Oh if you’re in the mood to write, Porthos and Constance with musketeer!Constance?
I miss them so much 😭
god I miss them every day....
~~
It wasn’t the first time Constance had been told she didn’t belong somewhere.
She knew when she joined the garrison that not everyone would be as welcoming as the men she was used to. Treville was certainly willing to give her a shot on Athos’ word at least. Moreso than D'Artagnan, Aramis', or Porthos' word.
The jeers and taunts weren’t really anything new, just a new thing to ignore. She held her head as she turned them out; no matter that made the mockery worse.
It was the sound of leather hitting flesh though that made her turn. The man who had just been calling her something vulgar now on the ground behind her.
Constance raised an eyebrow and looked over to Porthos who stood there with teeth barred and gloved hand clenched.
“I could have handled it.” She told him, walking over the now out cold man to frown at Porthos.
Porthos was scowling. “Shouldn’t have to. Besides, I owed him for the things he said about me when I joined up.”
Constance paused her scolding. “I suppose he more than deserved it.” She took a step back, on to the man’s hand and even out as he was he groaned in sudden pain.
Porthos snickered, sharing a sly grin with Constance.
“Should probably go before he wakes up.” Porthos admitted, offering Constance his arm.
She reached over to loop her arm through his. “Come along Monsieur Du Vallon. You can inform me of others who have slighted you.”
Porthos was the one who raised an eyebrow this time. “Planning on fighting the whole lot of them?”
“If that’s what it takes.” Constance admitted readily.
Treville sighed the next day when they ended up in his office. Constance brushed her hand against Porthos’, her eyes bright and grin wide.
“You’re a bad influence.” Treville informed Porthos gravely and then squinted at Constance. “Or you are.”
“I prefer to think I’m standing up for my fellow Musketeer.” Constance said with a minute shrug.
She was here now; where she belonged and wasn't leaving. The presence at her side a warm welcome and the future stretched out between them.
Idk if you still do this pairing but I’ve been missing them so much...would you do Portance cooking together?
(lowkey I always miss Portance and love them)
send me a pairing + a word for a ficlet
The sunshone down on the market, a far cry from the other day where it had beenpouring rain on them and Constance looked up into the sky with a smile. TheseParisian days were the kind that she loved. Next to her Porthos was looking atbread, his eyes darting around as he looked for the best one out of the bunchand she waited patiently for him to pick one.
The rest ofthe garrison would only just be waking up and getting breakfast now beforetheir training began but she and Porthos had been up for half an hour trying tobeat the lines at the market. She’d insisted he didn’t have to come with herbut Porthos had just grinned and offered her his arm when she came down thestairs that morning and had ended that discussion.
Shewondered what they must appear like to the sellers at the market, surely theyhad noticed Constance and Porthos together nearly every morning purchasinggoods. Did they think they were couple buying the supplies together? Her cheeksflushed a little at the thought, it wasn’t that she would mind it to be true itwas that she had no idea how Porthos would feel about it. For a man who had noproblem speaking his mind he certainly became quiet when it came to talkingabout feelings.
He musthave noticed her thoughts had wandered because when she met his eyes he raisedan eyebrow at her, his lips quirking upwards in amusement.
“Have youdecided yet?” She asked, trying to shake off her lingering thoughts.
“Bout aminute ago.” Porthos said and there was a teasing note in his voice.
She huffedand walked towards a stall with onions, making a purchase there and declaringthem ready to return to the garrison. The bread was a bit of a treat, for once themaids wouldn’t have to make their own for the garrison meal that night,Constance had decided earlier to give them a bit of a break and if she washonest with herself she missed cooking at times.
To hersurprise instead of setting the basket of foods down at the table of thegallery and walking off Porthos stayed, standing beside it.
“Are yougoing to watch?” She asked, drawing an apron on.
Porthosshrugged, “No mission today. Thought I’d help out.”
She beamedat him, grateful for the help and pushed the rabbits someone had caught in theforest that morning towards him. “Then get to work.”
She wasn’tquite used to working alongside someone in the gallery. Jacques had certainlynever helped out and the maids gave her her space whenever she was cooking asif sensing she needed it. Porthos however was a welcoming hand, he hummed alittle as he worked, his voice loud enough to fill the gallery and she foundherself humming along with him though she wasn’t certain of the song.
He stoodnext to her, his arm brushing hers as they cut the vegetables for the middaymeal that day. When he launched into a story from their latest missionregarding Aramis’ attempt to flirt with a farmer’s wife she laughed loudly andfreely, wiping at the tears that gathered in her eyes from it with her apron.
