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Chapter Text

First off, if it’s not obvious, this fic is based off of Disney’s “Mickey, Donald, and Goofy: The Three Musketeers”. It started as a much shorter parody with just the Beagle Boys starring as Minnie’s bodyguards, but it kind of evolved into something longer and with a bit more serious tone than that. There wasn’t going to be any romance at all, but a few people suggested it, and I couldn’t pass up giving those cute boys some love.

I did what I could with the little characterization we see of these three in the movie and hopefully, I did an alright job filling in the blanks. I tried to mirror many parts of the original, but hopefully still kept it new.

Writing a romance that takes place in the course of one day isn’t an easy thing to do, so please don’t take this fic too seriously, as it was all for fun! Enjoy! 

***

Today, I will tell you a familiar story, one with some familiar faces. “The Three Musketeers”!  Ahem…well, some version of it, at least.  And, you will see, how even the smallest change of events can change the course of an entire lifetime!

Our story begins in the gutter, in the dirty alleyways of Paris. Bertrand and Basil, twin brother beagles, had escaped from their hometown of London when they got in over their heads back home, and had fled to France.  Almost indistinguishable, the two were tall and lean, with striking yellow eyes behind black domino masks.

Bertrand, however, was the older and more sensible of the two, as well as the more intellectual. He was naturally curious, and dreamt of traveling Europe someday to see the many wonders that it held. A little bit reserved around strangers, Bertrand could sometimes come off as shy, but he was just simply perceptive and taking things in. He in fact had a great sense of humor and would often be the first to crack a joke.

Basil, the younger, was extroverted and impetuous, and a little rough around the edges. He had a strong sense of pride, and a penchant for bragging and pulling stunts for attention. Of the brothers, he tended to take the lead on most expeditions. While he wasn’t particularly clever, he was streetsmart. Living his days scorned by the masses, Basil dreamt of a day when he would finally get the respect he felt he deserved.

It was in Paris that they met up with their younger cousin, Bonaparte. But to them, he’d always just be “Shorty”. This was no doubt because of Bonaparte’s diminutive stature, but for what he lacked in height, he made up in personality. Speaking with a heavy French accent, he was something of a lady’s man and a goof. He was a bit eccentric, with an upbeat, sunny attitude whenever he wasn’t spacing out. For some time, Bonaparte had trouble telling the twins apart, but as time went on, he grew to know them like brothers.  More than anything, Bonaparte just longed to find someone who could love him for who he was.

Not long before, he had worked the streets with others from the French side of the family…but they had been captured and imprisoned by the Royal Musketeers. Like his cousins, he had yellow eyes and always wore a dark mask.

The three teenage boys were browsing the early morning streets of Paris, sliding through the hustle and bustle.  This was their usual morning routine; scoping out the marketplace for unsuspecting victims to pickpocket.

On this day, the trio noticed a group of young children struggling in an alley, and out of boredom, began to hassle them.

Zut alors! It looks like our three heroes… are actually bad guys!  

What they had not expected was to be beaten within inches of their life by the Royal Musketeers! Terrified, the mischievous boys fled, to harbor a hatred for those guardians of justice for much of their lives.

Little did they know, ten years later, they would cross paths with the force of the Royal Musketeers once again.

---

Basil, Bertrand, and Bonaparte were struggling just to make it by. In the past few years, the police of Paris had been more than doubled, and it made crime extremely difficult. The boys were forced to lie low, making a hideout of discarded coats and jackets beneath a bridge. But the very worst of it all were the Musketeers. With every prime spot for filching something under constant guard, it was making their lives miserable.

“Pfff. Stupid musketeers. I hate ‘em!” Basil fumed. The memory of ten years ago still stung. “And that big fat git, the captain, is the nastiest of the lot!”

The three boys hung in the spidery branches of the trees overlooking one of the aristocratic manors. The night was cloudy and mild, perfect for sneaking about on the rooftops, and helping themselves to some jewelry. Just maybe, tonight, they’d get lucky and make a score on the home they’d been scoping out. “You sure this is his house, Bert?”

“Double, triple checked,” Bertrand gave his brother a thumbs up. “And cause he’s got that silly recruit trainin’ to do, this’ll be easy-peasy!”

“Pfff. Stupid musketeers. I hate ‘em!” Basil fumed. The memory of ten years ago still stung for all three of them.

Bonaparte edged as far as he could out on the shaking limb and reached out to the lattice window a few feet beyond. “Ahahaa. I can’t quite get it. Je suis désolé!”

Basil rolled his eyes. “Shorty, haven’t I told ya French words make me mad?” 

“Well then, why you come to France?” Bonaparte ribbed, knowing that arguing with his cousin was like talking to a brick wall.

Basil just scowled and pushed past him, and with Bertrand, the two pushed against the glass of the window with all their weight…

Slam! The window suddenly fell wide open and the two brothers fell face first onto the hard floor of a dark room.

“Ow….look what you did!” hissed Basil, looking around and trying to gather himself.

“Look what you did!” Bertrand hissed back. Behind them, Bonaparte managed to jump and clamber through the window and join them.

“Is this da place?” he asked, stepping clumsily over their sprawled bodies.

“Oh, hoh, hoh, this is the place alright!” A deep, menacing voice responded out of the darkness, causing the three beagles to jump. Suddenly, the room was filled with bright light, momentarily blinding them- and a large, peg-legged figure hobbled towards them.

“Captain Pete!” the three cried out in unison.

“Ahahaha.” Pete towered over them with a smirk playing on his lips. “Ya know, I was expectin’ you mutts at some point or another!-” Basil cast an accusatory glance at his brother- “Did ya really think I wouldn’t have noticed you three goons tailin’ me for the past coupla days? Bwahaha!” He laughed obnoxiously and his belly shook like gelatin.

Bonaparte took a few steps back, eyes darting to the window, while his brothers cautiously rose to their feet. They’d have to make a quick and seamless getaway.

Pete noticed them backing up to make their escape. He chortled and put his hands on his hips. “Now, now, where are your manners? ‘Afore you mutts run off with your tails ‘tween your legs, you could at least listen to this little proposition I gots for ya!”

The boys exchanged nervous glances. This was almost certainly a trap.

“Uh, what kind of propo-?” Bonaparte started slowly, but Basil cut him off.

“Don’t listen to him, Shorty. Buggers like him ain’t the company we keep!” He crossed his arms and glared defiantly at Pete.

“Yeah, well why dontcha look in a mirror!” Pete shot back, his countenance darkening with rage.

Bertrand brought his hand nervously to his mouth, looking between the two anxiously. “Uh, what he’s means is-“

Pete ignored him, and then with a clear of his throat he regained his composure. “Yeah, well. You could either work against me, and I blow the whistle on you boys bein’ here so you’re locked up in no time.”  The boys looked at each other worriedly. “Orrr….you could go on doing what you do best, and help me out with a little….pest problem.” 

“And for that, you won’t blab anythin’?” Bertrand asked, confused. This wasn’t how they’d expected the royal captain of the musketeers to be at all…!

The grin on his face widened. “My lips are sealed. Do we have a deal?” 

The boys all exchanged a last glance and then nodded. But they had no idea what they were getting into.

---

“I want you chowderheads to eliminate the Princess!”

“Wha-?!” Bonaparte, Basil, and Bertrand stopped in their tracks, walking into each other comically and looking at Pete with openmouthed shock. The four were descending a dark spiral staircase deep into the dungeon-like vault  of the Musketeers Academy.

“’Ey, look, we’re criminals, yeh, but we’ve never offed anyone!” Bertrand gestured wildly.

“Well, this seems like the perfect time to add some skills to your resume!” Pete laughed. “I mean, of course, unless you want to spend the rest of your lives behind bars?”

He had them. The three continued to follow Pete down the flight of stairs morosely, hating this situation more with every step.

“So why do you need the princess dead all a sudden?” Basil demanded spitefully. “Far as I could tell, you two is pretty chummy.”

“Princess probably set a weight limit for them royal carriages,” Bertrand whispered softly. Bonaparte exploded with laughter.

Pete gritted his teeth. He didn’t know how he’d be able to stand working with such idiots. “Oh. How could I have forgotten to mention?” He grinned. “Why, the big reason to be riddin’ of that hoity toity princess…is so I can takes her place as King!”

The boys smashed into each other again as they came to the bottom of the stairs. “King?!”

“Appreciate the vote of confidence, boys,” Pete grumbled, leading them into a large stone room only lit by flickering torches.  On the far side of the wall, stood a purple gilded throne and a table with assorted objects on it. “But dontcha fret. Help me help you, and under my rule you three’ll be free as birds!” He winked.

The boys glanced and nodded amongst each other. That did sound promising…anything was better than how they lived now.

“Lieutenant Clarabelle! Clarabelle!” He called out.  From out of the flickering shadows, a figure then suddenly spoke, making the beagles jump a little.

