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Athos & Maddie [The Musketeers] |
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Night had fallen by the time Maddie made it back to her cottage from town. She dropped her cloak over a kitchen chair and put the basket she had been carrying on the table. The contents chattered softly in spite of the fabric padding, but she didn't seem to notice; her attention was directed at the ceiling. After a moment, she sighed. Of course. It shouldn't surprise her.
Maddie grabbed a pile of bandages and the clinking basket and made her way up the stairs to a room lined with narrow beds. "If you don't stay off that ankle, you'll limp for the rest of your life. I told your friends I would tie you to the bed if it would keep you there, so don't make me do just that." She set down the bandages on the side table and began to unpack the jars from the basket.
"And surely using the leg is better than allowing myself to wallow in my own misery," Athos shrugged, wheezing as he perched himself on the edge of the bed, one arm wrapping itself around his own waist. Damn, these ribs were taking their sweet time healing…
"That will only make it worse, and you aren't helping your ribs heal either." Setting the last jar down, Maddie carefully took his left hand to examine his wrist. The wounds from his shackles were healing nicely, and the swelling in the left had gone down considerably. "For mercy's sake, you're the only patient I've had to fall down stairs and come off this badly." She gently unwound his right arm from his waist to examine it.
"I didn't fall!" he reminded her tersely, for what felt like the millionth time. "I was thrown. They were pretty determined to mess me up." The Musketeer found himself smiling, almost proudly. "They must have known they had no chance otherwise."
Grudgingly, he allowed Maddie to examine him, trying to remain passive, as if every jolt wasn't causing him immense pain.
"You shouldn't worry so much. I'm fine."
"Throwing. Falling. It has the same effect. You lost to the stairs." She glanced up at him under her red hair and flashed a small smile. "I'm a healer and an apothecary. It's my job to worry about patients."
"Your wrists are healing nicely, but I hope you aren't left handed. That one will need to be bound for a few weeks while that sprain and your broken finger heal. Are you still having trouble breathing?"
"Ambidextrous..." Athos murmured, looking down at his wrists as he slowly moved them in circles, trying to work the stiffness out of them. "It's rather unfortunate that my left arm will be out of commission though. I find it to be a valuable trick during a fight. Not many men know how to approach a left-handed opponent."
He slowly lay himself down on the bed, hissing in another sharp intake of breath. "It is not so much trouble as it is excruciating. It is as if my chest is on fire."
Quickly dismissing the comment, he turned his attention to the main concern that had been preying on his mind. "How are my friends? The boy, is he well?"
Maddie stretched forward to help ease Athos down. "Ribs are always the worst for active men," she said sympathetically. Once he was settled, she reached for one of the jars at her feet. "They're all fine. They weren't as debilitated as you were. D'Artagnan's chest required a few stitches to close but he's healing well and I can remove the stitches tomorrow. Unlike you, your friends seem to know when to listen to orders. They've been asking after you whenever I run into them.
The paste she began to apply to the more superficial injuries on his arms looked like bloody clay and smelled like cloves. "Your shoulder will be sore for a while but that's really the least of your concerns. I've been trying to work out the best way to help the ribs heal without making you stay in bed the entire time."
"I have my work to get back to..." Athos protested, waving away the concerns. "I can't be incapacitated for too long. But... Miss Madeline...?"
He paused for a moment and took a deep breath, nose wrinkling as it filled with the scent of cloves. "Thank you, for everything you've done for them. And for me... Porthos is insistent that I would not be alive if it weren't for your intervention..."
Maddie glanced up and smiled. "You have a beastly time accepting aid, don't you? Healing is my profession and calling, and in spite of your complaints, I could no more turn away from treating you than you could from helping your friends. They are fine, Monsieur Athos. They can manage whatever comes their way, and I've orders not to let you overwork yourself. And I'm more intimidated by Porthos than by you at the moment."
A giggle bubbled out of her. "I must say, it may be a first to have a Musketeer bested by stairs."
