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"Athos."

d'Artagnan is taking your wine. It's probably not the smartest move, but there it is.

"You'll do well to give that back."

That was his second and his hand reaches for it still.

The second means that Athos is that much slower and d'Artagnan can dodge him.

"Don't you think you've had enough?"

He stopped the youth's hand easily and looked up at him.

"You're not to judge. And a second isn't bad."

"It isn't. And a third probably isn't either. Or a fourth. Until you fall down and I have to help you get to your feet."

d'Artagnan is concerned and looks up to Athos greatly.

"What happened?" To cause the drinking, he means.

"I can get by on my own feet, d'Artagnan," he sighed into his wine goblet. There was never any real reason other than one. Even now, it was the same reason.

Sitting across from him, d'Artagnan says, "she's gone. Well forgotten. Didn't you say you were saving yourself?"

"You go back to the woman and make each other happy. Let me to my wine," Athos replied easily, grabbing the wine bottle back from him.

"Someone's got to make sure you make it back to the garrison. Seeing as I'm here, it's me." d'Artagnan takes the wine bottle back.

He takes it back and pours himself another glass before taking a healthy drink from it.

Sigh.

"Athos. Come on."

The bottle is taken and given to a passing waitress, with orders not to serve Athos any more. So there.

"If you think one bottle of wine was enough to get me anywhere, you've a lot to learn." He waved for a different waitress to bring back his bottle and took a deep swig from it. "Three bottles and I wasn't able to kill you, now was I?"

"Hopefully that's because you weren't trying to kill me." Really, d'Artagnan is thinking he needs to tie his friend's hands down. "It isn't as if you have all the bad luck, you know."

He turned his gaze toward the young man. So alike. Sometimes, he wondered if he ever had a son, if he'd turn out to be like d'Artagnan. The thought was frightening.

Thank you very much, Athos, for your faith.

d'Artagnan had been a very good son.

Anyway, he felt like he was tending an ornery old drunkard at this rate. "Did something happen? Something to trigger this?"

He waved for the wine again and took another healthy gulp.

"I thought I smelled her perfume.l

"Her - "

Sighing, d'Artagnan raised his brows. Really? Perfume? (Not that he hasn't ... anyway).

"Where?"

"Wasn't her. Someone else that had the same scent," Athos replied. "Go on with your whatever it is you were doing. Don't need to be out here when you've got other places to be."

"I'm not leaving you here alone." And that was that. d'Artagnan stretched out in his seat. "Jasmine?"

"Don't you have a wife to be waiting for you?" It came out more bitterly than he intended it to be. Perhaps he was slipping. He took another deep drink of wine. "Might be different."

The jab hit, but rolled off. d'Artagnan stayed there, watching him. "What might be different?"

"You. Already different as a musketeer, you might be able to pull off marriage better than any of us."

Athos waved for his third bottle. Healing was a slow and painful process. In this, he didn't know if he'll ever recover.

" ... do you really think so?" d'Artagnan asked, leaning forward. "Sincerely."

He learned to be careful of his words but with him, he needed to be honest.

"d'Artagnan, has she given you who she was in the past? Merlin is a man, not a woman."

Blinking, d'Artagnan leaned back where he sat, back straight. "... what are you saying?"