Work Text:
The alarm bells in Savoy sounded, while a girl in a blue cloak and a silver gown dashed down the stairs, making an escape out of the palace.
*record scratch*
*freeze frame*
Yup, that’s me. You’re probably wondering how I got into this situation.
My name is Violetta-Ramona d’Herblay, and I’ve got one rule for the kids reading this (which you shouldn’t be) don’t ever become a spy for the King of France.
I have been spying for him for a couple of years now, as a maidservant for the Duchess - Christine of France.
Now, here’s some advice for everyone else, don’t ever fuck the wife of the Duke of Savoy. No matter how attractive they are. Just don’t. Don’t even look at her, ever. That last bit is from Athos.
So what happened? Well, I was in bed with Christine. Christine was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. She had raven hair, a mischievous look on her face. She always had a gaze that seemed to be calculating and thinking. Christine was a Queen in my mind.
Christine sat against the headboard of the bed, my head in her lap as she played with my chestnut hair. Wrapped in red covers, I looked up at her in a dazed euphoria. Her whole existence brought me ecstasy. I always had to hide my smile and my blushes when around her because they came so easily. She was my happiness. She certainly knew how to pull it out, like a thread.
“Chou Chou.” She whispered, threading her fingers through my hair. I’m not going to say I purred like a cat, but I definitely did. “Are you ready for tomorrow? Louis must get my letter.”
I turned around, putting my hands on her hips.
“Yes of course. Ma Bonheur. “
“What..” I sighed, pursing my lips. I sat up to face her. “What will you do if Savoy decides to side withSpain though? Surely your husband will-”
“It doesn’t matter what my husband will do.” She smiled youthfully, kissing me chastely, grabbing my neck. We parted, and she seized my face to assure me, “No matter what happens, I will always find you. “
“I love you.” I beamed, my eyes lighting up giddily. “So much.”
“And I, you-”
“Mademoiselle d’Herblay!” A lady-in-waiting by the name of Sessily ran in. Her face was red, her breath heavy, and her blonde hair was in a mess. She wore a yellow dress, Yellow was not her colour but I digress. She was panting, and her emotions suggested she was rather worried. “You need to leave now.”
“Sessily, what’s going on?” Christine asked. If the Duchess was feeling uneasy, she certainly did a good job of hiding it. She sat up with calm eyes.
“The Duke knows,” Sessily answered, fretfully. “He knows about you two. He’s on his way here.”
I got up in shock, looking at Christine, then at my belongings, then back at her. “I. I don’t want to leave you-”
Christine got out of the bed and picked up my bag, thrusting it in my hand. She then took a necklace off her neck. It was gold with a symbol made of a blue gem. The symbol was of a blue jay. She had gotten it when she went on a trip to the Americas. “I want you to have this. I want you to leave.”
“Why?” I whispered, putting the bag on my shoulder. I grabbed her face. “I don’t want to leave you.”
“Blue Jays mate for life,” she told me, her mouth gleamed. But I could see the sadness in her eyes.“I want it to remind you, That I will always find you.”
“Goodbye,” I cried, “Mon Bonheur.”
“Until next time, Chou Chou.”
With that, I ran.
The Musketeers Garrison was a wooden structure in the shape of a “U”. Men fenced in the main area, some sat at tables eating or conversing or discussing a particular case they had been given. Athos and d’Artagnan were at one of the tables debating the politics of the crown. Captain Treville watched from the balcony as he drank some water.
I rushed in on a brown horse. Dirt and mud were all over my dress and the weather (and I ) was very hot. I was scared, worried, and rather anxious - Treville was the only person I could turn to.
“Captain,” I called, my eyes were red. I was very, very tired. “Captain, I need to talk to you.”
“Violetta!” He gasped, running down. Treville planted a kiss on my cheek. “Oh, Mon Petit Chou, what happened?”
“I have to talk to you.” I pursed my lips, emotion escaping my eyes. “It’s about the Duke of Savoy.”
Treville grabbed my arms, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Come, let’s talk”
While I was led up the stairs, Athos looked up, finally noticing me. He placed his tankard on the table watching me carefully. Athos or the Comte de la Fare had long hair tied in a half-up style, was a rather quiet man he preferred to keep all his thoughts inside and then one day die.
D’Artagnan - a young Gascon - with medium length hair, he had big eyes and a romantic hero-like look, followed Athos’ gaze.
“Who’s that?” d’Artagnan muttered, watching the intrigue in Athos’s eyes.
