Apparently these dreams aren't done. That being said, mine seem to have reset, but they're not quite the same as they were before. That is to say, we're all still musketeers, but we're a bit more ... Put together, I suppose. And I'm much younger. Well, I'm about twenty-three or so (and Athos and Porthos are very much the same age, if not older, HAH). This incarnation of me is a bit more delicate, I'd say, mannerism-wise. More sensitive, perhaps, too, and certainly of high opinion of himself. He's got some sass on him, at any rate, and continues to insist that being a musketeer is only a temporary job until he rejoins the church and becomes an abbé.
And never fear, D'Artagnan is still there. In the form of a rowdy eighteen year old who offends each of us, and then sets a duel time with each of us only an hour apart. Imagine our surprise when we show up to be Athos' seconds and he's fighting the same boy we're meant to. Then we fight some Red Guards (it should be noted that I fought two while the rest only took on one), the King congratulated us with plenty of money (we're always poor). This dream-me spends a lot of time reading or writing, and his lackey is named Bazin, which I find hilarious if only because I had no idea that would be the case when I named my cat Bazin.
And, as always, my chosen mistress of the time was quite affluent, and, being caught up in some courtly scandal was exiled out of Paris. The scandal seems to have elevated, though, and I suspect some great adventure is about to happen.