“Bonjour, mon capitan!” Entering the room came a cow wearing a deep red dress and a large cowbell around her. Her brightness faded as she noticed the Beagle Boys in the room. “What are they doing here?”

Bertrand smiled awkwardly. “Er, hello.”

Pete walked up behind the trio and laughed, clapping the two twins on the shoulder. “Come on now, don’t be like dat, Clarabelle! These are the schmucks that’re gonna help me seize tha throne!” He looked positively triumphant with those words.

Clarabelle raised an eyebrow, not convinced. It was one thing for Pete to have gone and gotten some nobodys involved, but these guys? From their looks, torn and tattered, they were total bums.

“Well, I’ll leave you to fillin’ them in on everything,” Pete said, turning around and tottering out of the room without a second look back. “I’ve got plans to hatch, coups to scheme!” His laughter finally died out as he vanished into the halls.

The three boys looked at Clarabelle and she groaned and crossed her arms. “Honestly, I have to do everything around here. Do you three even know the Princess’s day by day itinerary?”

“D’eh?” They looked clueless.

Clarabelle shook her head. “Well, as leader of her Musketeers, Captain Pete is charged with knowing where she is any moment of any day. Every meal, every conference, every ride out to the city…” She looked expectantly at them.

“So you want us to find out…”

“When she’s alone…”

“…And kill her then!”

It sounded easy enough.

---

That evening, the trio studied a shoddy map of the palace Clarabelle had given them.  Within a few minutes, they would begin their first excursion checking around the palace.

“The Princess likes to take a stroll in her garden at dusk,” Clarabelle mentioned, walking with the Beagle Boys up to the foot of the long spiral staircase. “My bet is you’ll find her there.”

Basil and Bonaparte started up the stairs, but Bertrand held back anxiously, smiling at Clarabelle. “Hey, uh, by the way, my name’s Bertrand. Friends call me Bert. That’s Bas-“

“I didn’t ask,” Clarabelle pursed her lips and looked at him with mild annoyance.  Bertrand put his hand to his face nervously, wondering what he’d done wrong, then rushed up the stairs to join his brothers.

The three reached the stone walls enclosing the immense garden, and one on top of another, they stacked up to see over it.

Bonaparte, the lightest, clambered onto the wall as his cousins struggled below. Glancing around through the elaborate topiaries and flowerbeds, he was on the lookout for any sign of movement…

Aha!

“That’s the princess?” Bonaparte asked with awe, watching the delicate figure walk through the blossoming hedges. “Oh hoh…she is très délicieux! Shame we have to kill her.”

Basil and Bertrand shot a glare up at their cousin, still trying the best they could to see over the wall.

For some minutes, the three silently watched the Princess and what could only be her Lady in Waiting talk. Then the two proceeded to walk up to the palace steps. Nightfall was upon them.  With their targets now out of sight, the three Beagles wasted no time, and under the pale stars, the three vanished back into the dark.

---

Chapter Text

The boys made several feeble assassination attempts throughout the next few days; hurling hornets into the garden, agitating the Princess’ horses while she was riding, and even trying to flood her bedroom with bathwater. But try as they might, their heart just wasn’t in it.

Not only that, but they always returned to Pete’s lair covered in the backfiring of their sabotage; stings, trampling hoofmarks, or the sweet scent of lavender oils, to name a few. Now they were out to try again…

“Watch out!” Bonaparte shouted. The three beagles ducked as the chicken coop exploded and screaming birds were flung everywhere.

They slowly looked at each other, eggs splattered all over the ridiculous papier-mâché masks they were wearing.

Basil growled and popped it off angrily. “I told you twits these stupid Pete masks wouldn’t work!”

---

“Nothin’! Absolutely nothin’! Are you mutts really so incompetent you can’t take out a measly princess!?” Pete was twitching with rage, his face turned to a horrible shade of purple.

The boys exchanged glances nervously. He’d been mad last time they failed, but now… he wouldn’t throw them in the pit, would he?

Suddenly something else caught Pete’s eye. The poster for the opera “Pirates of Penzance” was plastered to the wall, and as he looked at it, a brilliant idea began to form in his mind. Yes, it was perfect!

He flung his attention back at the Beagle Boys. “Scratch everything I said before!” He ordered. “Now, I want your one and only priority to be to keep the princess safe!” And without another word, he stalked off, leaving the Beagles to ponder his meaning behind him.

Bertrand looked at the others, confused. “I…what is it we’s doin’ now?”

Bonaparte shrugged. “I think he said to drop a safe on the princess.”

---

“Who's gonna tell the bloomin’ boss the bad news!?” exclaimed Basil.

“I ain't saying nothin’, you tell him!” Bertrand yelled back.

“Me!? I told him last time, you silly twit, and I don't believe in doing it twice!”

The boys sprinted down the stone steps, distraught after their last debacle. What terrible punishment would Pete have for them this time...?

But as the three reached the bottom of the stairs, Basil brightened and grinned. “Oi, here’s an idea. Shorty! You tell ‘im.”

Bonaparte looked back at his cousin, puzzlement all over his face. “Tell him what?!” he asked, shrugging.

Bertrand’s eyes shifted nervously and he put his hand to his mouth. “That we, you know…botched the job.”

Bonaparte gulped loudly. “He’s not going to like that.”

The smallest Beagle Boy pushed open the heavy door and carefully walked inside. From across the room, he could see Pete in his throne, glaring at him.

“H-hello there?”

Pete abruptly got out of his seat and shambled towards him, eyes narrowed. “Don’t look good when only one of you shows up, does it, small fry?” he jeered, shutting the door and circling around the Beagle like a vulture.

“Blimey. I can’t hear nothin’ but step, clop, step, clop.” Basil had his ear to the door, trying his best to overhear the conversation inside. Bertrand came next to him and looked through the keyhole, chuckling.

“Have a gander at Monstro’s better side.”

But their joke was short-lived; Pete had heard their mumbling. He clawed through the door and flung them violently into the room.

Basil and Bertrand pointed at Bonaparte. “He’s got something to tell you, boss!”

“Well, we did exactly as you said…and dropped a safe on the princess!” Bonaparte exclaimed.

“You WHAT?” Pete’s grabbed Bonaparte by the collar furiously. “I didn’t say drop a safe, I said KEEP HER SAFE, you dolt!”

“Well, that’s good. ‘Cause we missed her.” offered Bertrand. Pete threw Bonaparte to the ground with rage.

“Now listen, you mutts, I’ve got a plan, and it ain’t to kill the princess! It’s to kidnap her!”

The three arched their brows in looks of complete bewilderment. “Whuh?”

“The opera. It’s tomorrow night! The princess has gotta be gone by then, or I can’t become king!“ Pete couldn’t believe he had to remind them, again.

“Ohhhhh!….” The boys smiled, trying to let this information sink in. It didn’t.

“I…don’t get it,” Bonaparte said.

Pete facepalmed. “Lieutenant Clarabelle!”

Clarabelle sprang into the room, giving a salute. “Oui, oui, mon capitaine! You bellowed?”

“Throw these clowns into the pit!” Pete yelled.

Clarabelle jumped up and down with excitement. “Oui, oui! Le pit!”

“No! Not the pit!”

“Anything but le pit!” The trio begged to be spared.

Clarabelle smiled. “Bon voyage, losers.” She pulled a lever and the floor beneath them fell away, and the trio tumbled down the shaft, screaming.

The pit really wasn’t so bad.

For one thing, it was only a few feet deep. But on the other hand, they were under Clarabelle’s constant watch.

Bonaparte, Basil, and Bertrand sat in the shallow cavity, doing what they could to amuse themselves in the long tedious hours. Bonaparte was scribbling in the dirt with a stick while Basil lay on his side, flipping through a TV guide, and Bertrand sat by the wall playing with a set of jacks.

The three had been down there for a few hours when Basil’s patience finally began wearing thin. “Oi, ask when Pete’s comin’ back!” he grumped, tossing his magazine to the side.  He had mostly been glancing through the pictures, because unlike Bertrand, he wasn’t completely literate.

Bonaparte looked up to where Clarabelle was sitting, legs crossed and with a gossip column on her lap, seemingly doing a crossword.

“’Ellooo!” Shorty called to Clarabelle. “Do you know-?”

“No talking in the pit!” Clarabelle snapped, jangling her cowbell.

Bertrand looked up from his game of jacks and saw the tabloid she was holding. “Erm. I’m guessing you like celebrities.” He smiled at his own pathetic joke. 

Clarabelle groaned with annoyance and he felt a bead of sweat form on his brow under her hard gaze. He was just trying to be friendly, make conversation… “Er, what I mean is, how’d you come to work for a bloke like Pete yourself?”

Clarabelle regarded him for a moment, then crossed her arms. “None of your business.”

Basil gritted his teeth and tagged his brother in the shoulder. “What’re you doing?!” he hissed softly.