“That’s Vira.” Athos murmured, not moving his stare. “I have no idea what she’s doing here, though”
“Who’s Vira?” d’Artagnan asked with deep interest.
“Violetta-Ramona d’Herblay.” Athos replied.
“You are saying that like it’s obvious,” d’Artagnan said in huff, rolling his eyes at Athos, “care to elaborate?”
“Aramis’s sister.” Athos elaborated. “And the King’s spy.”
“You slept with the Duchess of Savoy!” Treville banged his hands on the table. “I know you’re not stupid, yet that was incredibly stupid!”
I sat back in my chair, my elbows on the table and my head in hand. Treville placed a kiss on my head. Then sat back on his chair.
“I love her.”
Treville nodded, placing his hands on mine, “I know. I can tell.”
“Captain what’s going on?”
We both turned, noticing two Musketeers - Athos and d’Artagnan - leaning against the doorframe. Athos showed no emotion, while d’Artagnan shone with curiosity.
“Athos,” I stated, getting out of my chair and embracing the Musketeer. I watched as he finally made his feelings clear - returning the hug.
“Vira.” He let go, grabbing on to my biceps. “What trouble have you gotten yourself into now?”
“I have to get a letter to the King, I stole it from the Duke Of Savoy.”
Treville stood up, “And…”
“I slept with the Duchess of Savoy.”
“And,” Treville repeated exasperatedly.
I sighed deeply, rubbing my eyes. “The Duke knows.”
“Wow, you really are Aramis’ sister,” the Gascon added, mainly because he felt like he needed to add something to the conversation.
I looked up at him, “and you are?”
“d'Artagnan.”
“I’m Violetta."
Treville accompanied me to the palace. I was much more cleaned up by now. I wore a crimson corset with a black dress. My hair was tied in a half-up style with a braid. Athos and d’Artagnan followed behind.
Louis XIII was in great spirits today. His smile gleamed brightly. I mean, it always gleamed brightly, but he felt rather happy today. Nothing could change his mood, nothing could cease his smirk. He wore a blue suit and sat next to his wife, Queen Anne of Austria, the Spanish queen of France.
Nothing could darken his mood.
Well, that was until I walked in.
"What are you doing here, Violetta, aren't you supposed to be in Savoy?" Louis said, or rather urging: "Well, speak up."
"I." I breathed. I held up the letter. "I have a letter. I stole it from the Duke's messenger."
Louis jumped off his throne and marched towards me, snatching the letter from my hands. He opened it, reading thoroughly. Eyes drifting across the page swiftly. "Oh, you've upset me now."
He then looked at me. His hands drifted to my neck. He touched the necklace and pulled it up. "Where did you get this?"
"Your sister gave it to me," I whispered fearfully.
"She gave it to you?" He watched me. "Blue jays. They mate for life, you know."
"So I've heard."
Louis let go of it, turned around, then hopped back on the throne. "Find the ship. We must not risk a war between Spain and France."
We sat in Treville’s office as he looked at some maps and circled areas. Athos wrote some notes on paper, and d'Artagnan sharpened his rapier. I sat watching, feeling bored and awkward.
“Captain, hey, are you going to - Vira?”
I turned around, noticing the curly, brown-haired musketeer. I got up with a start and almost fell over. I breathed heavily, emotion overwhelming me.
“Aramis?” I whispered in confusion, tears threatening to escape my eyes. “Wh-how?”
“What do you mean?” Aramis asked, concern forming on his face. He stepped forward, I stepped back in fear. “What’s going on.”
“Marsac.” I told him, gripping the skin on my forehead in stress and wonder, panic and anger, “He told me you died in Savoy, during the massacre.”
“I’m guessing he didn’t tell you the part where he was also a deserter.” muttered Porthos, a tall, well-built man, who wore a bandana, standing behind Aramis. Aramis and I both sent him a rather identical look.
“Shutting up,” Porthos said, holding his hands up.
“Why would Marsac tell you that I died in Savoy?” Aramis asked, very hurt by his friend’s actions.
“Oh shit,” I replied, smacking my hand on my head. “You don’t want to know.”
“I do.”
Except I wasn’t really interested in explaining that Marsac wanted to marry me, and he thought the reason I kept turning him down was because of Aramis. So perhaps he thought telling me that Aramis was dead meant we could finally ride off into the sunset together. No, I kept turning him down, because I’m fucking the Duchess of Savoy.
“He told you that because he wanted to fuck you,” Athos said, “didn’t he?”
I huffed: “Can we just find the ship?”
