'm used to' , thought Jean to himself. Whether he admitted it or not he found you even more feisty and snarky self when you were feeling sick bit adorable. As almost everything about you. "I will bring you some tea, you look a little pale. Please stay in bed or you'll catch something worse", he spoke in a soft yet demanding tone. He really wasn't fan of idea you walking and taking care of everything around when you were obviously sick. "I'm fine. I'll just drink tea and everything will get better" "We both know that's not true..." "Fine, I will stay in bed" It sounded like you didn't even wanted to stay in bed but on the other hand you knew Jean Treville was one stubborn man when it came to taking care of you. "But close the window" "Yeah, I will..." Pressing a single kiss onto your forehead he stood up walking over to the window closing it and making sure no one piece of wind went through he then walked out of the door to make you the tea you were promised.

Once the hot mug filled with water, herbs and some honey was in the man's hand he was slowly walking over to the room you were staying in, careful to not spill any of the tea either on him or on the ground because ending up with burn hand himself wasn't any of the close plans on Jean's mind. Grabbing you also your favorite book on the way to the room he was secretly hoping this was all enough for you to keep you inside the room for the day. "One tea with honey coming!" He called out to you when he walked past the doors smiling at the sight of you. The duvet covered up your whole body while you were under there, enjoying the warmth which was provided by the bed. "Here's your tea with honey, but careful, it's hot so leave it there for a few minutes to cool. And here's book to keep you company. Or would you prefer Aramis's presence instead?" With all honesty, Jean wasn't very much happy with the idea of Aramis spending the day in your room. Not that he was afraid of Aramis hitting on you, he was pretty aware of how close you two were, but he would prefer for his musketeer to focus on his job rather than fooling around and doing nothing. So he was quite satisfied with the shook of head you gave him as he smiled, his moustache lifting up slightly. "The honey should help you with the sore throat and do no tell me you don't have it because I heard you singing previous night!" He remarked with small laugh, memories of the celebration running through his head before he made sure you had everything. "If you would want anything else, call out to me, I will be in my office anyway" He spoke up again, mentally groaning at the idea of much paperwork as he didn't notice you were silent the whole time, watching him. When he finally did and he turned his head to look at you, he took notice of the mischief shining in your eyes as you sneaked your arm around his waist. You didn't even had to say anything and he knew it was your plan to get him spend the day with you. "I have to go darling, the paperwork won't do it itself" Jean remarked quickly jumping up from the bed and almost running to his office. The scene caused you to laugh as you just shook your head, getting comfortable under the duvets again while you continued to come up with plan how to get your husband to cuddle in bed with you for the rest of the day.

#the muskeeters headcanons #bbc musketeers #jean treville #captain treville #minister treville #captain treville x reader #bbc musketeers x reader

[rose-edith]

Okay but like imagine being Treville's daughter and having a thing for someone from cardinal's men😂 we love a good forbidden love thing

We do all love a forbidden love! Somehow it tastes all the sweeter. Hope you like it!

Being Treville’s daughter and liking a Red Guard would include:

•your poor dear, long suffering Father does love you. He loves you entirely, with all his heart.

•but what he can’t do is accept that you’re quite a grown up now! It doesn’t matter how old you are, how old you get to become, you’re his baby girl. In his mind he can still see you taking your first steps towards him, he can remember the first tooth you lost, when he caught you learning to use a sword…all of those memories were living in his mind every time he looks at you.

•he absolutely cannot tolerate the idea that you might be entering into any romantic dalliances with anyone. He doesn’t like that- no one is good enough for his baby girl!

•BUT in his head it would be marginally more acceptable if you were to enter into an ‘understanding’ with one of his men. He trusts his Musketeers, he can frighten them into submission and treating you well…

•so when you told him that you were a little interested in/fascinated by a Red Guard, your Father fell backwards into his seat, landing with a hard thump! Even the chair creaked.

•he blinked owlishly at you. Silent, brooding, confused…he waited to wake up- he was sure this was a nightmare? But when he realised he was awake, he just sighed and rubbed his face.

•he thought about it for a moment, ignoring the way you were shuffling in fear and anxiety as you waited to hear what he would say.

•but then he spoke. So long as you were happy he didn’t mind, so long as the man cared for you it was ok. He didn’t want to know every detail. But he would like to meet the man…to take an assessment of his character.

•what he also did however, was send Athos, Aramis, Porthos and D’Artagnan on a little spy mission. He had his men watch the guard closely and report back to him.

•and he was almost disappointed when it was revealed that the man was good. A good fighter, a loyal Frenchman.

•Treville even went so far as to speak to Cardinal Richelieu to ask about his Guard…the Cardinal was secretly a silent protector of yours, so when he learned of your attachment to the man, well he personally went digging for dirt! But nothing bad was turned up.

•so reluctantly your father conceded that you could see the man if you wanted. But he was going to meet him, and soon. But for now, you had his approval and support.

#musketeers #bbc musketeers #musketeers x reader #musketeers imagine #musketeers headcanons #captain treville x reader #captain treville headcanons #captain treville imagine #captain treville

[theblondeone-029]

Please check this out if you like the musketeers

#kiefer sutherland #the three musketeers #athos #the three musketeers 1993 #athos x reader #kiefer sutherland 1993 #athos kiefer sutherland #kiefer sutherland x reader #porthos #aramis #d’artagnan #princess royal #forbidden relationship #forbidden love #captain treville #princess x musketeer

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Trois Surprises

Aramis x Reader (The Musketeers)

Words: 6719

Summary: Aramis and the reader are changed forever by three joyous surprises. 

Notes: I write a lot of angst for him, but dammit, this man deserves to be happy. And I wanted to write him actually being able to spend time with his kids. Also, the title is ‘Three Surprises’ in French, I just didn’t know ‘surprises’ is spelled the same way. At least that’s what translate said. Please don’t come for me. This also doesn’t follow any plots from the show,  so ignore the timeline haha. 

More Musketeers HERE

-

I 

The garrison greeted you with metal clashing and the smell of sweat. Men shouted at each other across the way with language that was far from proper.  It didn’t bother you, of course. In your time frequenting the training area, you’d grown used to its oddities and eccentricities. 

A few of the men cheered to greet you and asked how you were or what brought you to the garrison, though they already had an idea. You were here for Aramis. You were always here for Aramis. Or for shooting lessons, which the captain had approved since you lived alone and association with the musketeers often led to trouble. 

“Y/N!” A boisterous voice called. Porthos hopped up from the table he sat at and crossed the courtyard. Not one for propriety, he pulled you into a hug without a second thought. You couldn’t help but laugh at his enthusiasm. “What brings you here?” 

He led you back to the table and brushed off the bench for you to sit. 

Athos tilted his hat. Unlike his companion, he enjoyed upholding some of the rules of society. “Mademoiselle Y/L/N.” 

“How many times must I tell you to call me Y/N?” You teased. 

“If I did, you wouldn’t have to tell me any more,” he smirked. “I assume you’re looking for Aramis.” 

You nodded. “I have important matters to discuss with him and Captain Treville.” 

The two exchanged a look. 

“Sounds serious,” Porthos said. “Anything we should know about?”

“All in good time, boys,” you beamed. “I promise I won’t leave you in the dark for too long.” 

D'Artagnan eyed you curiously. Perhaps your closest friend among Aramis’ companions, it was unusual for you not to share something with him. You gave him a reassuring nod and he trusted he’d find out what all this was about in due time. It didn’t stop his mind from searching the possibilities, though. 

The imploring silence only lasted a moment longer. 

“Y/N?” 

And just like that, at the sound of his voice, your knees turned soft and your heart stopped beating. Every nerve in your body seemed to bunch and twist in your belly. You turned, Aramis’s eyes sparkling at you in the morning light as a smile crept onto his face. 

“I had no idea you’d be here,” he grinned, kissing your cheek. 

“I had something I wanted to share with you before you galavanted off into danger somewhere.” The tremble in your voice made his face darken with worry. His gaze flicked to his companions and they took the hint, hurrying off to the side to give the two of you some privacy. You began to fidget with your cloak. “I hope my coming on short notice isn’t a nuisance.” 

“No, please.” He took your hands in his and brought them to his lips. “You are my favorite kind of surprise, darling.” His dark eyes looked deeply into yours. “Is something the matter?” 

“Not exactly…” You’d rehearsed the words numerous times and it was completely in vain. You might as well have been mute, standing before him with a blank, panicked expression, which of course only made him look more concerned. 

“My love, you’re starting to frighten me,” he laughed nervously and tucked a hair behind your ear. “You can tell me anything.” 

You took a deep breath, placing a hand on his chest. 

“What do you think they’re talking about?” Porthos whispered. The three, having been observing from afar, watched on as you stared down at the dirt and Aramis lifted your chin with his finger. 

“That’s between the two of them,” Athos said. “It’s none of our business.” However, he did not, nor did the other two, turn away.

You said something none of them could hear. Aramis’s arms fell to his sides, face turned white as a sheet. His mouth floundered open and closed, unable to say anything. 

“You don’t think she’s broken things off, do you?” D’Artagnan asked. 

After a moment of this awkward, anxious tension that even they could feel from across the courtyard, Aramis seemed to snap to his senses. He lifted you off the ground and spun around, a smile as wide as the Seine spread across his face. Your laugh rang throughout the space and when he set you down, your arms hooked around his neck, lips locking together for longer than what was probably publicly acceptable. 

Athos turned to the youngest member of their group. “I take that as a no.” 

Aramis kissed you one… two… three… more times before you said something about going to the market and left, holding his hand until the last possible moment. 

