Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing of the Musketeers universe. If I did, I'd be rich!

A/N: Hi all! I'm sorry, lost my muse for a while with all the craziness. This chapter has been a work in progress but I'll hopefully be able to do updates sooner now.

While Aramis was being taken to task by his fellow Musketeers, D'Artagnan sat on the bench and soaked up the sun. His head was tilted back, eyes closed; he looked perfectly content and relaxed. The other Musketeers in the yard were focused on sparring or target practice but the noise did not seem to bother the recovering young man in the slightest. The sight was soothing to the men who took it as a sign that their youngest member was on the mend, at least physically. The cadets were also watching, reassured by the content look on D'Artagnan's face; Brujon could not stop grinning.

After about an hour, Serge came out of the kitchen with a plate of food and gently ushered D'Artagnan into the shaded area. The old cook was fussing like a mother hen and D'Artagnan was slightly embarrassed, but he did not protest. He realized that he had scared everyone and admitted to himself that he had pushed his body's limits too far. But in his mind, he admitted to himself that it was more along the lines of pushing himself until it seemed that he could not take care of himself or knew his own limits. Yet another instance where 'head over heart' would have been best applied, as Athos would have put it. However, even though D'Artagnan was not ready to admit it, the young man had been running himself ragged so that he could not only prove himself but to win the barest crumbs of praise from the Inseparables.

The change had been subtle, so subtle that D'Artagnan's mind had accepted it as normal since he knew the personalities of the three. Praise was always rare but D'Artagnan had also become touch-starved without realizing it, especially once Constance had ended their relationship after her husband's suicide attempt. He craved acknowledgment including touch but did not voice it because he did not realize it himself, it was just there, gnawing at his heart and at the back of his mind. It pushed him to work harder, faster, no rest, there are things to be done!

Yet nothing seemed to work to fill the ever-growing void in his soul and eagerness had turned to resignation. Positive reinforcement turned negative as the Inseparables unconsciously began to expect more and more from their youngest; expect the best constantly even when they instinctively knew that he was not at his best or happy. D'Artagnan had been there constantly, doing whatever they asked for so long that they'd taken him for granted and unknowingly abused the privilege of his presence. But it had been so subtle that D'Artagnan had not noticed until it was almost too late and neither had anyone else around him.

As these dark thoughts started to go around in his head, D'Artagnan was startled to hear his name called. A messenger that was often sent from the palace was approaching him. "Jacques! It has been a while! More messages for the Captain?" D'Artagnan tried to smile and sat up straight.

"No, Monsieur D'Artagnan!" The young man said as he came to a stop beside him, looking concerned. "I have come with a message specifically for you from their Majesties. Also…" He gestured behind him. Another messenger was approaching with a basket and a package. "Their Majesties sent a care package for you." The Musketeer blushed and it deepened when he noticed the smiles on the faces of his comrades. Both gifts were placed on the table before Jacques and his friend turned to D'Artagnan. "You do look pale, my friend. Were you wounded recently?"

D'Artagnan shook his head. "Illness, my friend but I am recovering swiftly. Please send my apologies to their Majesties for the inconvenience and assure them that I will attend them as soon as the doctor allows."

"Which will not be for some time or have you forgotten our discussion already, D'Artagnan?" The younger man jolted and looked guiltily over his shoulder at Treville, who was standing by the stairs. "Aye, Captain." He mumbled with a nod as the older man walked over to ruffle D'Artagnan's hair slightly before putting a hand on his shoulder. "And you are healing but slowly, my boy, do not sugarcoat what the doctor said. There is no need to save face."

Jacques was growing more concerned by the minute. For Treville to exhibit public displays of affection, even within the garrison, was rare. Everyone who interacted with the Musketeers knew that D'Artagnan was considered the king's favorite, aside from the Inseparables. The king had changed since the young man had become a Musketeer, respecting D'Artagnan for his heart and loyalty. All these things, plus how pale D'Artagnan was looking, told Jacques that something other than a mere illness had happened. But for all his concern, it was not his place to pry. Unlike other servants, Jacques felt no need to gossip or cause trouble in order to get ahead in life. "Well, I hope that you continue to improve, D'Artagnan and will leave you to the Captain's capable hands."

"Our thanks, Jacques. Good day." Treville said with a small smile. As Jacques walked back to his horse at the arch, D'Artagnan looked up at his Captain. "People will keep noticing, Captain. As the King's named champion, I am the public face of the garrison. How will we deal with this? Much as I hate it, you are right. I can't rush my recovery."

"Then it is good that Lemay and the King have discussed this already. As I told you, you will be moving into Lemay's quarters to learn healing from him for the next few months while you recover. Word will be spread discreetly that you are expanding your skills to better serve the regiment and King. It is an open secret that the garrison is hard-pressed for Musketeers with medical skills and this can only make us look better with the people who may request assistance, be they commoner or of the court. And it will help your own reputation since the people already love you."

Then Treville smirked. "Once Lemay feels you are sufficiently recovered, you are to live in the palace under the guise of teaching the King swordsmanship, at his own command. This will be put down to one of his whims and so the Cardinal will not be able to protest since you are indeed Louis' champion, as you said. Besides, Louis still remembers how one of the Red Guard did not follow his rules during that tournament, so he wouldn't trust them with that kind of whim." D'Artagnan nearly smiled at the thought of embarrassing the cardinal privately. "For how long, Captain?"

Treville's face became stern again. "Until Lemay and the King agree that you are to return to the palace. Besides, you may be able to rein in His Majesty's other whims if you are nearby. He does respect you and you are of close age. With the Cardinal and I, it is like a father scolding a child and we must work at getting Louis to come around even with the Queen's presence at times. With you around, Louis may be more willing to listen." D'Artagnan blushed at the thought of him 'reining in' Louis when he had one of his moments of fancy. He was not sure how well that would work but for Treville, he was willing to try.

"When do I leave?" Treville smiled now. "Lemay will be coming here next week, and you will accompany him back. From there, I have no say." D'Artagnan liked having a plan but he could not stop feeling anxious with the new turn coming in his life. He had never been away from the garrison aside from missions and then he was going to live in the palace! Saints bless him, this was going to test his nerves like nothing else! But there was no way to get out of this, so the young man sighed heavily and turned his attention to the items that the royal couple had sent. Hopefully he wouldn't get teased over the special treatment!