“Uh…I dunno. Thought maybe if she could trust us, she’d help us out?” It had made sense in his head, at least. He could feel his ears getting red as he looked up at Clarabelle. Unlike the other two, he was a little more self-conscious when it came to girls. Basil had a penchant for chatting up any beautiful woman he saw, bragging about his skills with the sword and the bow. Bonaparte was a regular Casanova, and he was perfectly at home being surrounded by pretty girls; he flirted and oozed charm like a pro.   

Suddenly the sound of Pete’s noxious singing voice filled the underground. Clarabelle jolted up and rushed out of the room to greet him, and moments later, he waddled into the room.

The trio tried to look busy.

“Hello boys.” Pete’s shadow fell upon them.

They looked up into his glowering face and immediately dropped what they were doing, standing up stiffly. Bonaparte scratched out his crude picture of Pete and gazed up with an innocent look.

Pete put on a fake smile. “Congratulations, boys. You passed the test!”

Basil, Bertrand, and Bonaparte looked at each other with bewilderment.

“I’ve been watching you three. And I’ll tell ya what! You guys have got what it take to be musketeers!” Pete clapped his hands together and gave them a big toothy grin.

There was a an awkward silence. Pete’s eye twitched.

“Musketeers?!” echoed Bonaparte. Bertrand and Basil couldn’t believe what they’d just heard. It had to be a joke.

“Directly to the Princess,” Pete nodded.

Clarabelle appeared behind Pete, a stunned expression on her face. “You can’t really be saying you want to make them musketeers?” She looked down at the group with a frown.

Pete guffawed as he waved the boys to come out of the pit. “Well, I had some other schmucks lined up for the job, but then I realized these three couldn’t be more perfect!” He slapped Bertrand and Basil hard on the shoulders as he laughed.

“But how does that help?” Bertrand asked. “We thought you wanted the princess kidnapped.”

“And ‘afore that, dead,” added Basil tersely.

Pete gripped them tighter. “’Cause! As her loyal musketeers, I want you to grab her, find a remote tower somewhere, and lock her away forever…so no one can ever find her again!” The idea was clearly tickling him pink.

“So…we’re not real musketeers.” That was a bit of a relief to Bonaparte. To do something like that would be a complete flipside to how he’d lived his whole life.

Pete burst into laughter. “You three? Real musketeers? Oh, that’s rich! Whooo!”

The remark hurt a little, but the Beagles said nothing. Pete withdrew three Musketeer uniforms from behind him. “Now, y’all get changed. We’s got a meetin’ with the Princess! You got me, dingbats?”

The boys saluted and took an outfit each. “Sure thing, boss!”

---

The outfits were unlike anything they’d worn before, and consisted of a handsome red tunic and blue and gold tabard marked with a fleur-de-lis. The ensemble was completed with a feathered cavalier hat. But best of all, they had been given brand new rapiers.

Bonaparte smiled and struck a pose in front of the mirror. Bertrand and Basil had to admire their reflections too. They almost didn’t recognize themselves.

Clarabelle even peeked around the corner to get a second look at them. As annoying as these three were, she couldn’t deny they were kind of… cute? The very idea made her shake her head in annoyance.

Pete led the newly garbed trio into the palace for the first time. They marveled at the vastness of it all- every room bustling with the activity of castle staff, great halls with shining windows, and especially the exquisite works of art decorating the interior.

“This place would be a goldmine to rob!” Basil whispered to his brother, his eyes gleaming as he took it all in.

They stopped in front of a huge, ornate door that led to the throne room.

“Now remember, you’re gonna act as her bodyguards. Then ya kidnap her, lock her up and throw away the key, what you boys do best!” Pete thumped his chest. “And I’ll take over as King.”

Bonaparte was thinking hard. “But doesn’t the Princess herself have to appoint you?”

Pete pointed at him. “Got it. And I’m always two steps ahead. You boys are gonna get back to the opera house by tonight. I’ve got another stooge to take the stage!” He turned and pushed the door open a little.

“Now, just stay here whilst I go schmooze Princess What’s-Her-Name!” Pete ordered, and he slammed the door behind him.

“Alright, blokes,” Bertrand said, “I dunno what we’s gonna be up against, so be prepared for anythin’!”

“Musketeerin’ is just a buncha glorified prancin’ about,” dismissed Basil, admiring the décor.

“And girls drooling over your heels ‘cause you got a feather in your hat!” added Bonaparte. He could deal with that.

“But this is Pete puttin’ us on the job,” Bertrand had to remind them. “We can’t afford any hiccups.”

But Basil had his eye on the golden suit of armor near the door, his eyes twinkling. “Oi, get a load of that axe.”

Bertrand had to grin when he looked at it. “I’d like to see the damage that could do!”

“I’d like to see how much it’s worth!” Bonaparte responded, taking an eager step towards to it…

“And so, it is without further ado...” Pete was finishing up, “That I present, for your safety and protection…your musketeers!” The door flung open, revealing the Beagle Boys on the floor in a pathetic heap beneath the heavy piece of armor. They certainly hadn’t expected that to happen.

Princess Minnie raised an eyebrow as the three struggled. This was Pete’s highly skilled group of gentlemen?

Suddenly her eyes widened.

The third figure, rather short in stature, emerged from underneath the wreckage. And their eyes met.

Just imagine! He’ll stride into the room…light will glow from him. I’ll hear music! He’ll bring me flowers and sweep me off my feet. Eyes still locked, the musketeer came into the room, smiling at her. Minnie could feel her heart start beating faster as he approached. And I’ll know he’s the one when he makes me laugh!

“It’s time to cut the cheese!” Daisy’s voice popped her out of her daydream. She walked in with a platter, handling a butter knife, when suddenly-

“She’s got a knife!” exclaimed Basil.  The three beagles tackled her to the ground and Basil pinned down the blonde duck’s arms. “You thought you could get the jump on us, eh?!”

Minnie stood up, furious, her hands clenching into fists. “Unhand her! She is my lady-in-waiting!”

The boys paused for a second, then quickly stood up and backed off, putting their hands behind their back. Pete snorted laughter.

“You’ll have to forgive them, Your Highness. They’re like a well-oiled machine…that’s wound just a little too tight.” 

“Nous sommes désolés, Your Grace!” Bonaparte added. “We thought, she was a villain out to hurt you!” He gave her his most charming smile and she couldn’t help give him one in return. 

Basil smirked and tipped his hat to Daisy. Simple misunderstanding, of course.

Instead she crossed her arms and turned away, scoffing. “I don’t think so.” Basil scowled and stepped back.

“Oh, well then, I feel safer already!” Princess Minnie extended her hand out to Bonaparte and he gave it a quick kiss. Bertrand pulled him back, trying to be the levelheaded one of the situation.

“I’m Bertrand,” he said, removing his hat respectfully. “This here’s Bonaparte. And that’s….”

“Basil.” The younger brother walked up with his arms crossed, glaring up at the Princess.

Daisy turned to Princess Minnie. “Is it just me, or do these guys seem like trouble?” She whispered loudly.

Pete mopped up sweat. “Uh, I can guarantee these fellas are top of the musketeers academy, princess! The finest around!”

With all this bragging, Bertrand really hoped Pete wouldn't ask them to prove their musketeering skills. They were all pretty able with a sword, yeah…but what if there was more to it than that?

“Oh, are they really?” Daisy looked at the three suspiciously. “Because I believe this is my first time ever meeting a...monsieur Basil.”

“Yeah, well I wouldn’t remember you neither,” Basil shot back, before Bertrand stomped on his foot.

“Oh, well I think they're wonderful! Thank you Pete.” Princess Minnie nodded her approval.

Pete blew a huge sigh of relief. The first step in his plan was complete.

---

Chapter Text

“Haha, this musketeering stuff is great!” Bertrand laughed, taking in the scenery as their carriage rolled through the vivid countryside.

“Bit more pleasant than one of our breakout getaways, at least,” Basil agreed, flicking the reigns of the horses. Bonaparte sprawled out totally relaxed behind them, lying by the luggage, with the brim of his hat covering his eyes.

“We’re gonna have to change course soon,” Bertrand reminded his brother. Basil grinned and gripped the reigns tighter. He was going to enjoy this part.

Beneath them, in the furnished carriage, the Princess and her companion were chattering, sipping the soda and nibbling on the fries they’d just gotten.

“Oh, isn’t it romantic, Daisy? Being protected by three dashing musketeers? And the little one is so handsome!” Minnie gushed.

Daisy frowned. “Uh, yeah…he’s kind of cute and all…but you’re forgetting something. They’re musketeers, commoners, non-college-bound. You know what that means.”

Minnie paused to take a sip of her drink. “Our love is…forbidden?”

“Bingo.”

Minnie squealed. “A forbidden love! How romantic!”

Suddenly the carriage jolted, and Daisy tumbled out of her seat with a squawk; the horses were picking up pace.  Something was amiss. Minnie peered out the window and made a small gasp. None of it was familiar to her! 