When the marksman returned, his friends stood with brows raised and curious smiles. Porthos patted him on the back. 

“What to share what that was all about?” 

Still, with a starstruck grin, Aramis gazed around in a daze. Like before, his mouth fell open and nothing came out. He was sure his heart had stopped beating. Or perhaps it wasn’t there anymore. It was with you, as it always had been. Now more than ever. 

He looked up at his companions- his friends- the men he trusted with his life and the words simply fell from his lips. 

“Y/N’s pregnant.” 

-

“I don’t know if I can wait much longer,” you whined, breathing slowly and deeply as you took a seat at the table. 

Constance smiled. “You only have, what, a month or so to go?”

“Yes, and I feel like I’m the size of Notre Dame.” You laid a hand on your bulbous belly and laughed. “I look the size of Notre Dame.” 

“Nonsense,” she chuckled along with you, setting a plate of bread and bowl of stew in front of you. Constance peeked out the door and shook her head. “They’re late. Again.” Despite the playful annoyance in her voice, there was a sparkle in her eye. One you recognized well. 

“You know… D’Artagnan has been speaking of you more and more since I became pregnant. I dare say he even sounds hopeful.”

“Don’t start,” she swallowed. She took a rag and started to wipe down the table in order to avoid your gaze. “I, in case you’ve forgotten, am married to the man who supplies your fabrics. D’Artagnan and I are merely friends.” The younger woman glanced up at you with a kind of admiration. “It isn’t like what you and Aramis have.” 

You scoffed. “I’m his mistress.”

Her eyes softened with sincerity. She put a hand on your arm. “You’re a great deal more than that.” 

You averted your eyes, feeling the hint of tears begin in them and focused on the meal before you. Despite his adoration and his devotion, you knew not to hope for more than what you were given. And you had no complaints, of course, Aramis was the light of your life and to have his child was more than you ever imagined. But he was a hero. You were a seamstress. 

As if summoned by your brief sorrow, the door to the cottage opened and you heard two pairs of thundering steps coming down the hall. While not banished completely, your doubts were pushed to the back of your mind upon the sight of Aramis’s grinning face. 

“Sorry we’re late, ladies,” he said, removing his hat with a smug flare. “Paris needed saving.” 

“When doesn’t it?” You laughed. He leaned to place a kiss on your forehead, hand falling lovingly to your belly. 

“You look beautiful,” he whispered against your skin. Aramis basked at the sight of you in the setting sun, golden rays streaming through the window. “Like an angel in heaven’s light.” 

A lovely pink color crept onto your cheeks. “You flatter me too much.” 

“My love, my words will never be enough.” Aramis brought your lips to his with passion and sweetness, despite the other two in the room. He set his weapons aside, his coat along with them, and sat next to you. Seeing the billowing sleeves of his shirt reminded you of your work earlier in the day. 

“I almost forgot, I repaired the tear in your shirt. I’ll have to go fetch it.” You started to stand- with more than a little effort- and he laid a hand on your shoulder to set you back down. 

“Please, don’t trouble yourself, darling.” He kissed you again. “I’ll get it.” As he sauntered into the other room, Constance gave you a knowing look you did your best to ignore. 

“Any news on the Red Guard?” D’Artagnan asked. You were glad of the change in subject, though Constance rolled her eyes at his abruptness. 

“Unfortunately, I don’t seem to be the favorite to stitch their uniforms ever since-” You motioned to the rather obvious reason at your middle. 

“Ah,” D’Artagnan nodded. “Right.”

Having made a reputation as having the most reliable repairs of any affordable seamstress in Paris, you’d often had members of the Red Guard come to you, as they were ‘too above’ mending anything themselves. It did, however, allow you to overhear things here and there, which you took to the musketeers. But keeping your relationship with Aramis a secret was hard enough. Now, with such a drastic change in your appearance, they’d kept their distance, though whether it was because you were unmarried or if they suspected you to be somewhat of a spy for your child’s father, you couldn’t tell. 

The two of you looked at each other for a moment before you couldn’t contain your laughter. D’Artagnan sat beside you and asked you questions of a lighter variety while you pleaded to hear of the day’s adventures. Aramis always worried he’d distress you, so you received all the juicy details from the youngest musketeer. Through your friendship with Constance, D’Artagnan had become one of your closest friends as well. 

A lull fell upon your conversation and you couldn't help but note how his eyes drifted back to your mutual companion by the fire. 

One day, you thought…

A sudden movement within you forced a gasp from your lips. Aramis returned to the room in seconds.

“Love, what is it? Did something happen?” He knelt by your side with loving, concerned eyes. 

“Yes,” you beamed, placing a hand where the movement was. You looked into his beautiful gaze and felt yourself overtaken by the excitement. “I believe he just kicked.” Gently, you took his hand and guided it to where you’d felt it. 

“He?” Aramis awed, raising a brow. 

You shrugged. “Just a feeling.”

Another motion fluttered against Aramis’s hand, this one stronger and almost more aggressive than the last. Aramis chuckled. 

“I think she may disagree with your feeling.” 

“Oh, a girl then, is it?” You smirked. 

He shrugged, mocking you affectionately. “Just a feeling.” 

-

II

He’d come as soon as he heard. All of them had. The four musketeers stood in the lobby of your shop, none of them able to sit down. Athos leaned against the wall, he and Porthos watching the windows as if for some dastardly foe. D’Artagnan tried to distract himself by sharpening his sword. Aramis paced at the foot of the stairs leading up to your rooms. 

The midwife wouldn’t allow him to be with you, despite his protests. Only Constance was permitted to accompany her in tending to you. It took all three men to hold him back when your screaming began. 

Hours of this hell passed. He paced until he was sure the soles of his boots would scuff clean off. 

“Can I ask you something?” Porthos asked. He hoped to distract his friend from his pain but, in truth, it was something they’d all been wondering for months. Aramis stopped his hurried steps and turned with a nod. Porthos swallowed. “Why haven’t you married her?” 

“Porthos now is hardly the occasion,” Athos scolded. 

“We have to talk about something, else we’ll all go mad with her up there.” 

Aramis held up a hand to silence them both. The three waited with bated breath as he looked up, wishing to float through the ceiling and be by your side. 

“Because she doubts me,” he said with an unexpected sadness in his voice. He looked back at them. “She doesn’t believe that my love for her is genuine. I can feel it when her smile falters or when her hand falls from mine.” He turned away. “To ask her for her hand because of the child… it would only prove what she believes.” Aramis clenched his fist at his side, then relaxed it again. This idleness would destroy him if this was not soon over. “I could not force her to marry a man that she doubts.” 

The others nodded in understanding, though none of them truly understood, especially D’Artagnan.

 He’d never seen two people who loved each other more than you and Aramis. He wanted to scream at both of them until his throat was sore if he thought it would help. Seeing the two of you so clouded with your own doubts hurt him more than he could say. The younger man just couldn’t fathom it. He’d give anything to have the opportunity to marry the woman he loved.

The matter of your reputation, of course, had already been discussed. You told anyone who discovered your condition that you’d married while away in Gascony and that your husband was a merchant who traveled often and you always met with him back in Gascony. Most people didn’t care enough to gossip about an orphaned woman with little prospects to begin with. It’d been your idea to lie and Aramis accepted it as you being as unsure of him as you thought he was of you. 

What killed him the most, despite his charming demeanor and always knowing the right words for the right people, was that he had no idea how to convey to you how he truly felt. He reminded you of his love every moment he had with you, and yet he knew you didn’t fully believe it. What else could he do but keep trying? 

Another aching shriek echoed through the chamber, followed by a silence, and then… cries. An infant’s wailing filled the house. 

Aramis raced up the stairs before the others could stop him. 

The door to your bedroom opened and Constance stepped out, quickly closing it behind her. She had a bundle in her arms. The auburn-haired woman beamed at him. 

“Would you like to meet your son?” 

Suddenly, he couldn’t move. He just stared at Constance, stunned, as the baby continued to cry. It was as if he’d forgotten how to use his limbs, everything numb with a strange mix of disbelief and utter joy. 

A son. 

He stepped forward and spoke with a shaking voice. “Y-yes.” He felt like a child himself, standing before her with arms outstretched. 

Constance, still grinning, gently placed the wriggling bundle into his awaiting embrace. 

He couldn’t believe how small he was. His son. A tiny fist reached out. Aramis gave him his pinky to grasp onto, his little fingers not even able to wrap all the way around the digit. He rocked the baby in his arms, cooing slightly. The boy stopped crying. 

“I have a son,” he gasped. He turned to the stairs, where his three friends had gathered at the bottom. His tone raised to a cheer. “I have a son!” 

A chorus of joyous hollers and applause filled the stairwell. 

The celebration, however, was cut short as another round of your screaming cries The boy in his arms began wailing again. He held him a little closer to soothe him, but Aramis had gone white. 

“What’s happening?” He asked. 

Constance shook her head. “I-I don’t know. I thought everything was fine.” 

A guttural grunt. Another scream. 

Aramis passed his son back to Constance and started toward your door. The three men had already climbed the stairs with worried expressions.

“You aren’t supposed to-” Constance started, but she stopped as soon as she saw Aramis’s look of absolute panic. 

He burst through the door.  

“What’s happening? What’s wrong?” Aramis rushed to your side, brushing a sweat-soaked strand of hair away from your cheek. 

“Aramis?” You muttered, almost dreamily. 

“You shouldn’t be in here monsieur,” the midwife scolded. 