"I have learned not to be so trusting of people, unfortunately," Athos murmured, raising an eyebrow at her. "Outside of my three dear friends, no, you are right, I do not like to accept aid. Even *from* my friends, I prefer not to do so..." He trailed off, pensive. "What devilish concoction have you given me that has loosened my lips so? I find you easy to talk to, Miss Madeleine. And, be it your vocation or not, I am still immeasurably grateful. These are not just my men; they are my brothers. D'Artagnan is as my own son. You understand, they are everything to me, and I would give my very life to protect them..."
However, his face then twisted into something of a snarl, another blow taken to his already wounded pride. "I truly hope that loses its humour very soon, for one day I might not take so pleasurably to such an insult to my honour!"
"It is rather funny," she giggled, "but I will stop. It has done its job." She looked pointedly at his left arm, now treated with the analgesic balm, which she had been touching and manipulating to treat. She shifted from her knees on the floor to the edge of the bed. "How is your ankle? Still swollen?"
"You would be more qualified to tell me that, would you not?" Athos grumbled. "God, I am so bored cooped up in here! My hand itches for a sword, my legs for a horse and saddle. Before the week is out, I shall return to my duties, I swear it upon my honour!"
"If you'd rather I strip you by force to treat your wounds, by all means, tell me so," Maddie replied flatly. "It might hurt and would cost us both far more energy than required, but you are by far not the most combative patient I've had. Well," she amended, "perhaps verbally. Just know that if you return to your usual amount of activity before you're healed, your friends may well force you into convalescence again."
She turned her back to him and bent to look more closely at his ankle. "This sprain is worse than your wrist, and I'd recommend staying off it as much as possible. But we both know what you think of my recommendations." Maddie brushed loose hair behind one ear and set about the task of unwrapping the ankle to test its progress.
Athos grumbled softly and began to slowly and carefully shrug off his shirt. "It is not for my friends to decide when I may return to active duty. I cannot lay around here for much longer."
His expression did, however, soften a little as he watched her tuck her hair away. "It is not that I don't appreciate your advice, Miss Madeleine. I respect it, even. But it is not in my nature to take things lying down. My country needs me, and I need to be with my brothers."
Maddie looked over her shoulder at him and seemed surprised he had actually removed his shirt. She turned back just a little too slowly to hide the faint blush that was crawling up her neck. "Call me Maddie," she told him. "The only time I'm ever called Madeleine is when I'm in trouble." When she had rebound his ankle securely, she turned back around again. There was no blush in sight.
"I understand it's difficult to remain idle." Maddie bent forward to begin removing the bandages that wrapped Athos' ribs. "Especially when it's those you care for taking over the responsibilities you aren't able to. But they would be just as unhappy with you if you didn't heal properly because you were being an idiot." Her voice betrayed a slight smile. "Although I gather they're used to you acting this way." Her fingers probed very gently at his ribs.
Athos hissed in a sharp breath as Maddie began to prod at his ribs, the whole area still sensitive at the slightest provocation. "I-I fear they probably are..." he breathed, a barest him of a chuckle in his voice. "Comes with the job description."
"I'm so sorry," she said automatically, not liking that she had to cause him pain but needing to determine how the bones were healing. She'd need to apply some comfrey to the bandages along with the mixture she had been using for pain (not that it seemed to be doing him much good). "I'm trying to be gentle."
The bruising made her wince just looking at it, but she was pleased to see a lot of them were beginning to fade. "When you can breathe properly, I'll be glad to let you go, but the broken ribs are going to take a while to heal, and I'd hate to see one break again." There was a worried look on her face. "And that would probably make the other three come after me." Her hand seemed to go automatically to her throat.
Athos chuckled; he couldn't help it. "The others are grateful for all the help you've given me. It has been a lot of time and effort on your part. Please, do not worry. If anything goes wrong, all of the blame will be put on me."
He reached for her hand, an automatic, comforting gesture that he sometimes afforded to ladies. "They are grateful to you, and I indebted."
