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Constance sighed, knowing that today would consist of her dragging Athos out of whatever dump of a tavern he'd found to drown his sorrows in this time. They'd met because he had saved her and her husband from being robbed just a few weeks ago, and had asked for nothing in return but to be allowed to escort them home safely. Ever since then, she'd noticed him, passed him in the street a few times. And then she got curious. So whenever her husband was away on business, she would follow him.
That sounded rather strange when she actually said it out loud, but she was motivated by genuine concern. She never saw him with anyone, when he was patrolling the city for evil, or whatever it was that Musketeers did on the streets of Paris.
She found him going into a tavern, and didn't see him leave after midnight, so she walked in, only to find him collapsed over the table farthest away, tucked into a corner, wine bottles surrounding him. Well, that just wouldn't do. Whoever this man was, he certainly shouldn't be alone and drunk like this - it was irresponsible. And that wasn't the impression of him she had when he had rescued her and her husband, no. He had seemed the very epitome of efficiency and grace.
"Oi, you here for this one, love?" the barmaid asked as she was washing the counter. Without really thinking it through, Constance nodded.
"He... he's a friend." She felt the need to clarify.
"Wasn't suggestin' otherwise, Madame Bonacieux. We all know you's a respectable sort. Besides, I've tried three times to convince him to come to my bed, but apparently the only woman he'd ever love is dead." Constance gasped.
"But that's horrible!" She exclaimed, and felt suddenly very protective of this Musketeer. Nodding to herself, she went up to where Athos was sprawled over the table and tried to shake him awake, but to no avail. That was that, then. She was going to have to carry him.
And she did. She dragged him through the streets and back to her house, and put him up in their guest room. Thoughtfully, she left a bucket at the side of the bed, just in case, and then she made her way to her own room. She was glad that her husband was away so often, because it gave her peace. Not that they ever talked much, but she always felt freer when he was away. He never would approve of a strange man staying in the house - not without paying rent, anyway - but here she was.
She loved to do things her husband wouldn't approve of. It was her secret little game with herself. She had to keep herself amused somehow, didn't she? For all that she respected her husband, he was just so boring.
And yes, that did extend to the bedroom, thank you very much.
She woke early, which was just as well, because she could hear Athos swearing as he woke up in an unfamiliar room.
"You'll have to excuse me, Monsieur, but I could hardly leave you where I found you. I thought you might appreciate a warm bed for the night." He blinked up at her from where he sat, still obviously disorientated, but he concentrated on her face and frowned.
"Madame Bonacieux? What on earth?"
"It has come to my attention that you sit and wallow in drunkenness when left to your own devices. And as you have no one, it seems, to drag you home, I took it upon myself to bring you here."
"You carried me." His voice was flat and he definitely sounded dubious.
"Do you see anyone else here? Go and wash, tidy yourself up. You're hardly fit for duty like that, you ruffian." He blinked, surprised, and quickly blushed, bowing his head.
"Forgive me, Madame, I am not at my best this morning."
"I'll let it slide just this once. Now, go and get cleaned up and for god's sake make some friends. If I have to carry you home every night I'll get muscles, and goodness knows that wouldn't please my husband." Athos splashed water on his face from a washbasin that she handed him.
"You sound rather happy about that."
"Oh, don't mind that. I like my little rebellions is all." Athos raised an eyebrow, and she felt uncomfortable with how long he stared into her eyes.
"Is your husband cruel to you, then?"
"What? No, no. He's just... boring. I get my excitement where I can, rescuing drunk Musketeers from drowning in copious amounts of wine." He smiled, and Constance felt that it was a great achievement for her to have coaxed that out of him.
"Well, this drunken Musketeer sincerely hopes that should ever the occasion arise, you shall come and rescue him from the sea born of fermented grapes." He bowed, and Constance couldn't help the snort of laughter - not very ladylike, but she was hardly a lady, now, was she?
"You should be so lucky. Now go, get your uniform and keep the city safe from the mysterious dark forces that lurk in the shadows. Off with you!" She shooed him out of the door, and felt that this was the beginning of a very odd friendship - but one that she would treasure.
She ended up dragging him out of taverns a few times after that, but it seemed that he took her advice, and made some friends. She didn't see him so often then, unless the other two were on missions. But Athos still tried to make time to see her, and regale her with stories of their adventures whenever her husband was gone.
When d'Artagnan came along, she lost count of the times she had to drag all four of them out of some place or another at one point. And though she despaired of them all, she wouldn't have it any other way.