We Are The Garrison -
The Musketeers TV series fan tribute

by Michelle

There are so many admirable human aspects of this show that I wanted to try to encompass at least the core ones in this tribute. It was a joy to make :)

Of All Things Good And Kind

by Michelle 

Note: This story is set between the episodes ‘To Play The King’ and ‘Death Of A Hero’ of series 3,
from the TV series The Musketeers.

She walked toward the underpass leading to the garrison as many other evenings as of late. The only difference was that tonight, he was not there to welcome her. Someone else was, though.

“Mademoiselle Bodaire,” he said politely with a soft voice, his head slightly down but his eyes smiling kindly.
”Sylvie,” the young woman corrected him with a smile, recognising the cadet. “You can call me by my first name.”
”Good evening… Sylvie,” Brujon replied shyly, making her chuckle. “The Captain apologises but he was called to the Palace last minute. Nothing serious; he should be back soon,” he added quickly, seeing her worried look. “He asked you to make yourself comfortable meanwhile.”

Sylvie smiled again and followed him upstairs. She wondered why he walked with her all the way to Athos’s quarters, but when he opened the door and they walked inside, she understood. The large table in the Captain’s workspace, usually covered with documents and maps, was set for dinner, the not-extravagant but tasty-looking food already teasing her appetite. It was more than she ever managed to get in the camp at any time of the day, and knowing Athos was well aware of it, she felt touched by his thoughtfulness.

”The Captain said you’d probably be hungry after your day,” Brujon explained. “He asks you to think of your own needs for once.”
She chuckled. “I guess I do tend to forget about myself when so many people need help.” A feeling of warmth reached her heart.

Since Athos returned to her after their first disagreement, he had shown much more interest in learning more about her and her involvement with the refugee community. He still wasn’t confident enough to reveal too much personal about himself, and Sylvie’s meetings were still out of limits with regard to his position of a musketeer, but any progress was progress, and she was grateful for every glimpse into the life and nature of the man she fell so deeply for. Moreover, he didn’t need words to express the strength of his feelings for her every day.

“You teach children to read and write, I heard?” the cadet inquired with interest, interrupting her train of thought. “Madame D’Artagnan mentioned it.”
”Yes, everyone who wants to learn,” she replied keenly. “We all have the right to education, regardless of our situation or where we come from.”
Brujon nodded, respect brightening his ever-observing eyes.

“My mother used to say the same when I was growing up. We didn’t have much but there were always some books on the shelf. Mother got them for helping out the village vicar around his house. She taught me and my two sisters to read and write,” he said proudly.
”She must be a wonderful woman,” Sylvie remarked with a heartfelt smile.
”She was,” Brujon said quietly, his face suddenly sombre. “She died when I was twelve… But I’ll always remember her.”
Sylvie’s smile changed into a sad one, but then it widened again when she spoke again.
”She would be proud of the man you have become.”

The cadet’s eyes glistened as he returned her smile. He was barely twenty yet, but his face showed a lot more maturity and experience than usual of his age. Brujon was still learning about life and navigating its perilous ways, but he was an eager and grateful student for whom giving up in any way was out of the question.

”Oh, forgive me!” he suddenly exclaimed. “I forgot the wine!”
He ran out before Sylvie could tell him she had no need for it. She laughed and wanted to sit down on Athos’s chair when another voice made her turn around again.

”That boy will break his back one day!” Constance stated at the door, amused.
”He is a good boy,” Sylvie smiled. “Very loyal and honest from what I’ve seen. He just tries too hard not to disappoint you all, I think, especially Athos.”
”Oh, tell me about it!” Constance rolled her eyes. “D’Artagnan is a bit hard on him sometimes but he sees his potential and only wants the best for him. But I think if Athos asked Brujon to clean his boots, he would do it twice a day without ever being asked again.”
Both women laughed.

“It’s nice to see you again, Constance,” Sylvie said then.
The two women had spoken only a few times before but felt an instant friendly connection.
”I’m just shamelessly using the fact that Athos has been detained,” the garrison’s only female member remarked and raised her eyebrows, teasing her friend. “He’s not very fond of sharing you… In this world of men, it’s nice to talk to a woman for a change.”

Sylvie smiled warmly. The garrison was not such a strange place for her anymore, although she rarely visited it by day. The only person who still hadn’t warmed up to her fully was Porthos. His suspicion about her progressive thoughts and where they could lead was something he would still have to work on. Sylvie was patient, though, convinced that he would see the true, non-violent nature of them one day, earning her Porthos’s trust and friendship.

