Merry Christmas My Lovelies!

Okay so I wanted to get this out on Christmas day as the last couple of years I've published something then as a Christmas treat but as it's now quarter past 2 in the morning it's technically Boxing day but as I have yet to go to bed I figured it could still count lol :)

To any of my lovely followers who have joined me for yet another story I say Hello and thank you for returning and to any newbies to my work I say welcome and please check out my other stories, especially if you like a good helping of whumpage :D

Usually when I first start uploading I have a batch written and so can do daily updates for at least the first 10 chapters or so but given I only finished that last story a few days ago I don't have as big of a bank of chapters, plus if the last few stories have told me anything I'm going to suffer from major writer's block so instead of saying I'll do daily updates and then not deliver I'm going to go for updates every other day as this should give me plenty of time to combat the dreaded writer's block without becoming ridiculously stressed :D

Disclaimer: I don't own the musketeers, only the general plot idea for this story and any and all OC's that appear :)

With that out of the way, let's get on with the story and please feel free to send me comments/criticism (constructive only please!)/ideas for scenes you'd like to see.

Enjoy

xxx

Chapter One: Fate

Never before had he given as much thought to what happened to the men they arrested as he did right now, staring up at the wooden platform several feet in front of him. It was a sight he had seen many times before but he had never seen it from the viewpoint he was now and he found himself sickened by the experience.

Unfortunately he was given little time to digest the sight before him as not long after he had stopped walking he received a sharp nudge from behind that had him stumbling forward, lightly tripping over his own feet as his aching body struggled to keep itself upright.

At any other time the perpetrator would likely have been on the receiving end of a sharp look and witty retort or sarcastic comment about the bruise he might develop from the incident. However this time his mind was too preoccupied on what he would soon be facing to really register the nudge let alone care about the bruise it might give him or the sarcastic comments he could make in retaliation for receiving it. Besides, he could care little about one more small bruise when he had many, in various stages of healing, littering his skin, hidden from view underneath his dirty and torn clothing.

Apparently, he had become lost in his thoughts and stilled for too long as he received another sharp nudge that had him hissing lighting in pain before beginning to walk once more.

As he approached the wooden platform he could feel his body trembling and while he wanted to believe it was due to exhaustion he could at least, in the privacy of his mind, admit that he wasn't sure if it was due to exhaustion, pain or fear.

He hated himself for feeling fear, even if it was a perfectly reasonable response to what he was facing. The jeers that followed him as he slowly walked forward only solidified his resolve to do everything in his power to hide his fear. Choosing instead to force his aching body to straighten so he could project a look of confidence and walk with his head held high, his pride preventing him from showing even an ounce of fear to those he had a feeling had something to do with his current predicament.

Walking up the platform's steps had his earlier fear returning with a vengeance, though he did his best to force it down by focusing on the silent prayers he had been saying since learning his coming fate.

This became difficult however due to the noise of the crowd. He had tried to shut it out and had resolutely refused to look at them but a particularly colourful curse from a voice that sounded somewhat familiar had the man turning his head to face them, the sight he was greeted with warming his fear-gripped heart.

Red guard members were being forced to act as a human barricade against what could best be described as a swarm of musketeers who were protesting, valiantly fighting against the red guards in a desperate but unfortunately vain attempt to reach him. To his slight amusement, he could hear, even given the distance between them, the occasional shout of his name or demands for his release.

Though he knew their efforts wouldn't amount to anything he couldn't stop or hide the small, though somewhat strained smile that tugged at his lips, something that faded almost as quickly as it came when, as he scanned the crowd, he was unable to spot the three people his heart was desperate to see, even just one more time.

In a way, he was almost glad they weren't here. He knew seeing him like he was would most definitely cause them a great deal of pain, plus they would be unable to see him without wanting to try and help, something that was very likely to end in them getting hurt physically themselves, which was the very last thing he ever wanted for those he cared about.

That being said there was a larger part of him that did desperately want them to be with him. It was rare that they ever faced anything, especially something of this magnitude, alone and he didn't know how to feel that he would be now. He knew it would hurt them emotionally to see him like he currently was but he was slowly starting to accept his fate and only found himself wishing he could look at the faces of those he cared about most in the world when it happened, knowing that being able to do so would give him immeasurable comfort.

Thoughts of his beloved brothers consumed his mind so completely that he missed the sound of someone approaching from behind, only to realize what was happening when the shouts and protests turned frantic and full of alarm.

Unfortunately, he had little time to figure out why before he felt a noose of coarse rope being forced over his head, causing a fresh surge of fear to flood his body.

On instinct his eyes screwed shut, prayers and pleas falling silently from his lips as he desperately tried not to focus on what was going on behind him, choosing instead to force his mind to replay memories of the good times spent with his friends, wanting to be thinking of good times when the man behind him finally pulled the leaver.

The wait seemed to go on forever and he was about to scream at the man to just do it when an all too familiar shout of his name cut through the screams of protest to reach him causing his eyes to shoot open just in time to see the pale, anguished face of his beloved friends for a fraction of a second before the leaver was pulled and the ground suddenly disappeared underneath him.