"I look ridiculous." I look at myself in the mirror.
Porthos shouts from outside the door. "You'll look fine. You'll only have to wear them for training."
I swing the door open. He and Aramis hold back a laugh.
"This is funny to you?" I say trying to hold my pants from slipping down.
"Aramis's old training clothes are the only ones we could find that might fit you. Or atleast close to s
Fitting you." Porthos explains.
"If it makes you feel any better, when I was training, they didn't fit me well either. I was a thin little thing when I arrived." Aramis adds.
"The only thing that's changed is he got a bit taller" Porthos jokes.
I huff and look around for something. My eyes land on some loose rope. I tie it around my waist tightly and roll the top of the pants up. The roll the bottoms up a bit so they don't drag on the ground.
"Alright, I'm ready." I turn back to the pair.
"First thing up, we are going to start with some strength training." Aramis informs me. He and Porthos take me over to wear other Musketeers are exercising. They all stop to stare at me, as if I'm some exotic animal in a traveling circus.
"Were you told to take a break?" Porthos voice booms over everyone, the men go straight back to exercising but still glancing in my direction whispering. Palace halls or not, no man or woman could resist gossip.
They started me on simple push ups and pull ups. Then again. And again. And again. And again.
My arms felt like they would detach from my body if I so much as lifted them again. But still Porthos puts my Sword in my hand.
"What this for?" I ask hims.
He turns me around to where Aramis stands in an empty patch of yard, a sword in his hand.
"I know your in pain, but your opponent will you that against you. You have to fight through the tiredness and pain."
I nod but as I step up to Aramis, and try to lift my sword, my arm falls back down. Weakly.
"Try again." Porthos instructs.
I do. But once again my arm falls.
Aramis steps up to me. He grabs my hand that holds the sword and lifts it so it faces him. He holds it there for a moment.
"Squeeze the handle as hard as you can."
I do as he says.
"Don't let that grip go." He moves his hand and steps back. My arm stays up this time.
"Now sheath it, and do that same thing again."
I put my sword back in its Scabbard, unsheath it, then squeeze the handle as hard as I can. It stays up for a second time. My once numbed hands regain some feeling.
Aramis and I circle eachother and begin to circle eachother, taking practice hits at eachother.
The next few hours are much of the same but gradually I become faster and the hits land heavier and more precise. The noon sun beats down on us, clouds following it but not doing much to settle the heat. The smell of rain is in the air.
We take a break to eat some lunch. As we eat, various other musketeers shoot questions out at me. Some sincere, others seemingly upset at my Presence. I try to keep my remarks Civil, but my temper slips out here and there. After we finish, Porthos and Aramis are summoned up to Treville office. I take a break in the shade. Closing my eyes.
"What's he doing here?" I hear one of the Musketeers asks.
"Filthy Red Guard." Another says.
I open my eyes. Letting my eye adjust to the light.
"Freddy, what are you doing here?"
He looks upset. Really upset.
"What are you doing here? You're not being serious are you?"
"You heard about the fight." I conclude.
He shakes his head "I've seen you do a lot of stupid stuff, Daria, but never something like this. Are you trying to embarrass me more?"
"When did this become about you?"
"What you do affects me. My fiancée is running around in men's clothes, trying to do a man's job. A Musketeer at that." He says disgusted.
"It's what I want."
"Frankly I don't care what you want. I forbid it."
"Oh you Forbid it?"
"Why do you always have to be difficult?"
"Why do you? You're not listening to me. I am gonna do this fight. Can't you have faith in me."
"I won't watch you get yourself killed."
"What if I win?"
"You don't actually believe you'll win do you."
"I do. But you clearly don't ."
"What are you gonna do, sleep your way up?"
He didn't say it quietly in the least. Everyone around us goes silent.
I'm arms were still very sore, but with my fist bunch up, they acted quick. I landed a hit square in his face. A small crack! noise echoing. A few whoops and cheers come from the crowd.
"I think you broke my nose! You bitch!" He whined. Hes backing away from me.
"Let me finish the job!" I go at him again but feel arms wrap around my waist. Holding me back. At some point Aramis and Porthos had come back. I struggled in Aramis's arms.
"We are done!" Frederick holds his bloodied nose.
I rip the chain off my neck and drow it at him as hard as I can muster.
"Couldn't have said it better myself!"
"Maybe you should go" Porthos warns Frederick.
He just grunts and walks out the yard. Blood gushing down his face. Athos rides in past him on horseback.
Aramis waits till Freddy is out of sight before letting me go. Athos dismounts his horse, making his way over to us. I'm seething still.
He seems to sense that so addresses Aramis.
"What happened?"
Aramis and Porthos shake their heads, having barely caught the whole event themselves.
I sigh and wipe the small splotch of blood off my hands.
"She hit that Red guard down a notch" a Musketeer interrupts. Athos stares him down and he shrinks back into the crowd.
"Daria?"
I shrug and go to pick up my sword.
"I gave him a goodbye present." Is all I say.
YOU ARE READING
The Female Musketeer
Historical FictionDaria La Vielle was just a farm girl. The Three musketeers Athos, Porthos and Aramis were just soldiers. But all four found they were more than just titles given to them. Love, Revenge and Swords make for a good time. but when it comes to being a wo...