Your knees were pulled up before her. He tried not to look, for the bed sheets were slick with blood and it only made him panic even more. He, instead, looked into your eyes and you looked into his, the comfort of those dark brown irises grounding you through the pain. 

“Something’s… happening…” You took heaving breaths in between your words. His hand found yours and you held onto it with a near-crushing grip. 

“There’s another,” the midwife said. 

Both of your heads snapped up to look at her and you spoke at the same time. 

“What?!” 

She peered up at you, cast a disapproving look at the father, but decided it was too late to force him out of the room. 

“Just as we did before,” she instructed. “Ready? Three… two…” 

-

For the first time, there was quiet. 

The midwife had gone, having gathered the soiled blankets and bowls of water. Aramis sat beside you, one arm around your shoulders, your son blinking up at both of you from your embrace. With the other arm, he held your daughter. 

“I doubt I’ll ever understand what I’ve done in my life,” he whispered, kissing your forehead, “to deserve all of this.” 

You turned your head to kiss his lips lightly, reaching a hand to caress your daughter’s soft cheek. 

“It seems impossible for two things so perfect to come into my life at once,” you mused, bringing your hand up to his face. “And you… to have you for as long as I have. I can’t imagine what I’ve done to be so blessed.” 

Aramis leaned into your touch, the hair of his beard tickling your palm as he nuzzled your skin. Those near-ebony eyes looked into yours with a love more powerful than he’d ever felt before. He wanted, right there, to ask you to marry him. 

A knock at the door was followed by Constance peeking her head into the room with an excited, but exasperated expression. 

“I don’t know how much longer I can hold them off,” she laughed. “I haven’t told them anything, like you asked, other than that everything is alright, but I don’t think they’ll believe me until they see you.” 

Aramis chuckled, the vibration rumbling against you. Your daughter stirred against his chest, stretching her tiny arms toward him. He leaned to kiss her forehead. 

You beamed. “Let them in.” 

Constance nodded, smile growing, and turned back to the door.

“Be quiet, all of you,” she ordered. “I don’t want you scaring them.”

D’Artagnan’s brows drew together as he stepped in first. 

“Them?”  

As the two others piled in behind him, all halted abruptly, their eyes darting between you and Aramis and the not one, but two infants in your arms. Confusion turned to shock and finally to unbridled excitement. 

“Twins!” Athos exclaimed with one of the first real smiles you’d ever seen on his face. 

Porthos was still glancing between the two. “Twins?” 

It was D’Artagnan who stepped forward first and placed a hand gently on your shoulder, his joy for you clear in his dark eyes. 

“It’s incredible,” he said. He glanced up at Aramis with the same warm kinship. “I can’t begin to say how happy I am. For both of you.” 

The other two gathered on Aramis’s side of the bed and shared similar congratulations. 

“Have you thought of names?” Porthos asked. 

“Actually, we thought we’d get your thoughts,” Aramis said, glancing over at you with a smirk. He touched a finger to your daughter’s nose. “For her, we were thinking of Christine.” She swatted at his finger lightly, making her father laugh again. “She’s quite the fighter already, hm?” 

“I wonder where she gets that from,” Porthos smiled and patted him on the back. 

“For our son,” you took a deep breath and looked up at your friend beside you. “We thought Charles would be fitting.” 

D’Artagnan’s mouth fell open and his eyes filled with even more admiration and feeling than before, which didn’t seem possible. 

“C-Charles?” He asked, as if he’d heard you wrong. 

Aramis nodded. “Charles.” 

“But only if you’ll allow it,” you said, reaching for his hand. “You’ve just been such a good friend to me- to us- and I hoped you would be his godfather as well, but if-”

He took your hand and brought it to his lips. “I would be honored.” His voice was heavy with emotion, tears of joy welling in his eyes. 

“We’ve already asked Constance to be godmother to them both,” Aramis said. He turned to his best friend. “I was hoping, Porthos, that-”

“Do you even have to ask?” Porthos chuckled. He leaned over your daughter and made a face. 

She started to cry. 

“Congratulations,” Aramis sighed. “You’ve already frightened off your goddaughter.” 

Porthos made another face and she stopped. He raised a brow at Aramis, beaming. You snickered at their antics. 

“They are beautiful children,” Athos said, leaning against the dresser. “I can’t say enough how happy I am for the two of you.” 

“Oh don’t feel left out, Athos,” Porthos teased. “I’m sure you can be godfather to the next one.” 

You snorted. “I think he may have to wait a while for that.” Everyone in the room laughed. D’Artagnan gazed down at your son, still trying to hold back tears. 

“Would you like to hold him?” 

He gulped. “Can I?” 

You smiled and carefully handed your son to his namesake. Aramis did the same with your daughter, slowly putting her in Porthos’s arms. And just like that, you watched the two grown men turn to puppies, all wide eyes and cooing smiles. 

A happy tear rolled down your cheek. Aramis pulled you closed and kissed it away. You knew, more than anything in the world, that your children would be safe. And they would be loved. 

III

He rocked the child in his arms with the whispers of a lullaby on his lips. 

“Lullay, thou little tiny child,” he sang softly, “bye, bye, lully, lullay. Thou little tiny child, bye, bye, lully, lullay…” Aramis smiled and kissed his sleeping son’s forehead before laying him gently in his crib. Charles’s nose twitched and he stretched his tiny arms but didn’t stir. 

Aramis watched him in wonder. Ten months and he still couldn’t quite believe all of this was real. His heart ached from being so full. 

A small clattering sound drew his attention away and he felt his heart stop in a panic. Aramis rushed across the nursery and plucked his daughter from the floor before she could pull another one of his swords off of the table where he’d placed them. 

“Christine d’Herblay, how many times must I tell you to leave Papa’s things alone?” He scolded, nuzzling her cheek. “I don’t know what I’d do if you hurt yourself, darling.” 

She leaned into his embrace, looking up at him with those big eyes with a perfectly innocent expression. Quite cunning, he thought, for a toddler. Of course, he melted instantly and began bouncing her up and down. Her bell-like laughter filled the room, as well as his chest. 

The door to the nursery opened and you stepped in with messy hair stuck down by sweat from your exhaustive day and a harrowed expression. Your eyes fell upon the sheathed weapon on the floor. 

“I tell her to leave them,” Aramis said. “But she doesn’t listen to me.” He tickled her side, earning more laughter. “Just like your mother, aren’t you?” 

You didn’t laugh. Instead, you sighed and stooped to pick up his sword from the ground. From there, you began picking up everything you could find, tidying up the room in a flustered hurry. Aramis placed Christine in her crib beside Charles’s and took your hands in his to stop your anxious movements. 

“What’s happened?” 

You bowed your head. “Nothing.” 

“Y/N…” He sighed, laying a hand on your cheek. You pulled away. 

“It’s this Rocheforte.” You ran your fingers through your hair, more aware than ever of their lack of ring. “He isn’t like the cardinal- which I thought would be a good thing- but he’s somehow worse. He’s suspicious and- and cunning, and his men are asking more and more questions when I’m called there to repair uniforms.” Your rambling caught in your throat, paired with tired tears. 

“What can I do?” Aramis asked. “You know it pains me to see you in distress. Just say the word, and I’ll have the heads of half of the Red Guard by sundown.” 

“It isn’t just them.” You shook your head. “I’m just… so tired of lying, Aramis.” 

Christine made a cooing sound. Charles yawned. 

Aramis stepped toward you. “Then let us make it the truth.” 

You paused, making sure you’d heard him correctly. Aramis continued. 

“Marry me and none of this will matter. You can stop spying for Treville and the Red Guards will have the whole of the musketeers to face if they bother you again.” 

Tears stung the corners of your eyes, but you wiped them hastily away. At first, he thought they were tears of joy, but the closer Aramis looked, he knew he was wrong. 

“I will handle Rochefortes prying myself. He’s likely figured out you are the true father and is just trying to frighten me into admitting it.” 

“Y/N, I don’t understand. The solution for this is simple-”

“I will not doom you to a life you don’t want simply because it is the simplest answer!” you said, louder than you’d meant to. Charles awoke with shrieking cries. 

“A life I don’t want?” Aramis scoffed, trying to hide his hurt. “What are you talking about?”

“My answer is no, Aramis.” You moved to pick up your screaming son. “Marrying is clearly something you’ve never wanted and I’m not going to allow you to sacrifice anything for me when the children and I have done just fine in the current situation.”

Aramis reached for both of you. 

Christine started to cry as well. 

“Y/N-”

“I think you should leave.” You didn’t turn to look at him. Instead, you focused on your children in order to hide your sorrow from their father. “I’ll watch them now.” 

Aramis didn’t know what else to say. He wanted to kick himself for his insensitivity. He’d known of your doubts for so long and yet he sprung marriage on you as if it were nothing more than a way to fix a problem. 

“If that is what you wish,” he sighed and left, closing the door behind him while the children’s crying followed him out. 

He knew how he felt. He just needed to prove it to you.  

-

You saw no one else for the remainder of the evening. Only your children kept you company, and even they seemed more interested in empty spools rolling around on the floor. Not that you minded. With them so distracted, you found it easier to let yourself cry. 

He asked you to marry him. 

How many times had you dreamt of Aramis saying those words and yet now they felt like musket shots to your heart. He saw you as a burden. A duty to fulfill. You could never live like that, even if it meant being free of the jeers of the Red Guard. 

You only wished you could regret ever involving yourself with the musketeer, but your heart forbade it. Whether or not he felt the same, your love for Aramis had given you the world. The proof sat before you with their carefree laughter. Your son and daughter with their smiles just like their father’s. The time you’d gotten with them, with him, was worth all of the heartache. 