The docks were dark, ships lined the harbour. Rapier in hand, musket clipped on my belt, Aramis and I crouched down low, watching men with dim torches (and brains) exit, and head home or to the tavern, or to a brothel, or even possibly a molly house (hey, I ain’t judging).
We looked over, up at d’Artagnan, Porthos, and Athos. Athos nodded, and Porthos came up behind someone and knocked them out. We got up and followed them to the boat.
“So,” Aramis whispered, “did Marsac really want to, you know.”
“Really?” I asked in annoyance, “now?”
“Did he?”
“Marsac. Wanted to marry me, yes,” I huffed. “He thought I kept turning him down because of your friendship but I just didn’t-”
“You are into females.” Aramis nodded, smirking, I looked back into surprise.
“Did Athos-”
“Didn’t need to.”
We walked towards the boat, the others ahead of us. Someone came past, so we ducked down.
“Who is she?” Aramis murmured.
“Christine of France, the Duchess of Savoy,” I said, in sadness and anxiety. We stood up and followed.
“Shit. we are really related then.” He said following close behind.
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve been shagging the Queen of France,” he replied, before we made it to the boat. Athos stood on the deck, Porthos and d’Artagnan sat on the stairs. Athos shook his head.
“What’s going on?” I asked, pulling out my musket.
“Funny,” Porthos said, “if this ship was full of gold, you’d think it would be heavily guarded.”
“Have you checked the deckhouse?” I asked, grabbing onto my hat in thought.
“There could be men inside,” Athos replied. Athos moved d’Artagnan off the stairs and marched up to the upper deck.
“Yeah, Athos is right,” d’Artagnan nodded, “they could be waiting for a surprise attack.”
“Aramis, get behind those barrels. Porthos, d’Artagnan, accompany me above.” Athos ordered thoughtfully. The three men did as they were told. “Vira, you open the door, keep behind it.”
I nodded, moving over to the house door. I cocked my musket just in case, and opened the door slowly, being very careful to stick behind it.
“There’s only one person there,” Aramis shouted, eyes widening. Without thinking, I dashed inside.
Sessily.
Sessily was tied up, dried blood covered her face, her clothes were ripped and torn. I knew full well what had happened to her, but I won’t go into much detail because you know, I know. I pulled off her gag, cutting off her ropes.
“Who is she?” Aramis called, following me in.
“Lady Sessily,” I replied. “One of Christine’s ladies-in-waiting.”
“Sessily.” I gasped, gripping her face. Clearing her hair off it, caressing her cheeks in a gesture of comfort, I breathed: “What happened?”
“The Duke. He knew I knew about you two. He’s sending the Duchess to the Island of the Fallen Kings.” She cried weakly.
“And what of the gold?” Athos asked. Ah yes, gold is so much more important than a kidnapped Duchess.
“It’s with her,” Sessily replied, hyperventilating the sentence. “On the Urca de Lima. They’ll drop her off and send it to the Spanish c-colon-”
“Hey Sess, don’t speak” I murmured softly, “let’s get you cleaned up now.”
Porthos steered the ship, as we followed the route of the Urca. Athos and d’Artagnan took control of the sails, while Aramis and I stood on the side, watching carefully for any approaching boats.
“Do you have any idea what they are doing” I asked Aramis.
Aramis shrugged, “Fuck if I know. Athos said he would need help and I pushed d’Artagnan into that line of fire”
Athos let go of a rope, jumping down from some netting, “What exactly is the Island of the Fallen Kings?” he shouted up, pulled at some rope.
“Our father used to tell us it was a place of the ghosts of pirates,” I replied, I glanced at Aramis who sent me a soft smile. “He used to say if we were bad, we would be sent there.”
“Yeah, now I think about it, that's a pretty traumatising thing to say to children,” Aramis added with a smirk. I let out a chuckle in agreement.
"I don't believe in ghosts," d’Artagnan replied, pulling a rope down, watching the sail. d’Artagnan is a liar, he is definitely secretly superstitious.
"Nor I,“ I agreed with him, “but the ghosts aren't who you have to worry about. It's the residents of the Island of the Fallen Kings that you should watch out for."
"Pirates." Porthos nodded, in understanding. He was, after all, Porthos the Pirate.
I shook my head."Worse. Marooned."
Aramis sat down on a stool, watching the waves go by. I plopped down next him, awkwardly. Hey can you blame me? I thought my big brother was dead.
“So what happened in Savoy?” I asked cautiously, searching for Aramis’ eyes. “It was just a training mission! Where did it all go wrong?”