Maddie's fingertips were massaging along the side of her neck where a faint silvery mark traced its way under her ear, and with visible effort, she lowered it again. "I'm glad I was able to help you," she said. "My concern now is not undoing any of that work." She looked down to where his hand rested over hers, vaguely glad it wasn't his left, and then turned her attention to his face. "It wouldn't do any of us any good. You, me, your brothers, France. We'd all be the poorer for it."
"Then I shall do my best not to upset any of the wounds that you have so painstakingly treated," Athos smiled. "And once I am well, what are your plans?"
"After you've mended, I'll return you to the other three and return to my shop. I've been the apothecary in the area since my father died, and there are a number of people who would rather not see the doctor." She shrugged one shoulder as if apologizing for the uninspired plan. "And then I'll probably become the resident spinster regarded as a witch. Not much of a stretch really. I suppose I can brag that my services healed a Musketeer who was *thrown* down stairs now," she added in a clearly teasing tone.
Athos shook his head, unable to keep the slight hint of a smile from tugging at his lips. "It is a shame, for you would truly be an asset to our garrison..."
With her free hand, Maddie gestured around them at the room and the empty beds that - like the one he occupied - had been prepared for medical needs. "I do have the space for all of you, and I'm not hard to find should you need me."
"I suppose that is true..." Athos mused. "Perhaps it is just the amount if time that I have been cooped up here, Miss Maddie, but I have grown rather accustomed to your company... It shall be strange not to have you around..."
"You'll not miss it in the least," she said airily. "No one will bother you about those dratted stairs or point out your lack-of-self-preservation instincts when your friends' lives are in peril. Sounds like nothing but good to me." She reaches forward to gently feel around the spot when his head had been injured and found the swelling much lower. "Or to tell you that you have an abnormally hard head."
Athos flinched a little as her fingers brushed against his head wound, but another breathy chuckle still escaped him. "A hard head you say? What has brought you to that conclusion?"
He raised an eyebrow at her. "As I am sure you shall not miss having me as a particularly difficult and grumpy patient. In fact, I daresay you will be glad to be rid of me, excited to never see my face again." His voice was teasing - mostly.
"You're the only person I've ever treated to actively argue with me *while* I set a broken finger and replaced your shoulder. I call that truly hard-headed." She ruffled his hair just a little and sat back a little. "Oh, I don't know. I've grown rather used to telling you to get off that ankle or rest your ribs. Don't know what I'll do when I can't do that anymore. You keep me on my toes, Monsieur Athos."
"As you keep me on mine," he murmured, looking down to where his hand still rested upon hers. "I suppose meeting each other again would mean that we have fallen upon similar circumstances, which is not something that I would wish... And yet... It would be nice to see you..."
"You don't have to be badly injured to see me, you know," she pointed out. "You may find this difficult to believe, but I don't get many gentlemen callers. Or any callers actually. I'd welcome seeing you again. And not in excruciating pain."
"Some men don't understand the beauty and charm of a strong-willed woman..." Athos whispered, keeping his eyes focused downwards, on their hands. "You have the heart of one of the garrison."
Maddie shook her head, more to clear the hair off her face than in a negative. Her hand turned slowly under his until it clasped it with a gentleness that wouldn't have bent a butterfly's wing. "I have his attention," she corrected. "Time will tell if I can hold his heart." She leaned forward to rest her forehead on his for a brief moment. "I'd like you to come back."
Athos returned the grip to his hand, only slightly more pressure than Maddie had originally given; still barely there, easy to pull away from if Maddie chose to.
"I do not take to women easily," he admitted softly, reaching his left hand to gently brush away a stray hair from her eyes. "You are the first I have allowed so close to me in... a long while..."
"I suppose now I can understand your hesitancy to allow anyone near you. A musketeer's life isn't one that lends to trust." She bit her lower lip as she realized that was probably an understatement. "I understand what that must mean. And I hope you know, I've no wish to harm you in any way."
 Scorpio Devon Koenig · Fri Sep 28, 2018 @ 04:23am · 0 Comments |
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