It was late when you finally got them both to go to sleep. One was always waking the other, but eventually, Charles and Christine laid in their cribs and soundly drifted off. 

You tried to finish up some work on a dress order at the table in the nursery,, but found your eyes unable to stay open. You must have fallen asleep as well, for the next time you opened them, the morning sun greeted you.

And the children were gone. 

You were awake in an instant, tearing through your small apartment, but finding nothing. It wasn’t until you could hear Charles’ laughter that you hurried down the stairs, finding your son in the lap of his namesake and Christine grasping at a flower that Athos held over her playfully. 

“Morning,” Porthos greeted. 

You smacked the back of his head. “Don’t do that,” you exasperated, “I thought they’d been taken by miscreants or something.” 

“We just didn’t want to ruin the surprise,” D’Artagnan smiled. 

“What are you talking about?”

“It seems we are replacing you, for the day,” Athos explained, picking up Christine to give her to you. “The three of us are to deliver your finished orders.” 

“While the four of us spend this beautiful day out, as a family,” Aramis said, having appeared in the doorway with a basket in hand and dressed in a casual tunic rather than his uniform. 

Your heart fluttered at the thought, but your mind refused to give in so easily. After all, it was only the night before that you’d nearly cried yourself to sleep over the discussion you’d had with the man before you. But the charming smile on his face and the look in his eye made it awfully difficult to argue. 

“I don’t know.” You made a point not to look at him. “I have so much still to do and-”

D’Artagnan stood, picking up your son and raising his brow at you. “Take the day, Y/N,” he said. “You deserve to rest.” 

“Plus, he’s been going mad all night, which has driven all of us mad, as well,” Porthos muttered, motioning to his nervous friend in the doorway. “Go on,” he encouraged. “What trouble could we get into delivering a bunch of dresses and coats?” 

“I don’t really like to think about it,” you frowned. 

“I will make sure that everything gets to its proper place,” Athos assured you, making you feel a little bit better. 

Aramis stepped inside, taking Charles from D’Artagnan and giving you a pleading glance. 

“It’s a beautiful day, my love,” he said. “Let us spend it as a family.” 

Any lingering frustration you’d felt from the night before was no match for his soft, wanting tone. And beneath his charisma, you knew that there was something else. Something far more serious. Whatever it was, you knew it was better to talk now than dance around it while the two of you buried yourselves in your work. 

“I suppose I can spare one day,” you said. 

Porthos and D’Artagnan cheered but were silenced by a look of annoyance from Athos. Aramis just lit up, kissing your cheek. 

“You won’t regret it,” he whispered against your skin. But when he turned back to the door, son in his arms and his two girls behind him, he muttered to himself, “I hope.”

-

It was the first moment of peace you’d experienced in months. The only sound- other than the occasional cheer or coo from one of the children- was the slight breeze through the meadow flowers. The morning passed like dandelion seeds floating through the air. 

Charles and Christine crawled around and explored the small plot of grass you’d found for them. Christine chased a butterfly and Charles plucked a light blue flower from its stem and brought it back to your lap. 

“I see he’s inherited your charm,” you said, taking in the blossom’s sweet scent. 

“And she your spirit,” Aramis pointed out, gesturing to the feisty toddler who was nearing the edge of the grass. He rolled onto his side and caught her in his arms before she could get too far. She whined, but only for a moment, before settling against his chest. 

Despite the wonder of the morning, there was the crawling under your skin, whispers of your doubts reminding you of the hopes you’d felt had been dashed by your own fear. The fear that all of this would be gone in an instant. That he would finally tire of you and the life you’ve built and he would galavant off into the arms of another woman, into another battle, another fight he could not win. 

You understood, then, looking at him under the swaying shadows of the willow tree above you, perhaps that was why you allowed your doubts to persist. Though you cared so deeply for him, you kept him at arm's length because the idea of him leaving of his own will was easier to take than a musket ball piercing his heart or a dagger across his throat.

The realization brought tears to your eyes. You bit your lip to hide the trembling, but Aramis knew in a heartbeat. 

“Oh, my love,” he sighed. He set Christine beside her brother, both of whom had fallen asleep on the blanket. Aramis laid a hand on your cheek. “I fear I’ve made a grave mistake in the years we’ve spent together.” 

You sucked in a breath and bowed your head, preparing for his regrets, his change of heart, and his announcement he was going to leave. He hooked a finger under your chin and lifted your face back to his. 

“I have known you believe me to be with you out of a sense of duty. I have allowed you to believe that you are little more than a distraction grown into an obligation.” Taking your hands in his, his voice softened due to the overwhelming emotion in his tone. Now it was him trying to hide his tears. “I have wished my words of devotion were enough to convince you, but my actions last night have done just the opposite and for that, I deeply apologize.”

“Aramis-” You started, but he stopped you with a squeeze of your hand. 

“I love you,” he said. He kissed the inside of your wrist, dark eyes watching you, so full of adoration and care that you held back a sob. Aramis held your palm to his cheek. “Every breath of every day belongs to you. Every beat of my heart is devoted to our family. Not out of any sense of duty. In fact, you’ve tangled my senses all together.” He chuckled, the lovely sound vibrating up your arm. “I can’t tell sunset from sunrise because you are my new sun. I don’t know which way is south because you are my north star.”

You found yourself leaning into him until you were but a few shallow breaths apart. Aramis turned his gaze to the sleeping children beside you. 

“You have made me a father,” he beamed. “A dream I’d forgotten I had. You have made me a better man. Better than I thought I was capable of being. You are not an obligation, Y/N.” His eyes returned to yours and he drew even closer to you. “You are everything.”

His fingers laced into your hair and pulled your lips to his, silencing any of your cries. You kissed him with a passion like no other, but mostly you kissed him with belief. 

When you parted, you both smiled tearfully. 

Aramis continued. 

“Which is why-” He took a deep breath, trying to compose himself, but it was no use. You left him completely breathless. “I ask you once more, to do me the honor of making me your husband.” He kissed the trail of tears on your cheek. “Y/N, will you marry me?” 

“Aramis, I-” Your mind searched your heart for a reason to say no. It warned of loss and heartbreak. But you found that, no matter what, your guarded feelings would only be in vain. Your heart could not be protected by you alone because it did not belong to you. You pressed your lips to Aramis’s and whispered against them. “Yes. My answer is yes.” 

-

You spent the rest of the day taking Christine and Charles around the city, proudly walking side by side. A few people whispered as you went by and several Red Guards glared, but quickly looked away with one deadly glance from your fiance. 

The sun began to dip in the sky by the time you returned to the shop. 

To your surprise- and much to your relief- the other men managed to get through a day without destroying anything, which was a fair accomplishment for them. Any conversation between them ceased when the four of you entered. 

“Welcome back,” Athos said. 

Three pairs of eyes stared expectantly. 

“So…” D’Artagnan needn’t voice his question. He could tell from the light in your eyes what the answer would be. 

You merely gave them all a simple nod and they practically leapt with joy. 

With the children placed in their chairs, Porthos pulled Aramis into a crushing hug, D’Artagnan kissed your cheek, and Athos smiled brightly at you both, all voicing their congratulations. 

“I take it the final part of the plan is still in motion?” Porthos asked with a wink. 

“What final part?” You asked. 

Aramis ran a hand through his hair, nerves returning. 

“Well, now that everything is settled and you haven’t decided that you’ve had enough of me,” he said. “These fine gentlemen have agreed to watch Christine and Charles while you and I partake in a romantic evening together.”

“The picnic in the meadow wasn’t romantic enough for you?” You snickered. “I don’t want to take any more of their time.” 

“It’s no trouble, at all,” D’Artagnan said. “Constance will be joining us as well.” 

You gave him a suggestive smile. “I see.”

He rolled his eyes. “I think you’d better just find out what your last surprise is for today and let us take care of everything else.” 

“We’ll take very good care of them,” Athos promised. “And I’ll make sure these two don’t get into any trouble while you’re gone.” 

“As if you’re one to talk.” Porthos slapped him on the back. He quirked a brow at the couple before him. “Go enjoy your evening. We’ll drop them off in the morning.”

“But I still don’t understand.” You looked in between the four of them. “You all speak as if we have somewhere else to go. Unless you’re suggesting the garrison…”

Aramis reached for your hand with a smirk. “Just follow me.” 

You kissed the children goodnight and thanked the men one more time before allowing Armis to lead you back down the street in the direction of the garrison. He stopped, however, at a building he’d made a point to admire earlier in the day. 

“As much as I find the apartment above your shop charming, I thought this may be better suited to fit a family,” he said. 

It was a small structure, but there was a cozy feeling to its appearance as well. The potential to become a home. 

“It’s the perfect distance between the shop and the garrison, so neither of us would have to travel very far. I know it isn’t much, but Treville gave me an advance on my commission and the others chipped in as well. And I figured I could spend time fixing it up for us in between missions. I think, given some time and effort, it could be-”

You stopped him with a kiss. 

“I love it,” you smiled. “And I love you.” 

Aramis’s face split with a grin and he scooped you into his arms, kissing you deeply, despite the people passing you by. 

“Wait,” you said, putting a hand on his chest. You raised a brow in amusement. “You bought this before you asked me to marry you. What if…” 

He chuckled. “I was just really hoping you’d say yes.” 

You pulled him into another kiss, tangling your fingers in his hair. With your hearts full and the first evening you’d had to yourselves since the children were born, he wasted little time carrying you inside and kicking the door shut behind you. 