Daisy stood up next to her. “What on Earth? What is this place?!” The carriage continued to go faster, shaking the two girls as the landscape passed by in a blur.

Minnie banged on the roof of the carriage. “Musketeers? I demand to know what’s going on!”

And then the carriage suddenly jolted to a halt, flinging everyone forward with a shout.

Minnie slammed the door open, her bangs askew, and Daisy, stumbling with dizziness, followed right behind her.

The Princess looked at where they’d ended up. They were in a grey, marshy valley, strewn with dead trees and muddy hills. She glared up at the Musketeers, who too were recovering from the sudden stop.

“Where are we?!” she shrieked, hands on her hips. “What have you done!”

The trio cringed and the older two pushed Bonaparte forward, and he jumped down towards her.

“Uh, um…well…” Bonaparte stuttered, a little bit intimidated. Then he thought up a quick lie. “F-for your safety, Your Grace! We’re your bodyguards, after all!”

“Huh?” Minnie asked. The other two musketeers leapt down from the carriage and nodded.

“We thought we spotted an assassin following us, Your Grace!” Bertrand supplemented. “We had no choice but to take another route out of there.”

“Got ya out of there fast, yeah?” Basil said, smiling.

The Princess softened. But Daisy had her doubts. “Oh please. Nobody would ever try something stupid like that in broad daylight!”

Bonaparte grinned. “We did!” He quickly put his hands over his mouth as the other two gave him a warning glare.

“Well, then what are we supposed to do?” Daisy put her hands on her hips. “Your Highness, I know you haven’t forgotten, but you'll be expected by all of France to be at the opera tonight.”

“Aaand that is why you can't possibly go back there!” Bertrand improvised. “Your assailant will no doubt be in waiting for you there too!”

“It’d be a bloodbath!” Basil agreed. 

Minnie fretted. “Oh dear. I wonder what I could’ve done to make someone so angry?”

“Awww.” Bonaparte rubbed her arm comfortingly.

Daisy joined her by her side. “Don’t blame yourself, Your Highness. Criminals are all just bad seeds from the inside out.” Basil bristled a little at her words.

Minnie shook her head. “Well, I can’t just run and hide! Especially if someone so dangerous is threatening our city!” She looked at the musketeers. “Please, return me at once!”

Oh, bollocks.

The boys hesitated. They needed to keep her out of the way, at least through tonight. That much was clear.

“Ahh…how ‘bout we returns you first thing in the morning?” Bertrand offered. Of course, once Pete had been crowned. “I mean, it’ll be evenin’ soon, and that’s when the bad guys really come out…”

Minnie thought for a moment, then nodded reluctantly. “I suppose you three know best. We’ll wait until tomorrow morning.” She looked around at the unwelcoming wetlands they were in. “Should we make some sort of campsite?” The idea rather appealed to her; it was something she had never done before.

Daisy groaned. “Oh, no, Your Grace. I’m sure we can find someplace to take shelter for the night. They wouldn’t expect you to sleep in the dirt, would they?” She cast an accusatory look at the trio.

Basil sighed, exasperated. “Do you have to butt into everything?” 

“Well, if it concerns the Princess, then yes.” Daisy stood up against him and matched his glare.

“Ey, come on now…!” Bertrand shoved between the two gently, pushing them off each other.  “Uh, how ‘bout this?” He reached into his pockets and pulled out a jack in the box, turning the musical handle with a smile spreading on his face.

Basil knocked it out of his hand.

“Hmmm…I think I know a place we can spend the night,” spoke up Bonaparte, looking upward. Above them, a long wooden bridge hung over the river and waterfall beside them. And beside the bridge, there was a ledge where a tall, stone stood. 

Daisy sighed. “Humph. Adequate, I suppose. Then let's go.” She took Princess Minnie by the arm and the two began their trek up the hill. Bonaparte scampered after them, eager to be by Minnie’s side.

Bertrand and Basil lagged behind.

“That was a bit of a barney, wannit?” Basil seethed, whispering to his brother. “Why don’t we just grab ‘em and tie ‘em up?! Be done with all this babysittin’ business!”

Bertrand gave him a stupefied look. “Well, blimey. I hadn’t thought of that.” He bit his lip. “I guess I got so caught up in the act…”

Basil rolled his eyes. “The both of you.” He thrust a biting glance at Bonaparte, who was smiling and chatting with the Princess up ahead.  Yuck. This job, plain and simple, sucked. 

“But things are goin’ our way,” Bertrand assured his brother. “I mean, we might not haveta resort to such measures. No tyin’ anyone up and no screamin’.”

Basil pouted. “But I like the tyin’ and screamin’.”

Bertrand patted his brother on the back. Basil had always been stubborn, and he hated changing their routine up.

“Look, if things get out of hand, we’ll go back to the old fashioned way, alright?”

Basil frowned and made only a “tsk!” in reply. He knew that Bert was the more levelheaded one, and as much as he hated to admit it, he was the one usually getting them out of the trouble Basil got them into. Heck, he’d even retained some of the little home schooling education they’d gotten as children back in London. He had every reason to trust his brother’s judgment.

The group were now at the top of the hill and reached the rickety bridge.

“Are you sure this place is safe?” Minnie asked. It looked worse for wear.

“You boys should walk across first,” Daisy said, looking back at them.

Cautiously, Bertrand and Basil stepped across the old bridge, testing it out, and the others trailed behind them. They reached the large iron door of the tower and began tugging on the handles.

“What the…bloody doors won’t open!” Basil growled, pulling on the iron handle violently.

Bertrand pulled too, but to no avail.

“Hmmm, guys….!” Bonaparte had noticed something. But he didn’t get to finish- with one last heave, the twins pulled so hard they toppled over the bridge and down into the moat below with a scream and a splash. 

“Oh, dear!” Minnie cried, while Daisy chuckled softly.

“And, voila!” Bonaparte went up to the door and it opened wide with a light push of his finger.

Bertrand and Basil headed irritably back up the hill, soaking wet in their musketeer outfits. It was lucky they were strong swimmers, or they might’ve just gone over that waterfall.

  They finally reached the doors once again, ajar this time, and entered to see the other three looking around the tower.

“This place must have a hundred floors!” Minnie said with awe, craning her head to look up at the ceiling. It was too far off to see.  Bonaparte beamed, glad to have amused her.

Daisy noticed the boys entering and couldn’t hide her grin. “Nice of you to join us.”

Minnie spun around, her face falling. “Oh, let us help you with that! You must be soaked to the bone!” She pulled out a fancy pink handkerchief from her pocket and handed it to them, and they gladly accepted it. “And you should really get out of those wet clothes!”

“Eh??” The two looked up, completely flabbergasted.

“Oh, well at least your hats and such!” Minnie corrected, blushing a little. Bonaparte chuckled at his cousin’s discomfort.

Bertrand slowly lowered his hat and undid his tabard. Basil hesitated, and then snatched his both off, flinging the soggy mess onto the floor. Their damp little scruffs of dark hair clung to their skin.

“So….what’s with the cages?” Daisy couldn’t help observing the numerous gilded cages hanging from the rafters of the tower. Suspicious.

“Er…parakeets,” Bertrand sweated, as he and his brother started to squeeze their sodden clothes out.

Bonaparte nudged Minnie gently. “Maybe the fair Princess would like to take a little stroll?” He gave her a playful wink and she giggled.

“Well, as long as we stay nearby, I don’t see why not.” Having lived so sheltered, Minnie loved the idea of exploring. And to go with him? It sounded wonderful. She took his hand.

“Ah, Princess, wait for me!” Daisy stumbled after the couple as they exited, hand in hand. She had a bad feeling about this…

The Princess, Daisy, and Bonaparte left the twins to themselves. After a moment, Basil exhaled a deep, frustrated sigh. “Those girls are impossible.”

“Shorty knows what he’s doin’,” Bertrand said. “Don’t worry.”

“And this is called a dandelion!” Bonaparte said proudly, plucking a puffy white sprout from the ground. Minnie “oohed”.

“We don’t have any of those in my garden,” she said as he handed it to her. “Only roses…and petunias…and the like.” She blew gently and the little seeds of the weed fluttered into the air.

“You have to make a wish!” Bonaparte grinned, watching them float off on the wind. Minnie closed her eyes. She knew exactly what she would wish for…

Suddenly Bonaparte put his hand in front of her. “Uh-oh.”

Ahead of them, a stretch of nettles spanned out through the field towards the grove of willow trees they were headed.

He turned to Minnie. “Ah, you won’t mind, will you? S'il vous plait?”

Minnie looked back, confused. “What--?”

Her words were cut short as Bonaparte slipped his hands beneath her back and legs, picking her up. She let out a startled cry, throwing her arms around his neck, and she nestled nervously against him.

“Ahahaha.” Bonaparte smiled. “Sorry if I scared you, mon chéri.  I’m not going to drop you.” He started through the brambles, wincing a little but doing his best to retain his composure for her.  Minnie looked up at him, her heart starting to beat like a drum again. He really was such a gentleman!

