A/N Explanation time... right, this series will feature fics based on the idea that 1 or more of the musketeers loses something. They will be varied in tone from angsty to comedic to friendship to anything else I will feel like.
The stories will be based on the 2011 movie most of the time though I might ignore the ending in regards to Buckingham charging to war and Rochefort dying.
Every chapter title will include the name of the musketeer who lost something plus the lost item. In case a story will be over 1 chapter, the name will also include the number e.g. the Aramis eyesight story is planned to have 3 or 4 parts, hence this chapter being called Aramis, Eyesight Part 1.
Both encouragement and constructive criticism are very much welcome though outright flaming will be ignored ;)
Why could a mission never go smoothly? Athos had been asking himself that very question for the last few hours. They were soldiers and every single one of them was prepared to die for the king, queen or their beloved France but every now and then, one of them would get hurt and the possibility of losing their best friends became just that little more real. Those were the worst of times because for all their bravado and bravery, they all turned into worried mother hens when one of their own got hurt. And with their lifestyles, it happened far too often for everybody's liking.
Today had been no different even if at first it appeared like an easy enough mission. The quartet had been sent to a small town just a few hours outside of Paris to investigate a band of bandits who had been terrorizing the citizens. In reality, there were suspicions that they were in fact English spies and the musketeers were sent to find out the truth and eliminate the threat under the disguise of protecting the town's people. For 3 days they had been observing the troupe and all four had to agree that these were indeed more than just mere bandits. However, before they could find out who they were working for and what was their objective, a minor mistake blew their cover. They weren't the worst odds the four had ever faced, in fact the odds were quite good with the bandits outnumbering them only 5 to 1 but lady luck had definitely abandoned them that day. D'Artagnan was his usual energetic self jumping from bandit to bandit with more heart than style; Porthos was bludgeoning the enemy with everything he could find within reach, he always left his sword only to worst case scenarios. Athos himself had been fighting with deadly efficiency and taking care of his last opponent, he checked up on his friends. D'Artagnan was practically finished and Porthos was mostly just playing with the 2 bandits he had left so there wasn't much reason for concern. Aramis was engaged with 3 bandits of his own and while he seemed to be doing alright, Athos couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.
It became frighteningly clear what as Aramis dispatched of one of his opponents giving Athos a clear view of the fallen spy on the ground. He wasn't dead, just wounded and currently aiming his musket at Aramis. His blood running cold, Athos quickly took out the dagger from his belt and threw it hoping he wouldn't be too late. The dagger hit its target, only not as precisely as Aramis himself would have been able to achieve. Athos did however manage to hit the spy's shoulder thus altering his aim significantly. Seconds later a large explosion could be heard as the bullet hit the keg behind Aramis and the last 2 bandits. Regaining his footing, Athos felt himself freeze at the sound of agony filled screams he quickly identified as Aramis'. Forcing himself back into motion, he ran to the heap of bodies where he last saw Aramis stand. Falling to his knees by his friend, Athos instantly realized a few things. The keg must have been filled with gun powder to cause such an explosion; the only reason Aramis was still alive was the smoking corpse of the bandit who had been standing between the musketeer and the keg thus protecting him from most of the impact; and lastly, that there were still some parts of Aramis that hadn't been protected, most prominently his eyes. Currently, he was holding them with his hands in pain but even so the blackened skin around them that was bleeding in places from splinters was visible.
His gut clenching in fear, Athos grabbed hold of Aramis' hands using his greater strength to pull them away from his face. He could feel his stomach turning at the sight that met him and promptly tore off part of the bandit's shirt to create a makeshift bandage. By the time Porthos and D'Artagnan got to them, Aramis' eyes had been covered and Athos was barking orders left and right to get them moving. Time was essential and since it would take at least 3 hours of riding to get back to Paris, they couldn't afford to lose any more. Cradling the fallen musketeer in his arms he ordered D'Artagnan to get their horses while he explained to Porthos what to do next. Since the former priest wouldn't be able to ride on his own and they would be too heavy with Porthos while D'Artagnan wouldn't be able to hold him for so long, it was only logical that he should ride with Athos. He quickly told Porthos how to hand him Aramis once he was sitting on his horse. Nodding in understanding, Porthos took Aramis from Athos doing his best to stop him from struggling so he wouldn't hurt himself even more. By the time they did this, D'Artagnan was on his way back with the horses.
The moment he reached them, Athos quickly jumped onto his own horse, stretching his arms out for the precious cargo that Porthos carried with infinite care. So far, Aramis wasn't reacting to any of them, just gasping and moaning in pain which made the giant worry for his best friend. Once Aramis was sitting in front of Athos, he rested him against his chest as comfortably as he could and kicked his horse into gear, not waiting for the other 2 because he knew they would catch up with them. Without any words but exchanging looks full of concern, Porthos and D'Artagnan jumped onto their own horses and rode away, the younger making sure to grab the reins of Aramis' steed before leaving.
About halfway back home, Athos felt his friend relaxing against his chest and realized that Aramis had passed out since he stopped making any sounds. Taking this as a bad sign he willed his horse to run faster still. He didn't even realize that he held his friend even more tightly to his chest as if he could protect him from the pain. By the time they entered Paris, they split up with D'Artagnan hurrying to fetch the doctor as Porthos and Athos rode hard to their house. In the back of their mind they hoped that they hadn't injured anybody with their mad dash through the city, several people had to jump away from their path, but they had much more important matters at hand.
Stopping before their house door, Porthos jumped off his horse and took Aramis into his arms from Athos. Kicking the door open he carried the unconscious musketeer upstairs to his room, marvelling for a second at how light Aramis felt in his arms and that they ought to feed their friend more. By the time he managed to undress him down to his breeches for greater comfort, Athos had led the horses to their stable and joined him after barking at Planchet to wait for D'Artagnan's return. It didn't take long for the youngest to arrive with the doctor, Aramis' spare horse definitely made their journey faster. Within moments he ran up the stairs and began examining the patient. Since the room was far too overcrowded, and Athos didn't want his friends to witness what he did, he told Porthos and D'Artagnan to wait outside while he helped the doctor. Reluctant to leave their fallen comrade but listening to reason, both of them shuffled out of the room and went in search of some strong alcohol. Wine wouldn't be enough right now.
They were both sick with anxiety when they heard Aramis scream but forced themselves to stay where they were. Knowing they had no way of helping their friend made both of them feel absolutely useless. After what appeared like an eternity during which Porthos managed to practically dent the floor with his pacing, the doctor slowly descended the steps, his face looking grim. D'Artagnan had to grab onto Porthos to prevent him from jumping onto the poor doctor as he sat down before them and cleaning his glassed began to explain.
"I did what I could but I'm afraid that young Aramis has a hard time before him."
His words only intensified their unease.
"Athos explained what happened and based on the injuries that Aramis sustained, I fear for his eyesight. The explosion must have hit him right in his face and while I have no doubt that the burns and cuts will heal fine, I cannot say for certain that he will ever see as well as before, if at all. I have cleaned his eyes out and applied healing salve; I will mix you more that you can come pick up tomorrow. His eyes need to stay bandaged for at least 2 weeks during which you need to clean them with water, apply salve and redress once a day, Athos knows how. If there are any complications, fetch me at once; otherwise I shall return in 2 weeks and check on Aramis' progress. Until then, I need you to take good care of him as he will not only be in great pain but rendered blind for the time being. I trust he is in good hands."
With the grim news the doctor left, once again repeating that the salve would be ready by tomorrow afternoon. A great dread soaked the whole house with the prospect of Aramis never healing as Porthos and D'Artagnan walked to his room to check up on him.
