ext_5958 (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
sodzilla.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
31_days2006-04-10 11:57 pm
sodzilla.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2006-04-10 11:57 pm
[April 10th] [The Three Musketeers] Nature of Trust
Title: Nature of Trust
Day/Theme: we were friends once, a long time ago
Series: The Three Musketeers
Characters/Pairing: Porthos
Rating: G
Even for a man gifted at garnishing the truth, and not burdened by any great qualms about doing so, there are some facts that cannot be whitewashed - though Porthos does his very best. Indeed, if the circumstances were only a little different, he would not even have to try; striding out into the dusk with a hand on his sword and d’Artagnan by his side would seem a splendid thing, quite like their old adventures. What awaits them at the Place Royale, however, is not a duel – or at any rate, Porthos prays not. Bad enough that he might have killed one of his oldest friends by accident, last night on the Vincennes road. Doing so by design, angry as he is, would be killing himself as well.
For him, it is not so much a matter of being thwarted in their aims, or losing a fight. In fact, if Porthos were asked to name two people in the entire world whom he could lose to with no sense of resentment, it would be Athos and Aramis. Even d’Artagnan would be harder; seasoned soldier and lieutenant of the Musketeers as he now is, d’Artagnan is still the little brother of their fraternity, and Porthos likes to maintain at least the illusion of superiority.
It is not even the fact that Athos and Aramis have been keeping secrets, because when it comes down to it, they all do that. Even him – though most often the “secret” was something in the nature of upgrading, say, a lawyer’s wife to a duchess. Strictly for the purpose of remaining discreet, of course.
No. If Porthos had to put a name to what stings him about the entire affair, he would have to say that the secrets between them have changed, somehow. Back when, there was a kind of honesty about it; he always knew that if he asked Athos about his past, or Aramis about his women, he would run headfirst into a brick wall. Literally, once, shortly after he first met Athos… But now, at least to hear d’Artagnan tell it, the two of them lie through their smiles and speak of friendship even while they betray it. Porthos has to believe d’Artagnan, because if he allowed himself to think that the Gascon might also be tricking him, he might just as well go back to Pierrefonds and rot.
He only wishes that, since the friendship of twenty-five years might die in the next twenty-five minutes, he could take any kind of comfort from the thought that it was not he who stabbed it in the back.
Day/Theme: we were friends once, a long time ago
Series: The Three Musketeers
Characters/Pairing: Porthos
Rating: G
Even for a man gifted at garnishing the truth, and not burdened by any great qualms about doing so, there are some facts that cannot be whitewashed - though Porthos does his very best. Indeed, if the circumstances were only a little different, he would not even have to try; striding out into the dusk with a hand on his sword and d’Artagnan by his side would seem a splendid thing, quite like their old adventures. What awaits them at the Place Royale, however, is not a duel – or at any rate, Porthos prays not. Bad enough that he might have killed one of his oldest friends by accident, last night on the Vincennes road. Doing so by design, angry as he is, would be killing himself as well.
For him, it is not so much a matter of being thwarted in their aims, or losing a fight. In fact, if Porthos were asked to name two people in the entire world whom he could lose to with no sense of resentment, it would be Athos and Aramis. Even d’Artagnan would be harder; seasoned soldier and lieutenant of the Musketeers as he now is, d’Artagnan is still the little brother of their fraternity, and Porthos likes to maintain at least the illusion of superiority.
It is not even the fact that Athos and Aramis have been keeping secrets, because when it comes down to it, they all do that. Even him – though most often the “secret” was something in the nature of upgrading, say, a lawyer’s wife to a duchess. Strictly for the purpose of remaining discreet, of course.
No. If Porthos had to put a name to what stings him about the entire affair, he would have to say that the secrets between them have changed, somehow. Back when, there was a kind of honesty about it; he always knew that if he asked Athos about his past, or Aramis about his women, he would run headfirst into a brick wall. Literally, once, shortly after he first met Athos… But now, at least to hear d’Artagnan tell it, the two of them lie through their smiles and speak of friendship even while they betray it. Porthos has to believe d’Artagnan, because if he allowed himself to think that the Gascon might also be tricking him, he might just as well go back to Pierrefonds and rot.
He only wishes that, since the friendship of twenty-five years might die in the next twenty-five minutes, he could take any kind of comfort from the thought that it was not he who stabbed it in the back.