“Your Majesty?!” Daisy’s voice interrupted her thoughts. Her lady-in-waiting was struggling a far distance behind, looking around and holding up her dress to keep it from getting dirty.

Minnie looked back for a moment, but was too distracted to take much notice. As they reached the grove, Bonaparte placed her down gently, and they stood smiling at each other.  Bonaparte was covered in nettles, and Minnie giggled, brushing them off of his clothes with utmost care. And as he made her laugh, she knew he was the one.

He gave her a sheepish grin. She really was lovely.  He had always been a romantic, but there was something about her. Something special.

EDIT- While he had often been taunted for his diminutive size, he had learned not to take such things to heart; he was joyful, positive, and lived each day like his last. But now

Minnie reached out for his hand, fluttering her eyelashes. There had never been a more magical moment, and she could hear the music starting again…

“Afloat on the breeze,” a voice from nowhere suddenly burst into song, “On wings of love!”

“’Ey, buddy. Do you mind?” Bonaparte snapped.

A random troubadour turtle gave him a surly look, and then walked off-screen, dejected.

“Oh Bonaparte,” Minnie pulled him close, wanting to kiss him more with every passing moment. He cupped her chin with his hand, his thoughts running the very same track.

“If only Daisy understood…” she paused, and looked up and around. “Um… oh, dear. Where is Daisy?”

Chapter Text

“Do ya think Clarabelle will think better of us once this job is done?” Bertrand asked his brother, shuffling quick on his feet with his rapier in his left hand. The two were having a fencing match to dry themselves off.

Basil rolled his eyes. “You twit. Keep going on about her and I’m gonna be sick!” He made a jabbing movement, and their swords crossed with a clang.

Bertrand’s face went a little red and he looked down at the floor momentarily. “I like her, is all. She’s got nice…er, ears.”

Basil gave him that moment to collect himself and scoffed. “Yeah, well, keep your head! Shorty’s already lost his and we need everyone at their best for our plan…“

Just then, Daisy burst into the tower, dress covered in thorns and mud, her face fuming. She plopped down on the stairs, crossing her arms.

“Oh, how nice of you to join us.” Basil threw back at her.

Bertrand lowered his sword. “You’re alone? Where’s the Princess?”

Daisy grunted. “She and loverboy are off having a perfectly lovely outing. Without me.” She tried to hide the hurt. After a while of trying to keep up with the two, she had just gotten lost and ended up here again.

She started picking at the drying mud on the hem of her dress, sniffling softly.

Bertrand and Basil looked at one another. What were you supposed to do with a crying girl?!

“Um…uh, you’re welcome to stay with us!” Bertrand said awkwardly. He nudged Basil.

“Oh. Yeah, I was just about done beatin’ this bloke’s sorry behind!” Basil grinned at her, tossing up his sword and catching it masterfully.

Daisy raised her eyes at his enthusiasm, resting her head in her hands. “Well then. Show me.” The least she could have is a little entertainment.

“Watch yourself,” said Bertrand, the two brothers circling each other. Basil was grinning.

“Oi!” Basil leapt forward and Bertrand just managed to parry his blow.  It was just meant to be for fun, but he could see in Basil’s eyes that he was entirely serious. 

The twins leapt, back and forth, jabbing and evading, and had been doing so for a few minutes, when Basil looked back again at his audience with a clever smirk. With another lunging movement, he faked out his brother, and Bertrand stumbled backwards- giving Basil the perfect chance to knock his sword out of his hands.

“Ahh!” Bertrand’s rapier fell to the floor near Daisy’s feet with a metallic thud.

What a show-off!

Daisy, forgetting her troubles momentarily, clapped politely and laughed. She picked up the sword at her feet and looked it over. “So this is what handling a sword is like.” She smiled a little and waved it. “En garde!”

Basil came over to her to retrieve his brother’s weapon, and tensed.

“’En garde?’ Don’t you know, French words make me…” He stopped himself as her eyes widened, and a rueful look came over his face. “I mean…yeah. Sure.”

He reached out and took the piece back from her. “But this ain’t no toy!” he added sternly.

Bertrand shook his head, knowing his brother was just peacocking again.

  “Well, the least I can do is help you finish wringing out your clothes,” Daisy said, offering the two a friendly smile.

“Um…thanks.” Bertrand replied, a little surprised. Neither of them had expected such a turnaround from her. 

Soon enough, all three were sitting on the stairs, squeezing the last bits of water out of their uniforms.

“So I’m wondering, how many criminals have you guys busted, anyway?” Daisy asked, trying to strike up some conversation.

“Er…”

“Oh, at least a hundred of ‘em!” Basil boasted, beaming at her. “More than a few involvin’ the royalty such as yourself!”

Bertrand snickered at his brother’s fervor. Obviously, he was talking about their criminal record. Basil hated to be looked down on and scorned… so being able to talk about doing something positive must have been a nice change, even if it was a lie.

“Wow.” Daisy said, gazing at them with awe. “I guess Pete does know what he’s doing, some of the time.”  The twins grinned at each other.

“But there’s one thing.”

They looked up.

“Do you always have to wear those nasty masks?” Daisy asked disapprovingly, reaching out to touch Basil’s mask. He flinched and grabbed her hand defensively, just inches from his face.

The two stared at each other for a moment, not saying a word.

She was so close, he just knew she could hear his heart hammering away...

Bertrand couldn’t take the awkward silence. He leapt to his feet.

“Hang about, is that’s Hailey’s Comet!?” he shouted.

Basil started and released Daisy from his grip, looking uncomfortable.

Daisy rubbed her arm, her face growing hot.  No, it hadn't hurt at all; he had been surprisingly gentle. And that was what intrigued her so…

Not long afterwards, Bonaparte returned with Princess Minnie, the two of them glowing with affection and holding hands.

“Daisy! So there you are. I was so worried.” Minnie ran over to her friend with relief. “We were just about to start a search…!”

“Oh, I’m fine, Your Grace,” Daisy said, waving her hand. “I had some…enjoyable company.”  The boys now were changed into their full outfits, as well.

“Oh, how nice.” Minnie was glad to see Daisy warming up to her bodyguards. “Well, the sun is just setting over the hills, and it looks ever so lovely…”

Sunset?!

Bertrand interjected suddenly.

“Ah, well, evenin’ is almost on us, let’s give you ladies some girl time, yeah?” He could feel his face heat with embarrassment as he drew attention to himself. He nudged Basil and grabbed Bonaparte from Minnie’s side. “We’ll, uh, just be out the door if ya need us.”

Bonaparte leered at his cousin. “What the heck was that?!” Basil looked rather bothered by the outburst as well.

“Pete said he wanted us to show up to the opera tonight,” Bertrand reminded them. “And if that’s the plan, we-.”

“We need to get going!” Basil finished his sentence, nodding. He had totally forgotten about the opera.  Now the sky was in twilight; a gradient of oranges and pinks falling into soft purples and blues. The very first twinkling stars would appear any minute.

Bonaparte just looked down at the massive waterfall with an inscrutable expression.

“Shorty?” Bertrand noticed his sudden change of attitude. “You okay there?” Thankfully, the waterfall wasn’t loud enough to drown out their conversation.

Bonaparte clenched his tiny fists and looked back at his cousins. “Pardonne-moi. But I’m having second thoughts about all this.”

“What?!” shouted Basil.

“Easy!” Bertrand held his hotheaded brother back.

“I don’t want to be a part of this anymore,” Bonaparte elaborated, looking up at Basil square in the eye. Very rarely had Bonaparte ever stood up to Basil’s taunting, but now he had something. Something he wanted to protect.

“Blimey, are you just stuck on that girl?” Basil groaned. “Ever since you laid eyes on ‘er, your heads been in the clouds!”

As harsh as he was being, Bertrand had to agree. “You have been pretty spacey, Shorty. More than usual, I mean.”

Bonaparte bit his lip and looked away, refusing to say anything else on the matter. Why had he expected anything different from these two?

Basil scoffed. “Fine. Be a chicken. Come on, Bert.” The twins left Bonaparte on the bridge and headed back towards the door.

Inside, the Princess and Daisy were giggling on the steps, finishing off some little cakes they’d saved from the carriage ride.

“Oh, Daisy. Bonaparte and I are nothing alike, and yet it feels like we just complete each other.” Minnie was oozing on, her face bright. “It must be destiny!”

Daisy gave her a doubtful look, not really convinced. “Forgive me for saying so, Your Majesty, but that sounds…” She paused, looking into her Princess’s shining face. She couldn’t bring down her spirits. “…Just lovely.” 

She then smiled. “Well, I’m glad that destiny doesn’t control my love life. The stars would probably pair me up with some big grump like Basil!” She and Minnie started giggling uncontrollably.