#aramis x reader #armis the musketeers #santiago cabrera #aramis #bbc musketeers #the musketeers #porthos #d'artagnan #athos #fluff #aramis fluff #romantic hero type

[ghoulsister1]

His Treasure Rochefort x Reader.

Hurt/Comfort. TW: Blood. Physical hurting. Kidnapping. Don't worry there's a happy ending. Reader is Rochefort's love. Rochefort rescues you and kills your abusive captors. Musketeers come to help him. Cardinal is alive in this AU too.

Y/N is Rochefort's lover and she often spends time with him at the Palace or when he comes to visit her at her home. She is good friends with Constance and Captain Treville, along with the Musketeers. Though the Musketeers aren't fond of Rochefort, they care about Y/N very much despite her relationship with the captain of The Red Guard.

One day, Y/N does not show up at her and Rochefort's meeting spot and when Treville finds a letter addressed to Rochefort, the captain of the Red Guard discovers his beloved has been kidnapped and held ransom by Spanish spies who will kill her if Rochefort doesn't give them the money. Livid with rage and desperate to save Y/N, Rochefort rides out to rescue Y/N and punish her captors.

●Prompt: "You'll be alright, no one can hurt you now".●

You and Rochefort have been together since last spring. You met while on a visit to the Palace to bring your friend Constance some baked goods you made. He was handsome but stern and a little cold at first. But over time you saw his soft side, especially when it came to you.

A kiss on the hand, a warm smile, a little bow of the head and a smirk, those little things just made you blush and grow close. For Rochefort, he loved your gentle nature, how well-spoken you were though you were quiet and little shy at times but he found it endearing, along with your smile and personality. Soon you two grew closer until officially you were a couple.

Constance was not happy about it, but for your sake she tried to make the most despite her dislike of Rochefort. It wasn't easy, and it was more difficult since you were good friends with Captain Treville and the Musketeers, friends to you but not to Rochefort. But Captain Treville was a little more accepting, only offering you a word of advice.

"Just be careful with him, you've seen his temper flare before Y/N" Captain Treville advised. He wasn't wrong though, you had seen Rochefort throw a punch and run a sword through someone. You've seen his mood when he was angry at people. You understood. But you knew Rochefort would never harm you, he had said so himself one night as you two lay in bed, spent from your recent coupling.

His head laid upon your chest as you ran your delicate fingers through his long, blonde hair slick with sweat yet still soft.

"I know many people have told you to be wary of me, to watch for my temper and such" Spoke Rochefort, his voice low and soft. You frowned and looked down, still running your hand through his hair as he continued.

"Just know this mon ange, I could never, will never lay a hand upon you in anger. I couldn't, no matter how upset I am or get. You are dear to me, dearer to me than gold itself. I just wanted you to know that, you don't ever have to fear me" Continued Rochefort, pressing a kiss to your bosom. You smiled and leaned down to kiss his forehead.

"I know Rochefort, I know. I trust you. I know you'll never hurt me. Don't worry my dear, I love you Rochefort" You Replied.

"And I love you more, mon ange" Rochefort Whispered lovingly as you two engaged in a passionate kiss.

And so you two have been together for a quite a while now. Today was going to be a special day since the King and Queen were away for a bit and Rochefort had sent you a letter, telling you to meet him in the garden by the fountain.

"Dearest Y/N,

The king and Queen are away for a bit. Come meet me by the fountain today in the Palace's gardens. I'll be waiting for you.

See you soon, mon ange

Sincerely Yours,

Rochefort".

You smiled, wondering what Rochefort had planned for you two. You excitingly got dressed and went out, making your way through the streets to get to the Palace. Unaware that you were being followed.

It was the last time anyone saw you.

Rochefort stood by the fountain in the Palace gardens, gazing around at the scenery and beautiful flowers that were blooming. He was waiting for Y/N to arrive. He looked at the pocket watch.

"Still early" Rochefort Thought before putting away the pocket watch. He began to pace up and down, his head turning around at the slightest sound thinking it was Y/N. The mins passed but no sign of Y/N. Now an hour passed and Rochefort grew anxious.

"Where is she? She should have arrived by now! Where could she be?" Murmured Rochefort to himself. Thoughts flew around his head, the worst thought thinking she went away with someone else but Rochefort quickly shook that from his mind.

"Y/N loves me. She is faithful and honest. Now I'm just getting ahead of myself" Thought Rochefort shaking his head. Suddenly Captain Treville appeared.

"Waiting for someone?" Asked Captain Treville. Rochefort scowled at the intrusion, but Treville just stood there not bothered by the dirty look Rochefort gave him.

"On the contrary, yes I'm waiting for Y/N. She should have been here a little earlier but she's probably just talking to an old friend or neighbour" Rochefort Explained.

"Or she's done the smart thing and found some other Prince Charming" Treville Remarked.

Rochefort's eyes darkened and his mouth twisted into a snarl as he glared at Treville.

"Never. Y/N's an honest woman, she loves me and she'd never do such a thing! Never speak of Y/N in that way when in my presence again Treville!" Snarled Rochefort stepping closer to Treville.

Treville smirked. "Have your Red Guards seen her?" Asked Treville. Rochefort scoffed at Treville.

"You make it sound like she's incapable of looking after herself. She's clever and is just as fierce Treville. I think your precious Musketeers taught her a few things" Remarked Rochefort.

Suddenly one of the Palace Guards appears, letter in hand. Treville takes the letter but doesn't open it upon seeing it is addressed to Rochefort.

"Appears this letter is for you Rochefort" Said Treville handing him the letter. Rochefort took the letter and opened it. His blood ran cold when he read the letter and it's contents.

"Rochefort,

We have your puta here with us and she's in a frightful state. We plan to kill her but not before destroying her pretty little face. If you want her still warm and breathing, give us a thousand gold francs and your puta lives.

If you do not comply with our demands, we slit her throat. You have until sunset.

From Diego Ramirez".

Rochefort's blood began to boil and he clenched his fists angrily, crumbling the letter. His hands shook.

Treville noticed the change in Rochefort's demeanour and stepped closer.

"Rochefort?" Asked Treville, taking note of his trembling form. Rochefort turned to Treville and shoved the letter into Treville's hands. Treville read the letter before looking at Rochefort with a grim expression.

"This is very serious Rochefort" Admitted Treville grimly. Rochefort shook with rage.

"How dare they! How DARE they lay their hands on her! This won't stand!" Shouted Rochefort as he stormed off.

"Where are you going?" Shouted Treville. Rochefort turned and glared at the Musketeer captain.

"To get Y/N back from those Spanish pigs!" Shouted Rochefort and he stormed off to fetch his horse from the stables.

You sat in the corner, quivering. Your nose was bleeding, your lip cut and there was a bruise on your arm, cheek and stomach. They had kicked you, slapped you and beat you. You did try to fight back and managed to claw one in the eye with your nails, wounding one of your captors. You succeeded but were given a harder beating for it.

Your only hope was The Musketeers or Rochefort were on their way to save you. You closed your eyes and sobbed.

"Please, Rochefort help me" You Whimpered tearfully as you curled yourself up.

Rochefort reached the place where you were held, this Diego Ramirez was a criminal and was well known. The Musketeers along with Treville went along with him despite his insistence that he had this himself but ultimately let them join.

"I'll guard the entrance with Aramis, Athos you guard the exit with D'Artagnan" Instructed Treville.

"Me and Porthos will go inside" Added Rochefort. Treville nodded and the plan was set into motion as Athos and D'Artagnan snuck around to the exit, eliminating anyone in their path. Treville and Aramis secured the entrance and Rochefort and Porthos broke in, guns firing.

There wasn't many men so Rochefort and Porthos made quick work, Rochefort eventually finding the cell Diego kept you in. Unlocking it and freeing you, Rochefort was ambushed by Diego.

"Come to save your puta!" Shouted Diego.

"Spanish pig, I'm more than happy to gut you like one!" Roared Rochefort as he engaged Diego in a sword fight. You watched as Rochefort battled, his need to protect you on full display. Your heart warmed at that.

Soon Diego was disarmed and Rochefort pinned him down. Rochefort loomed over him and he noticed a scratch on Diego's eye, still bleeding. Rochefort looked over to you.

"Did you do that?" Asked Rochefort, smirking proudly at you as you nodded. Rochefort turned to Diego.

"You dare lay your filthy hands upon her? I'm going to enjoy running my sword through you" Hissed Rochefort. Porthos arrived to lead out. You heard Diego scream as Rochefort extracted his revenge.

That night you were returned to your home by the Musketeers and Rochefort. The doctor looked you over and reassured Rochefort, you and the Musketeers you had no broken bones or internal injuries.

Rochefort asked the Musketeers and Treville to stay if they liked and so they did though they were surprised.

"Change of heart?" Asked D'Artagnan.

"Rubbish. He's just worried about Y/N. Same as us" Replied Porthos.

"True" Added Athos yawning.

"Though we aren't on good terms with Rochefort, he seems to really care about Y/N" Spoke Aramis.

Treville nodded at that. "He does. He does" Said Treville thoughtfully.

You laid your head upon Rochefort's chest, his arms wrapped around gently but securely. You trembled a bit as your mind flashed with horrid memories. You felt Rochefort run his hand through your hair, soothing you.

"Rochefort.....I..." You Began but Rochefort shushed you gently.

"You'll be alright, no one can hurt you now" Rochefort Spoke softly.

You trembled a bit and snuggled closer to Rochefort.