“I supposeyou tried your hand at it too.” She nudged him lightly, smiling but resistingthe urge to squirm a little with jealousy at that.
“Wouldn’thave been fair,” Porthos winked at her, “I’ve got someone else in my heart.”
Constancewas so surprised by his answer the knife slipped in her grip, cutting into theedge of her palm and she hissed in pain, dropping the knife on to the counter.
Handscovered her own, guiding her towards the corner of the room where a bucket offresh rain water stood. Thankfully the cut wasn’t very deep but Constance keptquiet as Porthos cradled her hand and washed and wrapped it gently, hiscalloused fingers brushing over her palm and she sucked in a breath at thefeeling.
“Porthos...”She began softly, leaning in just a little. She saw him swallow hard andwatched with lidded eyes as he leaned in as well. His lips were chapped, likehis hands they showed his hours in the sun working. She raised her hand thatwasn’t held by his still and brushed over his cheek, her thumb running acrosshis scar.
When hepulled away to smile at her, a little insecure, she smiled back and leaned infor another kiss before pulling away.
“You bestnot have meant anyone else in there.” She tapped his chest where his heartresided and he threw his head back with a laugh.
“Never,” Heassured her afterwards and then nodded his head towards the food that still layon the table, ready to be cooked. “Shall we?”
Reluctantlyshe pulled her bandaged hand away and walked back towards the table but thistime when Porthos came to stand next to her he bent down to press a kiss at hercheek before he started working. She ducked her head, grinning to herself andwondered when she could surprise him with a kiss of her own between meal preparations.
Too often she woke up to the ruckus of the garrison, before training was even supposed to occur the boys were up and loud. Occasionally getting into fights too like that morning and Constance groaned when she heard the familiar sound of a body hitting the wooden beams that held the stairs up.
“It’s your turn.” She mumbled to Porthos, turning and taking some of the blankets with her.
She heard Porthos grunt in reply, barely awake himself, and stagger up. The bed felt cold without him already though and she sunk into the leftover warmth of it. Footsteps echoed and she shivered when wind from the door opening blew over her. The air was getting colder and she’d have to remember to bring out more blankets for that night.
The next crash she heard would have been Porthos throwing whoever was fighting apart, coupled with the amused chuckle as the boys scrambled up and muttered their apologies. That was all too soft too hear but she could see it in her mind, along with the way Porthos was already planning on showing them the proper way to brawl.
A garrison door creaked open again and there was some scuffling before a hand tugged at sheets and Porthos slipped back into bed next to her. His arm draped around her waist and he pulled her close to press a kiss to the back of her neck before he fell asleep once more.
Rather than following him right away Constance stayed awake, soaking in the quiet moments she and Porthos would have before the days events would drag them away from each other.
“It’s your turn tomorrow.” Porthos said, making her realize he wasn’t as asleep as she thought.
Constance sighed, “Fine.” She snuggled under the blankets a little more and rested her hand over Porthos’ and thought it was only fair after all. They were partners in everything and this was no different.
it's either hell or high water (let's get outta this place)
it’s late but for @thefemalemusketeer, a start of season two au. (also here on ao3)
~~
London wasn’t all that different from Paris, the streets were the same cobbled stone and the rich turned down their faces at the poor. Porthos watched it all from his corner, frowning at the nobles that walked by. Next to him Constance also looked dismayed by the marketplace, her lavender and red dress stood out amongst the blue fashion that was the interest of London currently, and she moved her hand jerkily as though to run her fingers through her curls and only then remembering she had it pinned up.
Neither of them belonged there, they were as far from their element as they could but there wasn’t much of a choice. The Queen had sent them to retrieve her diamonds and their intelligence gathering had brought them straight to London. It was Flea who had tracked down a woman named Sylvie who then used her experiences to find out that there was a dark haired woman seen fleeing the building that had housed Suzette, in possession of the Queen’s diamonds.
It hadn’t taken much for them to find out that woman was Milady de Winter and had struck a deal with the Cardinal once more upon her return to Paris. It had been harder for them to discover that the plan was for Milady to frame the Duke of Buckingham as the Queen’s lover to turn the King against her. Constance had skulked in certain areas of the palace to overhear whispers for days before she finally figured it out.
Which lead them to England, standing in a corner of the market and watching the bustle go by. Porthos squinted when the clouds shifted and the sun shone down on them, it was unbearably hot, that much it shared with Paris in the summertime. He felt unusually exposed, his pauldron which marked him as a Musketeer had to be left at the inn they were staying at so as not to draw attention. It hadn’t helped at all, people continued to stare at the odd coupling they made but they ignored it.