“The Duke…” Aramis sighed and put his hand through his hair. “It was a distraction for the Duke, who was told we were on our way to kill his son. It worked. The whole thing was set up so that Treville and Richelieu could acquire Cluzet, the Duke's spy. He knew the Duchess was passing information on to you.”
“You almost died because of me?” I was startled and sad. For a moment I felt as if I, myself, had his comrades' blood on my hands.
“I almost died for France. To keep France safe.” Aramis’s eyes followed mine, he grabbed my hands in assurance. “I have my duty, as you do. Yours was more important than the lives of those ten men who died, because you are keeping our country safe from war. You are a true hero, and no one knows it. Which makes you even better. You deserve a parade, yet you do not seek it. You are the greatest person I have met. So remarkable. I admire you so much. But Vira?”
“Oui?”
“You are still a casse couilles.”
I shoved at his head, pushing him. “Yeah, well, you are a petasse.”
Porthos turned to us and nodded, “Land Ahoy.”
The Urca de Lima was a massive ship. Guarded by many men, it held a prize that could last a person a lifetime, turn men into kings, queens into empresses, and pirates into gentlemen. You can understand how heavily guarded it was. Especially considering it was docked at the Island of the Fallen Kings, among men who committed crimes so bad that even pirates couldn’t dare look in their faces.
Porthos and d’Artagnan stayed on the ship and steered slowly towards the docks, while Athos, Aramis, and I took a rowboat to the island.
“Aramis, Athos. Look” I pointed at a man. He was clearly the leader of the island, he yelled orders to a blacksmith who was banging away at a sword. But more importantly, in regards to this man, his neck was covered in tattoos. The one sticking out was of a Fleur de Lys.
“He’s from the Bastille!” Aramis gasped, jumping up.
“He’s not going to like us then.” Athos sighed, he gripped the oars. We made it close to land slowly.
The man noticed our arrival, his smile making his face wide. It was a sneaky and evil smile. He was definitely planning our deaths - Well Athos's and Aramis’s anyway.
“Musketeers,” the man said. He definitely had prepared a speech in the mirror that morning. “I never thought the day would come where I’d see the faces of those who work for that overgrown child.”
“I never thought the day would come when I’d see the ugliest man on earth,” I let slip out without thinking.
“Vira.” Athos glared.
“What?” I rolled my eyes, shrugging. “I’m sorry that you are ugly, perhaps try moisturising.”
“Her. I want her to die first.” He pointed at me, spitting those words out. His men nodded, running towards me. Aramis unclipped his musket speedily, thrusting in the man's face.
“Touch her and your leader dies,” Aramis shouted. “You don’t want to test me, I am quite good with these.”
“Good?” Athos asked, smirking. “He’s the best.”
“Yeah, my brother may be a dumbarse, but he won’t hesitate,” I added, smirking.
The Man lifted his hand up, gesturing for his men to stand down.
“What do you want?” He grumbled, sighing through his nose. Athos moved forward, holding his hands up in a Don’t shoot me, kind of way.
“We need to find the Duchess of Savoy,” Athos said. “If you’d allow us to search for her.”
“That was a very nice way to say ‘please fuck off’” I muttered to him.
“I like to be polite.” Athos shrugged cheekily. The man nodded then backed off. We moved towards the beach.
“So where do you suppose she is,” I asked, glancing at the two men.
“Well, we could start with the Spaniards smoking opium,” Aramis replied smugly.
Athos lifted the Spaniard up into the air. The Spaniard had long hair and a very thin moustache. I could grow a better moustache than that.
Aramis gave one of his famous mischievous smiles.
“Where is the Duchess?”
“Why would I tell you?” He sneered in a choke.
“Aramis, can we do it my way now?” I grumbled in annoyance. I let out a sigh and sent my brother a glare.
Aramis sent him another smile and nodded to me.
“You should tell us now.” Aramis smirked, then let out a giggle. “Her way is much worse.”
“What is she going to do?” the Spaniard asked in a cynical chuckle, “tie my hair up too hard?”
I thought about that, “that’s pretty tempting. Aramis?”
“Of course petasse.” Aramis replied, Aramis ripped open the Spaniards shirt. I pulled out a small purse from my cloak pocket. Inside was a little box of powder. I poured the powder into my hand, then threw it on the man’s abdomen.
“Do you know what I just threw on you, Monsieur?” I asked, my smile rearing on lunacy. The Spaniard nodded vigorously.
“Hmm good” I smiled.
I stood back and pulled out my musket. I cocked it towards his guts. I circled the Musket around. Hmm. I peered up at Aramis.