"I was so scared" You Whispered. Rochefort's jaw clenched at that, seeing how frightened you were. He knew that fear, especially when he was in the Spanish prison.

"I understand Y/N, but they're dead now. And no one will ever hurt you again Y/N" Rochefort Whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You smiled and kissed his chest.

"I love you Rochefort" You Whispered.

"I love you too, mon ange" Whispered Rochefort softly.

You are his treasure and he'll protect you no matter. And if he has to, he'd kill anyone who dared lay a finger upon you.

#comte de rochefort #rochefort #rochefort x reader #bbc musketeers #bbc the musketeers #musketeers #alexander dumas #fanfiction #comfort

[avanti-fandom]

Pairing: Reader x Aramis Summary: You are the daughter of Captain Treville and have a secret relationship with Aramis, now three years after your mother died your father gets notice of your affection for his Musketeer.

Words: 1047

You looked down over the grave, smiling in a sadly way before crouching down and putting yellow flowers on it. It was two years ago you lost your mother, three years since your father was there all alone to raise you. You became a fine young woman, devoted in everything around you, proud of what you became or rather … what your father made you. It was a simply grave but it didn’t matter, it were the memories that stayed. ‘I miss you.’ You whispered, placing a kiss against your lips before pressing those fingers in the earth. You stood up and walked back to the horse that stood waiting, wiping a tear from your cheek as you pulled yourself in the saddle. You came … your father hardly did. So if he wasn’t coming here on his own to remember his wife, at least you had to try. Your white horses cantered the garrison in. Within seconds every musketeer was looking your way while all you did was looking up to the office captain Treville had, hoping to see him standing there … but he wasn’t. ‘Y/n.’ Athos greeted you respectfully while grabbing the reins. ‘Athos.’ You replied, jumping from the horse he hold on to. This place was kind of a second home for you, having a father as a captain of the musketeers brought you here often, playing around, training. ‘It isn’t a good moment.’ Athos whispered. You looked down to the stones before looking back to him. ‘I know that.’ You stated with a weak smile, walking away from your horse and Athos to look for your father. But it wasn’t him you encountered as first, it was Aramis. ‘What’s going on?’ He asked, noticing the watery eyes. Your father never told his Musketeers much, although he often said they were family. You looked up to Aramis and he grew concerned in an instant. His hand rested under you elbow as he looked for a safe place to talk with you. ‘You cried, what is going on?’ He asked as soon as he pulled you into the weaponry depot. You shook your head, biting your lip before looking back, he laid his hands tenderly around your cheeks. ‘My mother died exact three years ago, I just,’ you felt silence as Aramis pulled you in his arms. You rested your head against his shoulder and smiled for his care and love over you. ‘I didn’t know, you know your father doesn’t tell us much about,’ now it was his time to let his words slip away in the air. ‘It doesn’t matter, I’m here to talk with him.’ You pulled back and looked up to his face. He stroke over the side of your head, resting his hand under your jaw. ‘Can I do something?’ ‘If you are lonely tonight you should know there is always somebody else lonely to.’ You smiled, not inviting him to come over but just as always … loving literary. ‘I love it when you talk like that.’ He praised you with one of his wide smiled. You laid your hand around his wrist that rested against your face as he pulled your face closer. You closed your eyes in the short kiss he gave you. ‘Now go, he needs you, he isn’t himself today.’ Aramis nodded to the door. You smiled and looked up into his bright eyes. ‘Thank you Aramis.’ ‘Thank me later.’ He winked, following you back out. When you looked up Captain Treville hanged over the wooden edge looking down to you … before he slowly looked over to Aramis. He didn’t knew what was going on between you and Aramis. They were kind of your brothers, the one more than the other. When he closed the door you turned around to him. ‘Father why aren’t you,’ ‘You and Aramis?’ He asked, cutting of your words so he wouldn’t have to suffer on the meaning of them. ‘What about me and Aramis?’ You asked, pretending there was nothing. You often spoke him alone, just as you did with Athos or Portos. ‘I know my men Y/n, I know Aramis. He wouldn’t hold back for a beautiful woman.’ ‘Yes and you should know he respects you to greatly to approach me on such a kind of way.’ You reacted right back. You walked over to him. He ignored your and looked out of that tiny little window. ‘So there is nothing?’ ‘Father,’ ‘Y/n.’ He interrupted you. ‘No, there is something. He is kind to me, listens, I love him.’ ‘He is a Musketeer Y/n.’ He insisted. You smiled fast, looking down to the ground. ‘Mother married a musketeer to. If you are worried about my safety then don’t, I’m safe with Aramis, I’m safe with all of you. Mother didn’t die because of who you are, she died because of illness. Is this what it is about?’ You asked. Treville turned around to you and shook his head. ‘I only want you safe.’ He whispered. You walked over to him and embraced him. ‘I am. Aramis is good. Do you rather want me to fall in love with somebody you can’t keep an eye on?’ You joked softly. He laughed, pressing a kiss on your hair. ‘Don’t let his charm foul you.’ He gave you advise … on Aramis. You smiled and pulled back. ‘Can we visit mother later, together?’ You asked softly. He nodded and walked with you back out. You both kept standing there, looking down to Aramis and Portos playfully fighting. ‘He is a good man.’ Treville nodded. Aramis looked up to the both of you and he bowed deeply. You smiled, a big joyful and in love smile that your father studied. ‘Go now, this isn’t a place for a woman.’ He insisted. You kissed his cheek and took the stairs down. Aramis studied your face and you nodded, both of you looking up to Captain Treville again. ‘I kill you when you do my daughter harm Aramis.’ He warned Aramis. ‘I don’t expect something else.’ Aramis answered, leading you back to the stables. ‘I will look for my lonely woman tonight.’ Aramis said as you sat on your horse. You looked down to him and smiled weak. ‘I will wait for you.’ You nodded before leading your horse out.

#The Musketeers #the musketeers imagine #Aramis #Aramis imagine #captain treville #Aramis x you

[bullet-prooflove]

To The Grave: Captain Jean Treville x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @@lovemissyhoneybee @sekretwindow @rey4kat

There is something cruel about digging your own grave, knowing that each shovelful of dirt takes you one step closer to oblivion. You almost refuse but you’ve seen what happens to a corpse when it’s left amongst the wilderness. You can’t stand the idea of the crows pecking out your eyes, of rats and foxes tearing at your belly.

It takes a while, the digging. Your muscles ache, your palms blistering as you follow the rhythm your body sets. Your mind is full of Jean, of his depreciating laugh, his warm smile, the roughness of his voice. You think of the last time the two of you were together. The scratch of his beard between your thighs as he took you to heaven, once, twice, three times before he made love to you on his bed in the garrison.

You’d slipped away long before dawn, leaving him sleeping heavily amongst the tussled sheets. You remembered pausing in the doorway, considering climbing back into bed alongside of him. You could give up the spy game, become a normal wife, one that cooked, maintained a home.

“You would never be happy with that life.” Jean had once told you. “You crave the adventure too much.”

He isn’t wrong, for years you’ve stayed one step ahead of France’s adversaries and there’s a vindication that comes with that, a satisfaction. When men look at you all they see is a woman, someone to conquer, to seduce. You toy with them, twist them, relieve them of the burdens they carry until all of those secrets spill right out of their heads, because men in positions of power, they like to boast especially to beautiful woman.

Your conquests are rarely about sex, they’re about finding that fundamental weakness and exploiting it. You know how to make a man beg for you, what he’ll offer up in exchange just for the promise of a kiss but that’s always as far as it goes, a kiss and nothing more.

Your heart, your body, your soul, all of it belong to Jean Treville, the man who will never know that you’re buried in an unmarked grave just a short distance outside of Paris.

That’s the other cruelty of what your captor is doing, he’s taking the one thing that Jean treasures most in this world and destroying it. He’ll wreak his revenge by sending your husband letters, detailing horrific, fictious things about what he’s doing to you. It will send Jean into madness, it will consume his waking thoughts, torture him in his dreams. He’ll tear apart this entire country just to find you.

And when he finally breaks, when he commits that deed he can’t come back from, when he begs on his hands and knees for your release that’s when the trick will be revealed.

There was never anything to return.

The woman he loved is gone, murdered because of something he did five years ago and that will be the thing that destroys him, that drives him to put his sword through his own heart.

“That’s deep enough.” Marsac says from behind you and you set the spade into the dirt alongside of you before turning to face him.

He’s had the pistol trained on you the entire time, his finger bearing down on the trigger. He’s under no illusion about your abilities, he’s studied you the same way he has Jean. He knows your strengths, your weaknesses, what it takes to draw you from your post in the Duke of Savoy’s convoy. When a musketeer turns up, requesting a private audience it gets your attention, especially when he’s bringing news of your husband.

The man that no one’s even aware you’re married to.

“Did you know?” Marsac asks you, his grip on the trigger tightening. “Did you know that the orders you were carrying that night condemned twenty musketeers?”

“Would it matter if I did?” You ask him and he shakes his head.

“No, you’re just as guilty as your husband.” He hisses as his footing shifts and he squares his shoulders.  

You know what a shooting stance looks like, the subtle changes in a man’s body before he pulls the trigger. You swallow hard against the well of emotion in your chest, tipping your chin up so that you can look at the sky. You want the vivid blue to be the last thing you see. It reminds you of Jean’s eyes, the brilliant hue as he looks at you during the height of climax.

When you hear the gunshot, you expect a rush of pain, a stab of agony, that’s the way it felt the first time you were shot. Instead there’s nothing.