Constance shifted behind him and Porthos glanced back at her, asking silently what she was doing.
She grinned at him, “I may as well get some value from your height,” She teased, standing in his shadow to cool herself.
Porthos snorted in amusement, “Be better if this contact would arrive already.” He didn’t name her in fear that someone else might have overheard him. In fact he shouldn’t have spoken that but the heat was irritating him.
Constance hummed her agreement, the heat had clearly sapped most of her energy, he could see the beads of sweat that dripped down her neck. Porthos felt his impatience rising, sighing heavily and scrubbing at his face to try to reinvigorate himself.
He looked up in surprise when Constance snatched his bandana and watched her as she made her way to the fountain in the middle, dunking the piece of fabric in the water and walking back with it.
“To cool you off.” She explained, trying it back on to his head and though the water was warm he had to admit it still felt nice. Constance had to stand on her toes to reach, pressing close to him and he could almost feel her breathing in tandem with himself.
He cleared his throat to take a step back when she was finished, resolutely ignoring the confused look on her face and scanning the market one more. He nudged Constance lightly when he saw who he was looking for, like them Sylvie stood out with her dress a much darker blue than anyone else’s.
“How unexpected!” Constance called out when Sylvie was close enough, acting like it was a surprise. “I didn’t expect to see you in London.”
“I was visiting family, what brings you two here?” Sylvie ducked in closer, the paper in her hand slipping in to Constance’s when they embraced.
“We were just seeking a break and heard London was lovely this time of year.” Constance replied, looking back at Porthos and smiling widely. He returned it with an easy affection, their story was after all that with the death of Jacques Bonacieux, Constance had been seeking some peace and she and Porthos had started a romance that would only last as long as it took them to get the diamonds back.
“This fair city has its appeal.” Sylvie stated but she didn’t at all look like she meant it and Constance knew that given her choice she too would return to Paris. Her mouth turned down slightly when she said the word ‘fair’, like it hurt to say that and Paris was no better but at least it was home.
“Porthos and I were just about to get going, we can’t stay long. We were just…” She paused for the word and nearly made a face at it. “Admiring the markets.” Next to her Porthos snickered when he caught her hesitation and she almost elbowed him, shooting him a dark look instead that just made him guffaw louder. “Excuse him. I think the heat has gotten to him.” She said through clenched teeth.
Porthos coughed and nodded, “Heat, flies, it’s a damned shame there isn’t a fight to be had or it might feel like home.”
“Give it time.” Constance said, low enough for only Porthos to hear and couldn’t help but grin back when he did.
“You two best be on your way then.” Sylvie drew their attention again, “Get out of the heat while you can.” As she leaned in to hug Constance a goodbye she whispered in Constance’s, “Best of luck to you.”
“Safe travels.” Constance whispered back, letting go. They watched Sylvie step back in to the crowd and then off the street down an unused alleyway.
Without speaking they walked in tandem back to their inn but along the way Constance saw girls fluttering their eyes at Porthos. She felt a stab of jealousy that she tried to brush away, Porthos was after all only her false romance.
Constance glanced up, knowing what it was those girls saw when they looked at Porthos; it was easy to be lost in his eyes that promised an adventure. Coupled with how well he fit his uniform and his roguish smile… she sidled in a little closer, telling herself it was only right she’d be jealous of the attention he was given since she was supposed to be his lover.
Porthos turned to look at her, a question in his gaze but she ignored it, looking ahead instead. She still caught the slight hurt in his eyes that she had turned away from him and guilt bubbled up inside her. There wasn’t any time for this, she told herself, they had a job to do.
The inn was no cooler than the outside and their room offered little sanctuary to eavesdroppers but it was the best they had. She reached into sleeve where she had hidden the paper Syvlie had passed her to unfurl it so they could read it.
Porthos stood behind her, his bulk should have been uncomfortably warm but Constance found herself wanting to lean in. Instead she focused on looking at the information in her hands.
“She was in the palace.” Porthos said idly, frowning at the paper. “No doubt placing things where they don’t belong.”
“It is her specialty.” Constance remembered her kidnapping with a slight shudder.
Porthos’ hand came up to rest on her shoulder, he looked like he wanted to say something but apologies weren’t his strong suit.
“I’m fine.” She said softly, reaching up to touch his cheek in appreciation. “We should go.”
There was never any time to rest, to think about events in the past, and Constance almost preferred it that way. If she was in Paris she’d have to act like the grieving widow as expected of her position. People would be vicious to her when she came back, scolding her for not doing her duty to mourn and leaving for London instead with another man, but she’d deal with that when it came.
