CHAPTER SUMMARY: Porthos complains that Aramis is granted all those wishes he shouldn't have asked for. Athos and d'Artagnan tend to agree.
A/N: So this 900+ word dialogue-only fic is basically a product of my boredom. The words for my other story won't come and the blank page of my notebook was mocking me. This is the first in my collection of one-shots and there's definitely going to be more. You are welcome to leave me any prompts. No guarantees but I will try my best to make a story out of them.
WARNINGS: Some curse words here and there.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own 'The Musketeers' or any of its characters.
English is not my first language and this work has not been beta read. So proceed at your own risk.
1. Granted Wishes.
"I'm bored. This journey is turning out to be s-"
"Aramis, watch out!"
"Wha-? Haha, you missed, Athos! Thanks, d'Artagnan."
"What the bloody 'ell was that for?"
"Yes, Porthos, a pact. Aramis here agreed with me if he ever happens to express his displeasure regarding the monotony of a mission, I shall be rightfully obliged to punch him so hard, he begs to be kicked."
"Well, I merely requested you to remind me of that moment. You decided to add your own improvised conditions."
"To which you never raised any objection. In fact, you conceded that my method works too."
"Wait a minute, when did the two of you negotiate such a 'pact'?"
"In the tunnels under the convent, moments before Treville, Porthos and you made your grand entrance along with the Garrison's non-soldiering staff."
"Hey, don't blame me, Aramis. It was the Captain's idea."
"Which worked pretty well. So be grateful it saved yer bloody arses instead of ribbing the poor whelp."
"I am a fully commissioned Musketeer now, so for Christ's sake, stop calling me that."
"Na, ya'll always be our baby brother with those big puppy eyes, won't he 'Mis?"
"Not you too, Athos!"
"Death to the King and his minions!"
"D'Artagnan, get down and check on him. Porthos and I will deal with the others."
"Bloody 'ell! Why does his God grant him all those wishes that He shouldn't?."
"Maybe, next time we should just gag him when we are out on missions?"
"Gentlemen, as much as I acknowledge the necessity of having this debate, perhaps we could postpone it till those four men charging towards us are dealt with?"
"I tol' you, 'm fi'e. Rea'y, da ball jus' graze' m' leg."
"You forgot to mention the hit to your head that you received when you fell from your horse."
"Oh thaaaaat? I'd almos' for'otte' abou' it u'til you me'tion', 'Thos."
"Your slurred words and d'Artagnan's now unsightly boots are telling an entirely different tale, my friend."
"No one's shouting, 'Mis. It's yer head."
"Whar o' m' 'ead? It's in its place, isn' it?"
"Aramis, stop squirming and let me see that wound, or I will have to order Porthos to knock you out."
"Uh...he just took a blow to his head, will it be wise- oww! What the hell, Porthos?!"
"Shut up and let Athos do the talking, whelp!"
"Stop. Moving. Is that so hard to understand?"
"Back in Gascony, my father once told me that doctors are the worst patients. Now I am adding medics to that list."
"The wound has definitely left a concussion but thankfully, it has stopped bleeding, so it shouldn't require any stitches for now. Pass me the water, Porthos."
" 'm not thi'sty."
"You're not drinking it. I am going to use it to clean your wound."
"Si'ce when're you da medic, 'Thos?"
"Since you decided to execute a breathtaking dive from your horse and began to talk like a drunk man after that."
"Drun'. Tha's right. You're da Drun'. I'm de Medic."
"Alright Aramis, now stay still. That is an order."
"Hate or- ouch! Tha' stung!"
"Porthos, hold him still. I can't clean the cut while he is wriggling so much."
"Is he always like this when he's hurt?"
"Nah, he ain't always so docile."
"This is docile?"
"Oh, ya have no idea, pup. I remember that one time when his head was bashed a bit hard. He woke up shouting and thinking us the enemy. Started shooting at us."
"Yeah, shooting walnuts. Still had hi- ouch! My nose! Watch yer bloody head, Aramis!"
"I thought I asked you to hold him still? Why is everyone finding it so difficult to understand my instructions today?"
"He caught me by surprise!"
"If you focus your attention on the task instead of idle gossip, maybe he won't catch you by surprise. D'Artagnan, make yourself useful and get me the bandages from Aramis' saddle."
" 'R you done, 'Thos?"
"Yes, I've cleaned the cut and will bandage it for now. Show me your leg."
"Here's the bandages, Athos."
"Not that one. Your injured leg, Aram-"
"Oh my God, Athos! Are you all right? Let me see your chin."
"I am fine, d'Artagnan. His leg just caught me by surprise."
"See, I told ya!"
"Cut the bandages while I clean his leg. I want to get this done quickly and before he manages to accidentally maim one of us."
Ten minutes later:
" 'M perfec'ly ca'able o' ridin', 'lone 'Thos."
"For the last time, Aramis, you have a concussion. There's no question of you riding alone."
"Señora doesn' like bein' 'lone, you know tha'."
"Señora is sensible. She will understand why her master has been forced to leave her."
"That's enough, Aramis, don't test my patience. You can either ride with Porthos or remain standing here."
"Come on 'Mis, be a good boy. We're late already."
"Fine, 'elp m' up."
Half an hour later:
"Your 'orse's goin' too fas', P'rth's."
"We're going ridiculously slow, 'Mis. It's yer head."
"How's my 'ead r'spo'sible for da pace o' your 'orse?"
"Dammit! Athos, I think next time ye really should hit him. And I'll give ya a bloody nose if ye try to interfere, d'Artagnan!"
"Dis jou'ney is bor-"
"Wha'? I was abou' to say tha' dis jou'ney is borderin' on drea'ful."
A/N: Aramis' mare is called Señora. What the heck? Don't even ask me where that came from.
I'm no doctor, so I apologize for any glaring medical mistakes committed in this story.
Oh, and in case you're wondering, I haven't abandoned my other work. Somebody just tell my muse to be a bit more cooperative.