“I’m happy to see you anytime, Constance; you don’t need any excuses,” she said cheerfully, making the other woman smile. Then she shook her head incredulously.
”I’ve never even dreamed I would even set foot in a place like this…” Her eyes wandered around the room, but her friend knew she meant the garrison. “A place full of people I always considered…”
“Enemies?” Madame D’Artagnan raised her eyebrows knowingly.
”Opposition,” Sylvie corrected her gently but inwardly feeling ashamed of her former misconceptions.
Constance smiled again.
”We always need to hear both sides of each story before passing judgments,” she said.
”Yes… It’s easy to think the world is only black or white when in fact, it’s often grey,” Sylvie pondered.

A look of understanding passed between the women, followed by Brujon’s return. He was holding a bottle of wine.
”I’m sorry, Madame D’Artagnan, but you are needed downstairs,” he said, casting an apologetic look at her. “There’s been an argument again.”
Constance rolled her eyes. “Let me guess: Lambert and Dupont?”
The cadet nodded unhappily, so she sighed and looked at Sylvie.
“Athos had a suspicion they wouldn’t fit in but wanted to give them a chance since they’re very good with swords and pistols.” She shrugged. “I’m sorry, I better go and calm them down before our main men return from Louvre and show them what a real argument is.”

She smiled and left Sylvie and Brujon thinking the same thing - Madame D’Artagnan was an extremely capable and skilled woman in this man’s world.
The young man poured some wine into the cup on the table. His nervous expression disappeared when he noticed the visitor’s grateful smile.
”Thank you,” Sylvie said. “You are always very kind to me.”
”So are you,” he replied truthfully, remembering the several fleeting shared moments when she came to see Athos. “No wonder the Captain is so fond of you. He smiles a lot more since…”

Brujon’s voice faded as his eyes shot up from the cup to her face. Suddenly he felt unnerved, thinking he overstepped the boundaries and crossed into his commander’s personal territory, an act inappropriate for his status. The anxiety in his eyes made Sylvie chuckle.
”Thank you, that’s nice to hear,” she said, amused and touched at the same time. “and I know he appreciates you a lot too.”

The cadet’s eyes relaxed and brightened with pride and gratitude.
”It has been a privilege serving under his command. He is a great teacher. I hope I’ll prove worthy of his trust and become a musketeer one day.”

Sylvie took in his eager but honest look, so characteristic for those people for whom loyalty and respect are the core values of their existence.
”I have no doubt about it,” she remarked, making the young man’s face glow with hope.

Brujon quickly remembered his reason for being there, though.
“I better leave you to your dinner then,” he said quietly, showing his respect again.
”Thank you,” Sylvie replied before stopping him in his tracks. “What is your first name?”
A small surprised smile appeared on Brujon’s face. “Guillaume, Mademoi…” he paused, seeing her raised eyebrows. “Sylvie,” he corrected himself with a chuckle.
”Thank you very much again, Guillaume.”

He nodded with a wide, grateful smile and turned to leave, only to stop at the doorstep, seeing Athos leaning against the doorframe, with his arms folded on his chest. A heartfelt smile reaching his eyes lingered on his face.

”Captain,” Brujon said quietly with a quick nod and disappeared.

Athos’s intense blue eyes locked across the room with Sylvie’s, flames of genuine joy dancing in them.

”It was not nice to shock him like this,” she teased him, walking around the table to meet him halfway.

”Teaches him to be more vigilant,” Athos replied, grinning. His arms reached for her waist, pulling her close.

”How long have you been standing there?” Sylvie asked as her arms snaked around his neck.

”Long enough to agree with him.” The playful expression faded from his face, his look softening. “I do smile more since we have been together.”

His blunt admittance surprised her. It was the first time he gave it a name, calling it being together. What started as non-commital nightly meetings of pleasure had grown into something much deeper and more meaningful. The way his eyes tenderly studied her face now only confirmed it.

“And I am fond of you,” Athos added quietly, dipping his head to meet her mouth in a feather-light kiss. “Very… fond…”

He kissed her again, a bit longer and more thorough this time, while her hand travelled into his hair.

When they pulled apart, he rested his forehead against hers and breathed a sigh of relief as if the kiss was everything he had been living for.

”Likewise,” Sylvie whispered, beaming. “And I'm glad the King didn't require your services for long."

"I told him I already have a more important engagement," he said in a low voice, kissing her closed eyes.
"I'll make sure to send him a letter expressing my gratitude," she remarked quietly, her senses slowly getting carried away by his touch.

The Captain chuckled before pulling slightly away to look at her, temporarily breaking the spell and stating the obvious.

”I’m afraid Lambert and Dupont will have to go. We can’t afford misbehaviour and disobedience in the garrison, especially in these troubling times.”

Finally, he stopped fighting his need and slowly kissed her temple, lingering there to savour the taste of her skin and feeling her shiver slightly.
“And I think we will need more wine…”