I shrugged, “It might actually be better if I just set him on fire”
Aramis nodded, agreeing, “Good idea. it would mean a much slower death”
I smiled, this man was clearly not prepared for my rascality and ferality. I returned to my original spot, getting closer to his face.
I stepped back, pulling my musket up and started flicking it to increase air pressure.
“Okay!” He screamed. I laughed, clipped the musket back on my belt and moved closer.
“You gonna talk now?” I asked.
“She’s on the docks.” He replied in a gasp, “they are getting her ready to take her to the forest.”
Athos dropped him. The Spaniard started dry heaving loudly. Perhaps I should have just shot him.
“You ready?” Aramis asked, “let’s get your love back.”
We were all now in red, we had stolen clothes from the spanish so we could go in more incognito (unlike Aramis’ library history). I looked up, seeing our ship and Porthos sitting in the distance. d’Artagnan and Porthos had wondered what the signal would be, I had told them they would know when they saw it.
Athos, Aramis and were crouched low. A scream came blairing out. I stood up, before being pushed harshly down.
“Hey” Aramis turned to me, he gripped my face, “we will get her. But surprise is everything”
I rolled my eyes, I glared at him then unclipped my musket.
“Fuck surprise.” I replied in a grumble. Then ran towards christine. She was on the ground, her black hair loose and mess. Ropes wrapped around her, clothes ripped and torn. Her head was bleeding and she was covered in bruises. She was still an angel in my eyes, but of course I had to kill them because they caused her pain. I shot one ginger spaniard who was holding a whip. Then the brown-haired one who was guarding them. Many spanish turned around, whipping out their sabres.
Aramis sighed and grinded his teeth in annoyance, he unclipped his musket and pulled out his rapier, Athos followed suit.
“Surprise would have been everything.” muttered Aramis before running into the battle. Athos stabbed two Spaniards, Aramis shot two who were shooting at us from the Urca. The two fell onto the dock with a splat, that made me wince at their broken bones.
“Vira.” Aramis huffed breathlessly. “Get the Duchess, we’ll cover for you”
I nodded, before running off to Christine. I dodged swords, shot down spaniards then breathlessly made it to her.
Christine couldn’t quite believe her eyes. Tears sprouted from her eyes in happiness and relief. I cut off her ropes and pulled off her gag.
“Chou Chou,” Christine said in a daze. “I knew it! I told you we would always find eachother.”
“Always.” I said with a smile. I couldn’t help myself, we were in the middle of a battle zone. I kissed her.
“Vira” Aramis called while stabbing a blonde Spaniard, “I think Porthos has seen the signal.”
I nodded and turned to Christine, “Ma Bonheur. Can you walk?”
“I might need help.” Christine replied weakly.
“Of course.” then realised this was a perfect romantic hero moment, and decided to lift her up bridled style, Running off the dock into the beach.
A bang and a boom and a sound of debris flying everywhere was the only thing I could hear. I turned around, Aramis and Athos were safely running on the beach. The Urca was nowhere to be seen, the dock was covered in wood, dead men and was falling apart. I glanced up towards our ship, Porthos and d’Artagnan were waving.
I sighed in relief, everything was fine.
“Not so fast.”
Charles fucking Emmanuel, this pompous fool and Christine’s son, he had big curly hair definitely a wig and the most conniving smile ever, or perhaps it was fear and he was trying to bury it deeply.
“My son,” Christine said. “Please.”
“No, you ruined our family. I have to kill you. I’m sorry.” Charles cried, tears flooded on his face. He lifted his musket up.
“You don’t have to do this” I said, “just-”
He cocked the musket, “Shut up! You ruined everything!”
Bang!
I breathed deeply. I looked down at Christine then back at Charles, desolation crawling up my face. Charles fell, blood leaking everywhere. Now everything was fine.
“Christine, Oh thank the lord.”Louis cried, jumping down off his throne. Christine ran over to him, engulfing him in her arms. Louis planted a kiss on her head, then let her go and nodded to her. Christine took that as a sign to exit. The musketeers and I followed suit, but Louis grabbed my arm.
“I know your secret,” Louis told me, “about you and christine.”
“Sire I-”
“I only ever want Christine to be happy.” Louis replied, but he sighed, “ but this cannot go unpunished. You have a brother, I believe.”
“Yes but what has that to do with my punishment?”
“I believe a little retaliation is in order.” he told me, before letting me go and leaving.
“What does that-” My face went red in realisation, “Oh god, please don’t.”
The End.