You exhale, your gaze coming to rest on Marsac. Blood erupts from his mouth, a blush of crimson blossoms across the front of his shirt as the pistol slips from his fingers. He chokes out a word but the copper in his mouth stifles it as he falls to his knees in front of you.

Behind him stands Jean, the barrel of his pistol still smoking as his eyes come to rest on you.

“Terese?” He questions, holstering his weapon as he steps towards you.

“I’m alright.” You whisper but Jean he needs to see that for himself.

His calloused hands come to rest on your shoulders, gentle and steadying as he studies you intensely. There’s flecks of blood across your features, tiny droplets of Marsac’s life force staining your skin. His gloved thumb chases them away as his forehead comes to rest upon yours, his voice breaking.

“If he had killed you...”

He doesn’t say anything else, he doesn’t need to. The words hang in the air between the two of you as he cradles you close, his lips brushing over your hair.

… I would have followed you into the grave.

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#captain treville #treville #captain treville x reader #captain treville x you #treville x reader #treville x you #jean treville #captain jean treville #jean treville x reader #jean treville x you #the musketeers #bbc musketeers

[bullet-prooflove]

A Cottage in Nice: Captain Jean Treville x Reader

Tagging: @lovemissyhoneybee @sekretwindow @rey4kat @roschele  @sassyscottishchick @aiko24k @scorpio-1357 @kmc1989 @burningpeachpuppy @swanfan17 @dragon85faby @angelnyx @caffeinatedwoman @missyhoneybee

Jean’s fall from grace is inevitable. You see it coming the moment he turns down the position of First Minister.  It becomes the talk of France because no man in his right mind would defy the king’s wishes and your husband does just that.

It moves quickly from there, the king shows his displeasure by stripping him of his rank before he dismisses him from the service entirely. His career is shattered within a matter of weeks.

He steers clear of you in the aftermath, he doesn’t want the taint of his misfortune to muddy you. Your marriage has always been his most closely guarded secret, he will take it to the grave if he has to.

He ignores your letters, vacates his premises in the garrison and disappears in the night.

There is one other man who knows your true identity as Madam Treville and you meet with him under a rain drenched canopy a few streets away from the garrison.

“We’ve tried to locate him.” Athos tells you as you watch the droplets form puddles in the mud. “It is as if your husband has disappeared from the face of the earth.”

“He is ashamed.” You say quietly as you remove your riding gloves from pocket of the men’s jacket you are wearing. Your hair is tied away from your face with the red ribbon that secured the bouquet on your wedding day and your clad in fitted men’s breeches. It’s easier to move around Paris in this guise. Women tend to be hassled if they are alone during this late hour. “If he isn’t in his cups, there’s another place he would have gone in order to lick his wounds.”

“The cottage in Nice?” Athos questions.

It’s been years since he’s thought of that place, of the town where he witnessed your marriage. It hadn’t occurred to him that their Captain may return there, that he maintained that level of sentimentality.

“We bought it several years ago along with a small patch of land.” You reveal as you tug the kidskin riding gloves up to your wrists. “A place for an old soldier and his spy to retire in their golden years.”

It’s a joke between the two of you because you both know there will be no golden years, not with your choice in careers. The cottage serves as a safehouse these days, a place to go amidst the chaos of the world.

“I’ll escort you.” He says, removing his own gloves from his belt. “The roads at this time of night will be treacherous…”

“Athos.” You say fondly because his loyalty to you and your husband is admirable. “The Musketeers need a leader in my husband’s absence and Jean has always intended to name you as his replacement.”

“Take Aramis or better yet Porthos, even D’artagnan.” He argues as he helps you up onto your mare and you shake your head as you grip the reins in your hands.

“This is something I need to do as a wife.” You say softly. “The presence of others will only serve to silence him.”

You see the resignation in his features as he looks up at you. It’s hard for him to concede to your wishes, it’s the gentleman in him you think.

“Stick to the main roads.” He recommends as his palm smooths over the nose of your horse. “The back ones will be filled with vagabonds.”

He’s not telling you anything you don’t already know but it’s the warning of an old friend, one that doesn’t want to see you dead. You feel his eyes on you as you disappear into the night, watching you for as long as he can. He can’t stand the thought of his Captain losing anything else, especially not his wife.

*******************************************************************

It’s a long ride to Nice and you spend that time considering the state you’ll find your husband in. There have been ups and downs over the years, the rise and falls of your professions, your personal follies but there has never been anything like this. The king has thrown his whole identity into flux and you’ve seen what that can do to a man, how it can twist them into bitterness.

When you arrive at the cottage nothing is as you expected. The windows are wide open, airing it, the garden is neatly trimmed, the flowerbeds recently tilled. The vegetable patch has been replanted and there’s a small harvest sorted into several different baskets. Each one has a name tied to them written on parchment in Jean’s hand.

Local families you realise as you study each one of them. You know that some of them have suffered hardships recently and Jean can’t stand to see someone struggle, not if he can help.

You employ a house keeper and a groundsman from the village to maintain the cottage while you are away. You use money you earn from your spywork and the jewels your first husband left you to fund it. His lands, along with your own had been seized when he’d been tried for treason but the jewels, you kept as payment for what you had endured underneath that tyrant. It had been a pleasure to watch him hang, knowing that you had orchestrated his demise.

You find Jean around the back, bare chested, chopping wood. His scars stand out starkly against his firm muscles as he swings the axe down over and over  and over again. There’s a catharsis in being productive, especially for him. You watch as he tosses the logs onto the wood pile before clearing your throat and stepping into his line of vision.

“You shouldn’t be here.” He says wearily as he sets the axe down, diverting his attention to the wash bucket and rag he’s set alongside the well.

“Here or with you?” You ask him as he cleans himself with the cool water.

He doesn’t answer you, he won’t even look at you and you can tell he feels ashamed. He has lost his stature, his position. His name may be on the title to this house but it is you that it belongs to. He has nothing besides the clothes on his back, his pistol and the sword that’s been with him for almost as long as you have.

“I have no prospects as a husband.” He says finally as he wrings out the rag. “You’d be wise to ignore the affiliation you have with me, it will not put you in good stead if our relationship is ever revealed.”

You take the rag from his hand and toss it back into the bucket and he sighs because you would never let him off that easy, despite it being in your best interests.

“My love.” You say softly as you lean against the well. “Will you look at me?”

The line of his jaw clenches as he shakes his head, his palms coming to rest upon the stone rim as he looks down into the clear water below.

“I know that it feels that you have lost everything.” You say quietly, studying the profile of his features. “But you have not lost me, you will never lose me.”

“Terese…” He says, his voice rough as he finally tilts his head to meet your gaze. “I have nothing to give you…”

“Our marriage has never been about trinkets or reputation.” You say, your forehead coming to rest on his as your fingertips chase along his grizzled cheek. “It’s about love, it always has been.”

“Terese…” He begins again but you press your lips to his and all thoughts of arguing fall out of his head because there’s just you, here in this moment, anchoring him, holding him steady.

His world is full of turmoil but you’ve always been a safe space, a guiding light in the dark. With you he knows who he is, who he’s always been, who he always will be.

Jean Treville, your lover, your husband and most importantly the man you call home.

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[bullet-prooflove]

Ma Chérie: Captain Treville x Reader

@kmc1989

Treville doesn’t expect to find a woman in his bed. When he steps inside his small apartment ,he’s surprised to find a trail of clothes leading towards his chambers.  Tailored breeches, a small man’s leather waistcoat, the blue patched cloak that used to be his. He smiles to himself as he undoes the buttons of his heavy armoured jacket, stripping it from his shoulders before he hangs it on the back of his chair.

The aroma of orange blossoms floods his nostrils as he leans in the open doorway. He tuts as his gaze comes to rest on the half-naked woman draped across his bed, reading one of his books.

“I thought I taught you better than to use perfume when you’re going about your covert affairs.” He remarks as you set down the book and meet his gaze.

You’re still as beautiful as the day he married you in a chapel, high up on a hill in Nice. You’d been wearing white that day, red wild flowers embroidered in your hair. He remembers plucking each one of them from your silky locks, tracing the petals over your lips, the hollow of your throat, your breasts before he made love to you for the first time as your husband.

“You’ve always loved the scent of orange blossoms on my skin.” You remind him as he steps towards you, stripping away his shirt. It slips from his shoulders falling to the floor as he joins you on the bed. He sighs as your fingertips run over his chest, tracing over the newest scar in his collection.

“A scratch.” He promises as his hand cups your face, his calloused thumb chasing over the apple of your cheek. “If I continue to undress you will I find something new?”

You say nothing and he knows that when he removes the thin shirt that adorns your body that he’ll see another blemish on your skin, another scar for him to caress, to love.

It was never his intention to fall in love with a spy but you were captivating, enthralling, dangerous. A woman of purpose and intellect who bowed to no man. He was drawn to you like a moth to flame, exchanging information, making love in the shadows.

Your mistress is France and she may take you far, far away from him at times but your heart, it will always belong to him.

“Ma chérie.” He says fondly, his lips brushing over yours.  “It is good to have you home.”

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#captain treville #captain treville x reader #captain treville x you #treville #treville x reader #treville x you #the musketeers #bbc musketeers

[bullet-prooflove]

The Duke's Chambers: Captain Jean Treville x Reader (NSFW)

Tagging: @kmc1989 @@lovemissyhoneybee @sekretwindow @rey4kat burningpeachpuppy swanfan17 dragon85faby  @angelnyx aiko24k 

There is only one person that Captain Jean Treville gets on his knees for and that is his wife. His hands are tangled in your skirts, his fists gripping the fabric as he buries his face between your thighs. His lips ghost over your clit and you make that sweet noise, the one he’s spent months imagining.

