Here’s a thought, and it’s Athos very quietly but very deliberately picking a fight with two soldiers who mocked Porthos behind his back. He provokes them with small words and a calm expression, and Porthos will never know that their hurts are in recompense for the ones of his ones he didn’t hear.
Here’s another, Aramis’ glass being filled and a beautiful, witty young thing nudged his way, as he nurses yet another broken heart; though Athos will later deny he was anywhere near their corner of the inn.
Or, ok, d’Artagnan’s purse disappearing into the hands of a thin-faced pickpocket as he walks through an unfamiliar market, and somehow reappearing in Constance’s hands when he returns home hours later, angry at the theft. She’ll swear blind he left it with her, straight-faced and completely, silently, loyal.
He believes one life is all we have, life and love. Whoever takes life steals everything.
"In the five or six years in which he had lived on terms of the greatest intimacy with his friends Porthos and Aramis, they could call to mind numerous occasions on which they had seen him smile, but none on which they had heard him laugh." - The Three Musketeers
Athos + (almost) smiles - part 2 of 3