D'Artagnan tucked himself into his bed early after returning from the King's ball.
There was only so much he could stomach watching the king dance and laugh lovingly with his wife and soul mate Queen Anne when his own (He found him!
) was in England and was probably cursing his very existence.
God, it was hard to even think about! His mate was the Duke of Buckingham, the second most powerful in England and personal enemy to his friends.
D'Artagnan could not name one thing he could have done to deserve such a pairing that would make his dreams of being a musketeer impossible to achieve.
If he chose to go and live in England than he would be leaving everything behind to join his mate in a country that bore no love for his.
He could be forever banished from France and Athos, Porthos, and Aramis might consider him a enemy even worst than Milady when it comes to light.
And he knew it would because this was far to big to keep hidden forever.
He did not know why destiny would bind a poor and common French boy with one of the greatest English man on Earth when there was no way that they could have a happy ending.
D'Artagnan heart grew to feel heavier in his chest with each second as horrible possibilities flashed through his eyes and his eyes grew wet with tears that ran down his face to soak
the pillow below.
He took all the childhood dreams he had of starting a new life in Paris with his mate,
adopting children and raising them with his mate and becoming the greatest Musketeer the world has seen with his mate by his side and threw it out the window into the gutter below.
He wished he was a small child back at Gascony sitting on his father's knee in their humble home hearing some of his wise advice that never did him wrong.
The words on his arm tingled and D'Artagnan closed his eyes now knowing who was causing it and hurting all the more for it.
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