Right then, Bertrand and Basil passed through the doors and towards the two girls.

“Oh, where’s Bonaparte?” Princess Minnie asked playfully.

“Had somethin’ else to deal with.” Bertrand drew his sword.

“Don’t worry, Your Grace, we’ll keep you safe and sound,” Basil said, pulling out some rope. “Just…think of this as for your own protection.”

Minnie and Daisy’s smiles fell away. No! The two leapt to their feet, ready to run for it.

But the twins were too fast, their reflexes too sharp. They snatched both girls and quickly tied their arms and legs. Bertrand heaved the bound girls over his shoulders and tramped up the stairs.

“Sling them birds in their cage!” Basil barked. Bertrand flung the two screaming girls into the nearest hanging enclosure, and the door slammed shut behind them.

Bonaparte peeked in apprehensively around the corner of the door.

“Bonaparte!” Minnie called out. “Help us, please!”

The short beagle just looked up at her, his eyes wide and filled with regret. And then he vanished, the other two right behind him.

“Oh dear. Oh no.” Minnie hung her head, heart shattered completely. Perhaps Daisy had been right to have her doubts. It seemed like destiny had deserted them.

The Paris night was filled with sound and light, aristocrats and nobles swarming to the opera house to the see newest masterpiece. Why, nobody could afford to miss such an event!

The trio pulled in their carriage to the front of the opera house and left it with a valet before running up the steps and into the grand lobby.

“Blimey, lookit all them deep pockets,” Bertrand commented, the boys navigating through the guests.  Although the opera didn’t start for some time yet, many of the visitors were entertaining themselves by socializing in the foyer.

“They’s gotta be loaded,” assented Basil, fighting the urge to nick a pearl bracelet on a passing woman’s arm.

Then Pete, looking out up on the upper balcony, spotted them. “There ya’re, boys!”

He lurched down the stairs and the trio obediently went to his side. He gave them a knowing smile and pulled them away from the crowd. “So…how is our Princess? All tied up?”

“It’s all A-OK, boss!” Bertrand replied. He had to give himself a pat on the back. They had pulled this job off without a hitch! He smiled at his companions, but neither of them seemed particularly pleased. 

“Great! …Hey. What’s wrong with shortstack?” Pete noticed Bonaparte’s silence. It was very unusual for a loudmouth like him.

“Oh, eh, just ate some bad cheese.“ Bonaparte said quickly.

Pete snorted. “Whatever. But, I’m sure with all this bad actin’, you’re gonna love this part!” He grinned and took out three outfits: two exquisite black and purple suits and a pink, frilly dress that looked remarkably like one of Princess Minnie’s.

“Now, change into these duds. If you boys wanna fit in here without raisin’ questions, you’re gonna have to dress like you belong. “ He flung the two suits at Bertrand and Basil. “And right now, we can’t afford to have anyone askin’ what some grungy little musketeers are doin’ at a high class event like this.”

“Aye, but we’re the bodyguards to the Princess,” insisted Basil, looking at the tacky outfit with disgust. Cufflinks and bowties were not his thing. Bertrand, on the other hand, didn’t seem too phased, and was already changing into his new apparel.

“But she’ll be retirin’ by the end of the night!” Pete reminded them. “And if that don’t look suspicious enough, I don’t know what do.”

“What am I doing with ‘dis?” Bonaparte held the dress, confused as ever.

“And you are the most important part of my scheme!” Pete said, pulling the shortest beagle into a squeeze. “You’ll be impersonatatin’ the princess and name me, your wonderful loyal Captain of the Musketeers, as your successor!” He roared with laughter. “Then, I’m just gonna seize the throne and rule happily ever after!”

Bonaparte forced a smile. “Ahahaha. Funny, boss.”

Bertrand and Basil were now almost finished changing into their intricate ensembles, struggling with all the buttons and snaps. Additionally, they had two fancy powdered wigs to wear that made them look- and feel- utterly ridiculous.

Bonaparte’s costume came with a tiara that had rounded ears to look just like Minnie’s- and his smile faltered a bit at the thought of her, but he did what he could to push it away.

Pete almost seemed to read his mind. “When all this is done, and I’m King of all France….” Pete’s smile darkened. “We can finally kill off that princess once and for all!”

Bertrand, Basil, and Bonaparte’s eyes widened.

Sure, they had been tasked with killing the Princess before. But…that was before. When it seemed to be a necessity. Now, Pete was getting his dream another way and still would not stop until Princess Minnie was dead.

“B-but you made us her musketeers!” Bonaparte cried, not understanding the logic behind all of this.

Pete gave a harsh laugh. “Didn’t I say it already? I only made ya chumps musketeers ‘cuz I knew you were crooked mutts who didn’t mind dirtyin’ your hands! I mean, anyone else I coulda hired…would probably wuss out on me and grow a conscience!” He almost sounded ready to vomit at those words.

“Ey, there’s more to us Beagle Boys than a little dirt on our hands!” Basil said indignantly. “’N fact, we was doin’ a fine job as royal bodyguards there!”

Pete shook his head condescendingly. “Aw, really? Do I have to spell it out for you?” He pointed at each of the boys. “You’re a hot head. You’re a pushover. And you’re just too small!” Basil, Bertrand, and Bonaparte, respectively, blinked in stupefaction at his insults. “Why, I wouldn’t have you yahoos as real musketeers if you were the last recruits in all of my beloved France!”

And in that moment, the three realized just what they’d gotten into.

“And now. Since that’s done and over with... I want you two to be on the lookout for any suspicious characters! Shortstack, you come with me. We gots a special seat reservated up in the balcony.” He grinned and waved Bonaparte over to his side.

Bonaparte opened his mouth to speak, but Bertrand clapped a hand over his mouth and nodded. Reluctantly, the youngest Beagle followed Pete, looking back in time just to see Basil mouthing something to him and Bertrand giving him the “A-OK”. Maybe they had a plan? That’s all Bonaparte could hope for.

Pete laughed the whole way down. “It’s gonna be curtains soon! ‘Curtains’! I love it!”

--

“You heard all that, right?! I can ‘ardly believe it!” Basil was furious.

“I know, but what can we do?” Bertrand sighed. “You heard him! He’s gonna become king…”

“And make life a nightmare for everyone in France!” Basil finished, scowling. “We should of made fast work of that blighter the very night we met!”

The two paced the upper floor of the lobby of the theatre, racking their brains for ideas. There was no way Bonaparte could just refuse his role in Pete’s plan…who knows what that crazed git would do to him? And nobody would believe their word against Pete’s.

A commotion began coming from the foyer, and the boys looked at each other. The opera would be beginning soon, and the seats in the house were starting to fill. They didn’t have much time!

Then Bertrand saw someone below, as the very tail of the crowd.

“Oi, Clarabelle!”

Clarabelle, dressed in her standard red gown, jumped up in surprise and looked up. When she saw Bertrand, she blinked in surprise. Bertrand ran down the stairs and met her halfway, smiling broadly. Basil wasn’t far behind him.

“What are you doing here?” Clarabelle asked, watching as the last trickle of the crowd disappeared into the theatre. “I thought you guys had kidnapped the Princess.”

“Yeh, well, about that…” Bertrand didn’t really know how to explain it. “We think Pete has to be stopped.”

“He’d make a bloody awful king,” butted in Basil.

Clarabelle frowned and put her hand on her hip. “What are you talking about?”

Bertrand scratched his face nervously. “Well, it’s just…we think you’s like us. Tired of gettin’ pushed around by a bloke who don’t give you the time of day for all you do. Hurt by all the times he’s gone on about his plans and not once mentioned you.” He could feel a flush creeping over his face and neck as he spoke, Clarabelle’s glare boring into him.

“And how do you know what I’m like?” Clarabelle snapped.

Basil growled with annoyance. “Are you daft or something, girl? The guy’s a maniac!” Bertrand pushed him back.

“I don’t.” Bertrand’s ears were heating up now. “Er…I just think you’d be better person than all this…than someone who’d help let this crazy bloke take control.”

Clarabelle’s gaze slowly softened as she regarded the Beagle Boy in front of her. And then she gave him a smile.

“What can I do?”

Bertrand’s ears pricked up at her words and he looked back up at her, smiling.

“Well, if you could stall the opera for as long as you could…” Bertrand said. Clarabelle gave him a little salute and started up the stairs.

“Ahh….just one thing!” Bertrand called after her. She turned.

Bertrand’s face was now beet red. “Er….do you thinks when we get back from savin’ France and all that…you and me could go out?”

Basil groaned loudly.  “Ahhh! C’mon, Bert!” Really, right now? Under normal circumstances, he’d congratulate his reserved brother for finally having the courage to ask out a girl, but this wasn’t the time for that!

Clarabelle winked. “Alright. Deal.” And with that, the Beagles and Clarabelle went their separate ways.

--

As the night continued on, the interior of the tower grew darker and darker. Minnie and Daisy, locked in their cage, could see hardly a thing but the stars so distant in a faraway window. But it didn’t make much difference.

