What up guys.

Decided to come back. Yay me.

This will be a multi-chap fic, maybe 5 chapters? I honestly don't know at this stage.

So anyways this will involve Angst and Whumpage, 2 of the most beautiful things in existence…

Disclaimer: I do not in any way own BBC The Musketeers.

Pain.

It was all he knew. His arms hurt. His legs hurt. His chest hurt. Everything just… hurt.

It was dark. He couldn't see a thing. Granted night had fallen but his temporary state of blindness fell upon the blindfold blocking his sight.

D'Artagnan sighed, shifting his battered body slowly, as not to disturb the warm bundle that had mistaken him for a pillow.

It had taken time for the bundle to calm enough to sleep, but eventually, exhaustion won.

D'Artagnan ran his hand through her auburn hair.

She shouldn't be here, he thought. Neither of them should have been. Lucille had been an innocent bystander in a mission gone wrong. We had one job.

D'Artagnan didn't remember much before he came to in that room. The Musketeers had been sent to a small village, by order of the king. Rumors of illegal weapons dealings had reached Paris. The Inseparables had been sent to investigate these rumors, leading them to a small town a few days ride from Paris.

A noise dragged D'Artagnan from his thoughts, wrapping his arms protectively around the girl where she lay, head on his chest. As a door swung heavily open with a groan, D'Artagnan felt Lucille stiffen, alerting D'Artagnan to the fact she had awoken. Footsteps were heard, loudly making their way over to where D'Artagnan and Lucille lay, bound on the filthy, muddy floor. Hands shook him, before dragging him none too gently to his feet.

"No! What do you want with him?" a small voice screeched, devastated.

"Lucille, it's alright. I will be fine, I'll be back for you," D'Artagnan said, attempting to calm the girl. Before he knew it, D'Artagnan had been dragged away from where he and Lucille lay and dumped unceremoniously onto the ground. Blinking a few times, D'Artagnan realized the blindfold had been removed.

D'Artagnan found himself in a windowless chamber, chains hanging from the ceiling, weapons lining the walls. D'Artagnans' stomach sunk, realizing what was coming. He pulled at the ropes, binding his hands together in front of him. No luck.

The door burst open. A man entered, draped in black robes, holding something hidden from D'Artagnans' view. The man walked over to a bench in the corner, his back to D'Artagnan. Moments passed before the man turned to face him, hands behind his back.

"As I am led to understand, you are a Musketeer, are you not?" The man's voice barely more than a whisper but managing to ring out in the silence.

"What of it?" D'Artagnan responded, eyeing the man.

"I do believe that was a yes or no question." His voice was low, leaving no room for argument. D'Artagnan didn't answer.

SLAP! The man backhanded D'Artagnan. Groaning, D'Artagnan sat up, wiping his bloodied lip on the sleeve of his shirt.

"Answer me," the man hissed calmly. The man's voice had not changed tone since he arrived. D'Artagnan felt the throbbing of his lip as he spoke.

"Yes," he responded. He glared at the man. As he walked towards the door D'Artagnan tried his luck. "Who are you."

The man paused.

"I ask the questions I think you'll find." He knocked on the door, sounds of knuckles on metal echoed around the chamber. Two more men entered, swords at their hips, face hidden from view. The two giants stomped their way across the floor, none too gently thrusting D'Artagnan from the ground. Chains found their way around D'Artagnans' wrist, covering the ropes. D'Artagnan screamed as his arms were almost pulled from his sockets. He had been dragged off the ground hanging from the ceiling, solely by his wrists. His muscles groaned in response to this sudden action. Swinging, D'Artagnan lifted his head, letting his eyes roam around the dark chamber. The two other men had left, leaving D'Artagnan alone with the first man. The man-made is way slowly over to face D'Artagnan more. As D'Artagnans eyes focused, the man's face came into view more clearly. The man was bald, reasonably old. D'Artagnan found cold, dark eyes staring back at him.

"As I stated before, I ask the questions. You will respond truthfully. Failure to comply will result in pain. Are you ready to begin?" The man spoke, voice making the hairs on D'Artagnans' neck stand up. D'Artagnan didn't respond, allowing his head to sink back to his chest. A hand collided with his face again.

"I said: Are you ready to begin?" he repeated threateningly. D'Artagnan couldn't see any way out of this. He tried to reach the ground with his feet but found they could not reach. This was not good. For Lucille, he thought. A rush of adrenaline flooded D'Artagnans body. For Lucille.

"Do I have a choice?" D'Artagnan spat croakily. The man stood in front of him, face to face, his breath was putrid enough to make flies drop dead. He laughed, sending chills down D'Artagnans spine.

"No, I don't suppose you do," he smirked. "Let's begin."

Hope you enjoyed.

Chapter 2 will be up soon.

Thank you for reading!

~Psiphon