It wasn’t like there was much left to her name and the Queen at least had promised Constance would always have a position and home with her.
They reached the back of the Duke’s place by the time night fell and the air was cooler.
“Suppose we can’t just go barrelling in there.” Porthos sounded sad he couldn’t and Constance knew he’d rather the direct approach.
Aramis perhaps would have been better suited for this mission. Even d’Artagnan had proven himself to be sly when he’d tricked Milady. Porthos had been confused when she’d picked him to come along with her, despite that he had been the one Flea had given the message to.
“I need someone who won’t expect everything of me.” She had told him, thinking it harsh to say that of d’Artagnan but true nonetheless. “And who understands.” She hadn’t needed to say that he’d understand what it would be like not having the best reputation in the eyes of Paris.
“Well.” Constance said then, “Maybe we could.” When Porthos looked at her she grinned wolfishly, “Don’t ever speak of this to others.” She pulled him with her, throwing herself into the situation. When they were close enough to the guard Constance turned to kiss Porthos, trying not to think about how his hand settled on the small of her back. How he drew her in to the kiss like they were the only two people that mattered, giving it his full attention.
She pulled back only long enough to say “now” and Porthos’ swung, his fist connecting the guard who’d come to investigate them and taking him out for the night.
He had to smother his amused laughter that just seemed to come naturally, his other arm still wrapped around her so she tugged him closer to smother his laughter with another kiss and hide her own in it. She had done it without thought though, there was really no reason to since the guard was out and the rest patrolled the front of the house.
Porthos pulled away first, letting her go and holding up his hands to silently say that he understood it was the heat of the moment that drove her to it.
Constance bit her lip, ready to move on like she should have but then swore.
In the pale light from the house it was hard to make out Porthos’ face but she’d stared long and hard enough over the ride to London. Her thumb touched the very bottom of the scar, just below his eye, and her fingers spread out over his cheek as she stroked it in affection.
“Constance.” Porthos said, his already raspy voice lower and her shudder this time had nothing to do with fear.
“I know.” She had to pull away but didn’t. Constance swallowed hard and between one breath and the next Porthos swept her in to another kiss. She had expected ferocity but it was gentle yet passionate all the same. She left her breath be stolen, leaning in to the kiss and standing on her toes for a better angle.
This was what those girls in the market were missing and what Constance wanted for herself.
When he pulled back he twisted to catch her wrist and kiss her palm before letting her hand go. Porthos licked his lips and averted his gaze back to the house, “Should do what we came to.” He said regretfully and Constance took one faltering breath before she nodded.
Porthos made quick work of the lock at the back door, letting them in. Every step they made felt too loud in Constance’s ears but Porthos looked confident as they trailed down the hall and up the stairs to the main bedroom.
The Duke wasn’t there, Constance was betting he was still taking dinner somewhere in the bottom level of the house and prayed he wouldn’t decide to come upstairs. If he did they could explain it to them, she held a letter that had been sealed from Anne but that would take time that they didn’t truly have.
They needed to get the diamonds back to the Queen before Milady reached Paris once more and informed the Cardinal she had succeeded.
Porthos growled lowly as he rifled through the Duke’s closet, Constance glanced his way in warning as she went through his drawers.
“Constance.” Porthos whispered after a few minutes, she turned to see he was holding the jewellery box with the diamonds in it and grinning victoriously. They opened it to take a quick peek inside to make sure and breathed a sigh of relief.
She slipped the letter onto the Duke’s bed, issuing him a warning that Milady had attempted this and was shocked when they made it back outside without complications.
As soon as they were a great enough distance away Porthos’ arm slipped around her waist, hoisting her in the air as he chuckled. With his other arm he still held the box at his side, an unintentional show of strength that he could lift her like that.
“Porthos.” Constance tried to complain but laughed. “I can’t believe we got away with it.”
“Not bad.” Porthos agreed as he set her down.
“Do you always do that when you succeed?” She smoothed her skirts down, “I’ve certainly never seen you throw Aramis about.”
Porthos scratched at his cheek and looked like he was about to apologize so Constance cut him off, pulling his hand down to push herself up and kiss him on the cheek.
There were more things they needed to discuss but it would all have to come later as they rushed back to the inn to gather their things and make the long ride back to Paris.
“You ready?” Porthos asked as she mounted, the diamonds safely stored in a saddlebag.
“Yes.” She looked over at him and smiled softly, “I think I am.”