Minnie sniffled, just looking sullenly into the darkness and not lifting a finger, while Daisy did her best to wriggle free of her bonds. She had been at it for hours, and she was sure she was close to a breakthrough- and then she could get herself and the Princess out of there!

“I knew those guys were bad news the moment I saw them,” she seethed,  thrusting her body against the iron bars. “They’ll regret the day they ever messed with…”

“Oh, what does it matter, Daisy?” sighed Minnie. “I’ll never find a love like that again.”

“That’s not like you at all, Your Grace!” Daisy insisted, her temper rising a little. “Just because you’re hurt once doesn’t mean you can’t try again.  I was living that way….” She faltered. After a second, she shook her head and just lay her head on Minnie’s shoulder. “We’re going to get out of this. Surely Captain Pete will notice we’re missing.”

Just then, the door creaked open and a little bit of illumination spread over the floor. Two tall shadows stepped through the patch of moonlight, and Minnie and Daisy tensed.

Then a familiar voice rang out in the darkness. “Princess Minnie?”

“Bertrand?!” Minnie looked up, and Daisy’s mouth opened with mild surprise. The twins, accustomed to working in the shadows, had no difficulty seeing their surroundings, and galloped up the stairs to the cage the girls were imprisoned in.

“…Basil?” Daisy called hesitantly.

“Oi, I’m here too.” His rough voice answered from just beneath her.

Daisy exploded. “And WHAT were you thinking, leaving the two of us here to rot in the middle of nowhere?! Binding us up and throwing us away like some kind of prisoners? Hasn’t your mother ever taught you how to treat a lady?!”

Basil totally stopped in his tracks, taken aback by her outburst. “Wha-“

“So what is it?” she continued, her tone sarcastic. “You two went out for a big battle with the Princess’ alleged assailant at the opera?”

Basil paused a moment to see if she had anything else to add, then mumbled uncomfortably, “Er. Yeah. That was a lie.” Although she couldn’t see him, he could see her, and he could hardly stand it.

“A lie?” echoed Minnie.

“Aye, the truth is, we ain’t musketeers. We was just hired by Pete.” Bertrand confessed. He stretched up and carefully began picking the lock on the enormous cage.

Minnie gasped. “Wait…Captain Pete?”

Bertrand nodded, continuing to fiddle with lock. “He’s been after your throne for ages. But then we realized…”

“How big a mistake we was making,” Basil sighed. How he hated to admit he was wrong.

Click! Bertrand broke the lock and the door swung open.

Daisy faced Princess Minnie. “Your Highness, how do we know we can trust them now?” She could just hardly see the outlines of the twins, reaching into the cage to free them.

“Oh, I think they’ve proven they mean well enough by coming back.” Bertrand scooped up the Princess.

Basil carefully scooped Daisy into his arms, lowering his gaze repentantly, cringing a little under the angry glare he knew she was giving him. “Uh…don’t want you to trip,” he said awkwardly.

“The thing is, Princess, only you can really stop Pete!” Bertrand said, and the two started carrying the girls down the flight of stairs.

“Well, he certainly won’t get away with this!” Minnie cried. “As soon as we get back to Paris, I’ll have the entire guard alerted to his treason!”

They finally reached the end of the stairs and stepped out onto the bridge, and into the light. Bertrand immediately began untying the Princess. Basil, however, hesitated, glancing at Daisy in his arms. She turned away with a humph…and then slowly looked back at him.

“You look ridiculous.” She gave him a little smile in spite of herself.

Basil grinned. He’d forgotten how dumb he looked in this costume. He put Daisy to the ground delicately and untied her.

Minnie couldn’t hold back the question she was dying to ask. “What about Bonaparte?”

“Shorty’s at the opera now, tryin’ to stall for time ‘til we get there,” Bertrand said. He paused, noticing the Princess’ face. “Um…he woulda been here if he could of. He never wanted none of this to happen. Fact is, I think he’s quite taken by you.”

Minnie looked up at him, taking in his words. Could that be true…?  “Please, musketeers…or…”

“We’s the Beagle Boys!” Basil said, his voice already filled with more cheer.

Minnie smiled. “Well, Beagle Boys…we’ve got a kingdom to save!”

Chapter Text

Bonaparte gulped as he looked down at the restless crowd in the seats beneath him. The opera was due to start any moment. He could only hope whatever Bertrand and Basil were planning, they’d do it in time.

Pete was waving to the crowd and then turned to Bonaparte with a big grin. “Alright, Shortstop. Do your stuff!”

Zut! “Uh, wouldn’t it be more dramatic to announce you after the show is over?” Bonaparte suggested, smiling.

Pete leered at him. “Yeah sure, when half da audience is asleep from this snoozefest! Unless you want you and your friends to check into the high tide suite of Mont St. Michel, do it now, runt!”

Bonaparte sweated. Mont St. Michel was the most hideous house of torture in all of France. He didn’t have much of a choice.  But there was one thing he could do. He whipped out a compact and started powdering his face, while admiring himself in the little mirror.

“I have to get into character!” He gave Pete a big grin. “Just give ze princess a moment, please?”

Pete grumbled and stomped his peg leg on the floor.

---

The twins, Daisy, and Princess Minnie finally had reached the opera house, and jumping out of the carriage, they rushed inside.

The lobby was empty with the exception of three dismal looking janitors sweeping up.

“Everyone must be in the theatre,” Bertrand said.

“It could be startin’ at any moment!” Basil cried.

The twins ran to the theatre doors, with the girls right on their heels. They couldn’t hear music…

Suddenly the door opened and hit Bertrand in the face with a smack.

“Oh geez! Sorry!” Clarabelle came through the door and helped steady him on his feet.  “I’m so glad you’re back.”

“Ugh…how are things?” Bertrand asked.

Clarabelle’s face was grave. “I did what I could, but I could only delay the actors for so long. It’s happening as we speak.” Then she saw Princess Minnie and bowed. “Your Majesty!”

“Clarabelle, you get Princess Minnie and Daisy out of here,” Bertrand said. “Somewhere safe. Then give word to your musketeers!”

“We’ll handle Pete ‘til then.” Basil assented.

“But I want to help!” Minnie argued. “If Bonaparte is in trouble…”

“Let us take care ‘o him,” Basil said, offering her a smile. “We’s cousins, after all.”

“Hold on,” said Clarabelle. She picked up the clothes she had dropped, a pile of dark tunics and hoods. “I wanted to apologize…for the hard time I gave you.”

“That’s ours,” Basil said, surprised to ever be seeing them again.

“Pete was going to have them burned,” Clarabelle explained. “His reasoning was, ‘the nasty rags looked too much like…peasant filth’.”

“Thank you.” Bertrand smiled at her. “But for now, you three’d better get out of here.”

“Let’s go, Your Highness,” insisted Daisy, taking her by the wrist. Clarabelle led them out of the hall and out of their sight.

Bertrand and Basil slipped into the theatre just in time to see Bonaparte, all dolled up, finishing up some sort of grand speech. “And therefore…I now present your new ruler, King Pete!”

The crowd gasped in shock. Up on his balcony seat, Pete started doing a victory dance.

“Aww, Shorty.” Basil looked on with concern. He gave him a rough time, yeah, but this was just too hard to watch.

Then the music began. The curtain went up. The opera was beginning!

From the back of the theatre, the twins tried to catch their cousin’s eye. After a few moments, Bonaparte looked distractedly away from the stage and saw the twins waving wildly.  Finally!

Bonaparte glanced at Pete and wasn’t surprised to find, five minutes in, the idiot had already fallen fast asleep.

The little Beagle scurried downstairs and joined his cousins. “Did you do it? Are they safe?”  He had a hopeful expression on his face.

“It’s not over yet,” said Bertrand. “We’ve got a plan.” The three exited the theatre and then headed to the dressing rooms.

The backstage area was immense. The dressing rooms spanned several wide rooms filled with hangers of theatrical clothes. Although the rooms weren’t entirely empty as they had hoped, the boys knew that the way they were dressed, they could pass for actors back here anyhow.

“Here ya go.” Basil handed Bonaparte his outfit, and the little Beagle’s eyes twinkled and he kissed it dramatically.

“I say we do this old style,” Basil said, tearing off the uncomfortable frilly garment he was wearing as fast as he was able.

“Couldn’t have put it better myself,” Bertrand agreed, and they followed his example, changing quickly into their old beloved hoods. They looked at one another, feeling better for the first time in a while.  If they were going to do this, they might as well do it as themselves!

Then Bertrand’s face fell. Basil caught it immediately.

“Y’know we’ll likely never see ‘em again, right?” Basil said teasingly. But there was a sad tone to his voice.

Bertrand sighed. “Yeh, I know. Fact is, we’ll probly be in the lockup for life by the time this is all over.”

Bonaparte’s heart was sinking. “I’ll never see the Princess again!?”