He takes pride in your ecstasy, in ruining you in another man’s chambers, knowing his intention to bed you. He wouldn’t normally be so reckless, so undisciplined but tonight he’s not Captain of the Musketeers, he’s your husband, the one who can’t stand the sight of another man’s hands on you.

He understands it’s part of your role, a method of getting close to the Duke in order to remove the key, he holds within his pocket but truly Jean hates it. He spends the entire ball, watching you from afar, his jaw clenched and his hands clasped tightly in front of him.

You’re clad in a dress that he could never give you, in jewels he could never afford. It should rankle Jean but it doesn’t because the Duke doesn’t get to have the real you, he doesn’t get experience your joy, your sadness, you pleasure. You save those things for him.

When you slip out of the ball room, he sees the intention in the Duke’s eyes. He expects to bed you tonight, that he’ll get to experience the heaven between your legs. When he makes a move to follow, Jean intervenes, his hand clasping the other man’s shoulder tightly.

“The king wishes for you to join him at his table.” He informs the other man as he steers him away from the doorway and back towards the ballroom. “He’s very keen to hear the about your hunt today.”

Ambition, it outweighs desire every time with men like the Duke.

You’re leaving the Duke’s chambers when Jean catches up with you. He watches as you tuck the letter with the Cardinal’s orders into your bodice before he closes the door behind him. He has that look in his eyes as he stalks towards you, already unbuckling his sword belt. It falls to the floor with a dull clank as he reaches you.

You open your mouth to speak but he silences you with a kiss, his steady hands backing you up against the Duke’s desk. The papers slip from it, the inkwell clattering as he hikes your skirts up above your thighs. He peppers your throat with heated kisses, the scratch of his beard raking across your flesh.  

“Tell me you’re mine.” He whispers against your skin as he draws down your undergarments. “That I’m the only man that gets to you like this.”

“Jean.” You murmur as he bundles them in his fist and tosses them onto the floor. “You are the only man for me.”

He sinks to his knees, his calloused hands parting your thighs and he inhales because this, this really is heaven. His lips are soft when he kisses you, your breathing hitches, your head tips back and your body arches.

Lord how he worships you, he could spend all night between your legs, bringing you to climax over and over and over again.

He devours you, licking up that sweet honey before he thrusts his tongue deep inside. Your fist curls in his collar, fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt and he knows you’re close, it’s in that sweet little noise you make, the way you say his name. He pulls away just before the crescendo, his fingers scrambling to undo the laces on his breeches.

“On the bed.” He tells you, his voice raw as he raises to his feet. “I want to fuck you on his bed.”

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[bullet-prooflove]

The Musketeers Masterlist

Aramis Masterlist

Athos Masterlist

Captain Jean Treville Masterlist

Porthos Masterlist

#porthos #porthos x reader #porthos x you #captain treville #captain treville x reader #captain treville x you #athos #athos x reader #athos x you #aramis #aramis x reader #aramis x you #bbc musketeers #the musketeers #musketeers

[bullet-prooflove]

🌹

“We’ve tried to locate him.” Athos tells you as you stare out into terrible weather, watching the droplets form puddles in the mud. “It is as if your husband has disappeared from the face of the earth.”

“He is ashamed.” You say quietly as you remove your riding gloves from pocket of the men’s jacket you are wearing. Your hair is tied back away from your face with the red ribbon that secured your bouquet on your wedding day and your clad in fitted men’s breeches. It’s easier to move around Paris in this guise with the cloak covering your features. “If he isn’t in his cups, there’s another place he would have returned to in order to lick his wounds.”

“The cottage in Nice?” Athos questions.

It’s been years since he’s thought of that place, of the town where he witnessed your marriage. It hadn’t occurred to him that their Captain may return there, that he maintained that level of sentimentality.

#captain treville #captain jean treville #treville x reader #captain treville x reader #jean treville #jean treville x reader #athos #bbc musketeers #the musketeers

[bullet-prooflove]

Captain Jean Treville Masterlist

Ma Cherie - Treville is surprised to find a naked woman in his bed.

The Duke's Chambers (NSFW) - Treville gets a little jealous when he sees you with another man.

One True Love - Treville has always loved you.

To The Grave - Your past comes back to haunt you.

A Cottage In Nice - Treville disappears after he is dismissed by the king.

#captain treville #captain treville x reader #captain treville x you #captain jean treville #jean treville #jean treville x reader #jean treville x you #treville #treville x reader #treville x you #bbc musketeers #the musketeers #porthos

[dreamerinthesun]

Song I associate with musketeers x reader (+ Anne, Captain Treville and Louis)

D'artagnan - Favourite crime

Aramis - Middle of the Night

Porthos - Line without a hook

Athos - War of Hearts

Captain Treville - So this is Love (from "Cinderella")

King Louis - Bubblegum Bitch

Queen Anne - Dandelions

#the muskeeters headcanons #bbc musketeers #musketeers x reader #athos x reader #aramis x reader #d'artagnan x reader #porthos x reader #athos #porthos #aramis #d'artagnan #captain treville x reader #queen anne #king louis musketeers #Spotify

[dreamerinthesun]

“Sorry for the burned cake...”

{Captain Treville x reader, platonic!musketeers x reader}

A/N: Soo, here's one of my first one-shots. It's for the amazing birthday girl @rose-edith ☺️🤍 I hope you'll enjoy it as much as you enjoyed your big day! Love you!

Athos wasn't the best cook in Garrison, in fact he hated being around in the kitchen more than anything. How he was assigned with baking cake for his captain's wife birthday remained mystery but he still tried his best. Of course, today was a big day for the whole courtyard of Musketeers and Captain Treville decided that his beloved's birthday should be a perfect day. Why he wanted musketeers to help was still unsure but from what Athos understood, they show show their thanks to the madam Treville. “You know, the cake won't make itself...” Someone spoke up from the door with obvious amusement in their voice. The second in command looked up with a frown to see Aramis standing there with embrace full of flowers. 'Of course he was assigned flowers', thought Athos bitterly as it didn't surprise him at all. “I have never baked anything in my life”, confessed Athos beginning to move around the kitchen in a hope there was some hidden cookbook which could help him out of his misery. “It's not that hard, really. You just need to use eggs, flour, oil and sugar...” Aramis started to count on his fingers, enjoying the view of his friend in such an awful situation. Helping Athos out didn't even came to his mind. “Oh really? Well if it is that easy why don't you just do it yourself!”, snapped Athos back with a frown between his eyebrows. Turning around to face the younger musketeer Athos would love to see Aramis try to bake it. “It wasn't a my responsibility to bake the cake... But since you need my help, I will do it. You owe me one tho” Aramis sighed trying to act as if he was hard to convince but Athos's glare made him put the flowers down on the table as he began to show Athos what he should do as both of them teamed up to make at least something which was close to the birthday cake their captain imagined.

“What is taking them so long?” Porthos wondered leaning against the one of tables setted outside. His right arm was loosely put across barrel filled with the finest wine, his dark eyes watching the windows from the kitchen. After hearing sounds as if few things broke, Athos swearing loudly and Aramis's cheeky responses the oldest of musketeers began to worry for his brother's safety. Turning his head to take a questioning look at D'Artagnan, the longer haired male shrugged. "Maybe he's trying to put Aramis's body into the cake? Who wouldn't love birthday dessert with Aramis's head on it?" Suggested D'Artagnan with an amused chuckle while making sure everything and everyone else was ready. Few tables were decorated with flowers Aramis brought in, set up with multiple delicious courses captain was able to get from palace's kitchen as it was all ready for arrival of Madam Treville and Captain. Thinking about what else was missing both musketeers were taken out of their thoughts when they heard clapping of hooves on the city's ground.

“I really hope you enjoyed today” Jean Treville spoke to you with small but loving smile. He hoped today's day was the best for you and he made sure you didn't have to worry about such a things as making dinner as he nudged his horse towards Garrison. Everything inside of it was a surprise he was planning for a long time. Jean was slowly counting the days till your birthday, he couldn't wait for making the special day of yours even better.

As they arrived into the courtyard, both Porthos and D'Artagnan were waiting down by the stairs, happy to see you with their captain. It was no secret both men adored your relationship with their boss, it could be seen by the way they shared glances before yelling out "SURPRISE!”

Jumping off the horse Jean helped you down as well as he took your hand into his. His eyes were searching for the emotions in your own eyes, he wanted to see the happiness lighting up behind them and the beautiful smile of yours. Small wrinkles appeared by his own eyes at the sight of your breathtaking smile, he could stand there and stare at you forever but he was interrupted by someone barging out of kitchen door.

Everyone's attention turned to both Athos and Aramis coughing and trying to catch a breath as they were holding onto a sheet on top of which sad something what used to be dough. As the two men were trying to not die out of lack of oxygen, there was a lot of smoke coming from the kitchen. Something bad definitely happened. Aramis spotted his captain with his wife as he helped Athos back on his feet, the two men trying to ignore the tears in their eyes while they showed the completely burned dough. That was supposed to be a cake. “Happy birthday?” Aramis spoke up with questioning tone on the end of sentence. “Sorry for the burned cake...”, Athos added mumbling as his scratch the back of his neck nervously.

The sight of his two musketeers burning such a simple thing made Captain sigh under his breath. He now regretted his choices of cooks but it didn't matter at all if it was still the best day of your life.

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