Bertrand turned. “It’s better that way, Shorty.”

Basil sighed. “Beagle Boys and ladies like them…just don’t go together. Now for their sake…let’s do this.”

They could hear the singing coming from the stage, and nonchalantly, the trio made their way up to behind the curtain, trying to not draw attention. Bonaparte peeked over the curtain and up to where Pete was snoozing away.

“With cat-like tread, upon our prey we steal, in silence dread, our cautious way we feel-!“ Onstage, the great prop of a ship on waves was just being rolled away to reveal a second layer of the set. It was now or never.

The Beagle Boys lunged onto the stage with their hoods up, brandishing the swords.

“Nobody move and nobody’ll get hurt!” shouted Basil.

“We’re just here for Captain Pete!” Bertrand yelled.

The music stopped and most of the actors onstage froze, while a few ducked behind the curtain and hid in fear.

Pete jerked out of his sleep and peered down at the stage.

“Hey, who are those chuckleheads? ‘Dis ain't part of the play!” Pete yelled. He turned to howl some orders at the little guy, but the seat next to him was empty.

“Give it up, Pete!”

“You’ve done enough damage for one night!” 

Pete stomped up to the stage. “That's enough! Can't have ya tarnishing my rep, I'm the king. Who are you wise guys?!”

But as he got closer, he recognized them. Those mangy clothes, those devilish eyes…

Pete blew up. “You! I knew you mutts were trouble the moment I met ya!” He tottered onto the stage, drawing his own sword. The audience gasped and the remaining actors onstage fled with terror in their eyes.

“But it don’t matter if you ain’t got the Princess!” Pete laughed. “Y’see, as King, I can just snap my fingers and you’ll be six feet under.” 

“Not so fast!” a feminine voice rang out.

Minnie, Daisy, and Clarabelle were standing on the side of the stage. Minnie’s hands were on her hips and her face was full of rage.

Pete’s jaw dropped open. Now wait a moment here..!

“This is an outrage, Pete!” Minnie yelled, taking a step forward threateningly and shaking her finger.

“Your royal duty is to serve and protect Her Majesty with your life!” Daisy reminded him angrily.

Pete stuck out his lip and lowered his eyes in feigned apology. “Bien sewer, Your Highness. It was these fellas ‘dat kidnapped you. I was only tryin’ to hold things together in your absence!” He tried to take a step towards Minnie, Daisy, and Clarabelle, but the boys quickly barred his way.

“Don't you lay a hand on my girl,” Basil warned, his eyes narrowing dangerously. He looked towards the others. “Let’s have a bit ‘o fun with this blighter, eh?”

“We’ve had enough of your lies, Pete!” Bonaparte hollered.

With a furious growl, Pete lunged at the trio, his sword gleaming in the light. The audience gasped- they still thought this was part of the play. The sounds of steel clanging filled the hall, as the four bobbed and weaved around the props in a deadly dance.

What the Beagle Boys hadn’t counted on was Pete’s own skill with a blade…but then, he wasn’t the Captain of the Musketeers for nothing. For several minutes, no one could land a hit, and it seemed to be an endless stalemate…

Then Pete stumbled, his peg leg sliding across the varnished floor.  He let out a yelp and fell back against the wall.

The boys surrounded him, pinning him to the corner.

“Take that!” shouted Bonaparte.

“It’s all over. Looks like you got in over your head,” Bertrand said, smirking. The trio closed in on Pete, their swords pointed at him.

Wham! Pete swiftly drove his sword into the wall, severing a rope attached to a pulley. Suddenly, an enormous stage decoration plummeted down from the ceiling, right for them.

“Aaahhhh!” The three beagles yelled in terror. Bonaparte, the agilest of the group, just managed to evade the object, but the ornament crashed through the floor and took Bertrand and Basil with it.

The girls gasped, and Daisy and Clarabelle rushed beneath the stage as fast as they could.

Pete laughed and pointed his sword at Bonaparte. “Looks like you’re all on your own, now, small fry.”

Bonaparte gulped. Those two must have been flattened like crepes!

Beneath them, Daisy and Clarabelle were helping Basil and Bertrand back to their feet. “Are you alright?” Daisy asked, touching a cut on Basil’s forehead.

“Wh-what’re you doing here, anyway?” Basil mumbled, wincing a bit at the wound.

“Oh, hush. You didn't really think I’d leave, did you?” Daisy fretted. She hugged him close. Then she smiled playfully, unable to resist teasing him. “And I’m your girl, aren’t I?”

Basil turned a deep shade of scarlet and stammered. He hadn't realized he’d blurted that out loud.

“What about Pete?” Bertrand asked.

“Forget him. You’re more important right now.” Clarabelle squeezed Bertrand’s hand. “We still have a date, so you better not go canceling on me now.”

“Oh…’Course not!” Bertrand laughed bashfully and the two smiled at each other.

Meanwhile, overhead, Minnie was watching with growing concern as Bonaparte fended off Pete. He was dwarfed by the hulking musketeer captain, and a well-aimed blow would be the end of him.

Pete lunged forward and knocked the little Beagle backwards, causing him to drop his sword. Minnie gasped.

“It’s all over, pipsqueak! You’re all alone, and with you out of the way, getting rid of the Princess will be easy as pie!” Pete rocked with laughter.

Bonaparte glared up at Pete. And then he smiled. “Wanna bet?”

Pete snorted. “That’s a sucker bet.”

“Oi! And you’re the sucker!” shouted Basil from behind him. Pete’s legs were swept out from under him and with a THUMP he landed hard on his butt, his crown toppling off and rolling a distance away.  Behind him, the twins were standing with their hands on their hips, determined as ever.

Pete ogled, shocked to see the mutts were still alive and kicking.

“Ready, boys?” Bonaparte grinned at his cousins and stood over Pete.

“How’s this for a hothead?” Basil jabbed Pete hard in the stomach, making him bellow in pain.

“How’s this for a pushover?” Bertrand slammed his weight into him, sending him barreling over.

“And I may be très petit, Pete…but I’ve got my friends that make me feel ten feet tall!” Bonaparte stood with a leg on each of his cousin’s shoulders and looked Pete directly in the face. Then he balled up his fist and socked him hard. 

Pete toppled over to the floor with one last groan, his visage a palette of black and blue.  “I hate happy endings.” The crowd erupted into applause.

Princess Minnie ran over and hugged Bonaparte tight, and he lifted her up off her feet and spun her, laughing. “Nous l'avons fait! We did it!”

Clarabelle and Bertrand reached out for each other’s hands and smiled at each other a little shyly.

Basil chuckled nervously under Daisy’s heavy gaze. But before he could say anything, Daisy flung her arms around his neck and kissed him, making him stumble back in surprise before ultimately returning the gesture.

Minnie’s eyes widened and she grinned. “Daisy…are you kissing a commoner?” Daisy looked up, casting Minnie a quick glance and blushing.

“Well, you know,” she said, looking back up into his eyes, “C’est la vie!”  And for once, Basil didn’t bristle at the French words at all; instead, he pulled her close and kissed her deeply again.

Minnie giggled. “C’est l’amore!” Bonaparte then dipped her in his arms and crashed his lips against hers, kissing her passionately. 

“Ehe…this is awkward,” Bertrand said clumsily. “I-“

Then Clarabelle grabbed his collar and cut him off with a kiss, too.

The audience cheered and clapped even louder. This was some opera!

“Take a bow, my Musketeers!” Minnie giggled, motioning to the standing ovation they were getting.

The boys exchanged nervous glances.

“But we’re not real musketeers!” Bonaparte reminded her.

Minnie giggled. “Would you like to be?”

---

“Please kneel!”

The Beagle Boys, freshly attired in new Musketeer uniforms, knelt down on one knee and removed their hats respectfully before Princess Minnie. The courtyard was filled with their fellow musketeers, lined up and at full attention.

Minnie brandished an ornamental sword and gently tapped all three on their shoulders. Daisy smiled proudly and Clarabelle wiped tears of joy from her eyes as they watched the ceremony.

“In gratitude for saving all of France, I hereby dub thee, Bonaparte, Basil, and Bertrand…all royal musketeers!”

The trio looked at one another, huge smiles filling their faces. They’d might as well try it…

“All for one!” shouted Bonaparte, raising his rapier into the air.

Basil and Bertrand clashed their swords with his. “And one for all!”

---

“Y’know, this really was all up to chance,” Bertrand said. The three were walking across the training grounds towards the palace, heads held high and swords at their side.

“What do you mean?” Bonaparte asked.

They halted in front of the laundry room. Three downtrodden looking janitors sat inside, scraping the muck off of shoes and scrubbing the tile.

Bertrand pointed.

“Yeah. Can you imagine if it had been those poor sods Pete had picked for the job?” Basil snickered softly. Bonaparte joined in with his laughter.

The three started off again, not wanting to be late for their first full day as musketeers.

FIN