Hello. I'm currently struggling with writer's block for another story so I'm trying to push through it with this which came to mind. It probably isn't as well thought out as usual and will hopefully only be a few chapters long (I'm terrible at estimating). Anything that doesn't make sense please let me know. Set after S1 Ep10.
Warning: This contains potentially upsetting scenes.
Disclaimer: I don't own the Musketeers.
All mistakes are mine so please let me know of any large errors or irrritating errors. :)
This story was inspired by this song.
There's a grief that can't be spoken
There's a pain goes on and on
Empty chairs at empty tables
Now my friends are dead and gone
Oh my friends, my friends forgive me
That I live and you are gone
There's a grief that can't be spoken,
And there's a pain goes on and on
Phantom faces at the window,
Phantom shadows on the floor,
Empty chairs at empty tables where my friends will meet no more.
Oh my friends, my friends don't ask me
What your sacrifice was for
Empty chairs at empty tables
Where my friend will sing no more.
Les Misérables – (Abridged)
Empty Chairs
The musketeers were travelling back from Bordeaux after delivering a letter from the King for the Duke. The Duke had taken some time to form his reply and the weather had been hot and humid for the days of their trip there and back. Finally, they had been able to leave with the Duke's reply and were now close to Paris after riding through the scorching sun and thick humidity for a few days.
'Finally, we can get back,' Aramis mumbled with the brim of his hat low over his eyes.
'Yeah, it's been too hot and I just want to sleep forever,' Porthos agreed.
'I don't know why, but this trip has been worse than the others,' D'Artagnan said as he wiped his sweaty brow.
'The Duke was a pain making us wait outside and then taking forever to write his reply. He could have at least fed us!' Porthos said with exasperation.
'You know the nobles don't want to be sullied by us,' Aramis chortled with a grin.
'We're the King's personal guard! What can he have against us?' D'Artagnan said looking weary.
'He still considers us far beneath him,' Athos spoke at last. 'We are just servants.'
'Good to hear your voice,' Porthos smiled but Athos couldn't see as he had the brim of his hat well over his eyes.
'Thought you were dead for a moment,' Aramis winked at Porthos and D'Artagnan who laughed.
'I will be if we don't stop for water soon,' Athos said with a sigh.
'There's a stream up ahead,' D'Artagnan said as he saw the trees nearby where they had filled up their water on their way there.
'And shade,' Aramis muttered. He had somehow managed to catch a cold before they left and was still feeling rather hot although thankfully the worst had passed during the first days of their trip.
They approached the trees and all let out audible sighs as they entered the shade.
'That's better,' Porthos sighed as he undid his leather doublet and made his way down to the stream.
The others followed suit and quickly filled their canteens to brim with water before scooping water out of the stream with their hands.
'I think we should rest for a while,' Athos said as he daubed his sunburnt neck.
'Ouch,' Aramis winced as he saw Athos' neck. 'I think I have something for that,' he said as moved towards his horse.
'I'm ok,' Athos said but he looked weary. 'Thanks,' he said as he took the tin of paste from Aramis who returned moments later.
Soon the musketeers were lying down in the shade resting as the sun passed midday. They agreed to start their journey again in about half an hour. The shade was good for the horses as well as the horses had shown signs of overheating.
The musketeers were unaware that they were being watched. The Duke of Lorraine was not happy with the correspondence King Louis had with the Duke of Bordeaux. Lorraine was out of favour with the King and the he wanted to know what the King was saying to the other prominent dukes of France.
Word of the letter had been leaked and the letter was of value to know what was being discussed. The Duke's men knew that the musketeers could never remain alive as it would risk the Duke's exposure. It would be best for the King to believe that bandits had attacked the musketeers rather than soldiers as that would divert suspicion. The musketeers would know straight away that had been attacked by skilled men so the orders were dispose of all the King's men.
Aramis slowly sat upright as heard a different noise that came from his right. The others watched him carefully and kept quiet with their postures relaxed. The look he gave them told them that they were not alone and whoever it was in the trees on his right.
Aramis blinked slowly, then again and on the third blink the musketeers sprang into action as the hastened towards their weapons that they had left nearby.
A shot rang out from the direction Aramis had been looking and Aramis hissed with pain as the shot grazed his left forearm. He didn't have time to worry about it as more shots rang out simultaneously. The musketeers grabbed their weapons and saw their attackers racing towards them.
There were at least twenty men and some still had pistols raised. The musketeers dived behind the largest trees next to them and heard the shots ricochet off the wood. Once the volley of bullets had ended Aramis moved quickly and shot two men quickly and accurately. Porthos hit his target in the thigh and though the shot didn't kill the man instantly the amount of blood flowing from the wound suggested an arterial shot.
Athos' shot hit the man in the chest and most likely the heart while D'Artagnan's shot caught the shoulder of his man but it was unlikely to be fatal.
'You're outnumbered,' a tall man called. 'You can't win. Give us the letter from the Duke of Bordeaux and you can be on your way.'
'If we don't?' Athos asked with his usual drawl.
'You're dead,' the man laughed.
'Can we think about that for a moment?' Aramis asked jovially as he reloaded his pistols. 'It's something we need to discuss.'
Athos, Porthos and Aramis directed their looks to D'Artagnan. Their message was clear. 'You have the letter and you will ride back to Paris while we fight.' All of the men were quickly reloading their pistols.
D'Artagnan grimaced and gave a pleading look but he knew the letter was important and had to be the priority. The horses were scattered but close-by. D'Artagnan could see his horse and knew he had to make a run for it while the others covered him.
It was then that D'Artagnan noticed Athos' thigh was bleeding and signalled to Aramis who shrugged. This wasn't the time to worry about Athos as there was still a job to do.
'Time's up,' shouted the tall man.
'So it is,' Athos responded as Aramis and Porthos took their shots hitting three men who dropped like marionettes who had had their strings cut.
D'Artagnan ran as fast as he could towards his horse as he heard shots being fired all around. Thankfully his horse hadn't bolted at the shots as he saw his rider approaching.
D'Artagnan mounted and then gave one last look towards his brothers. The shots had all been fired and now the swords were drawn. D'Artagnan turned and kicked his horse forward and rode for Paris as fast as he could.
He knew he was being chased but he also knew his horse was fast. The two men continued to give chase and D'Artagnan could feel his horse's energy fading. A shot rang out and D'Artagnan felt a searing pain through his right shoulder. He struggled to keep hold of the reins and reached for his pistol. He turned his horse around and aimed with his left hand. Aramis had insisted that he learn with both hands just in case of situations like this.
He aimed and shot hitting one of the riders square in the chest. He was rather proud of himself but the good feeling didn't last long as the second man shot his pistol but the aim was wayward. D'Artagnan gathered himself and tried to focus and ignore the pain.
Athos had shown him how to throw his dagger effectively just last week. He gripped the blade and watched the man approach. He kept calm and threw his dagger hitting the man in the leg, not where he intended, and the man fell from his horse. D'Artagnan quickly dismounted as the man tried to recover from the fall. D'Artagnan knelt on his chest to stop him rising and placed his left hand on the dagger in the man's thigh.
'Who do you work for?' D'Artagnan asked.
'Your mother,' the man spat back and yelled as D'Artagnan twisted the dagger.
'Who?' D'Artagnan asked heatedly as he dug his knee into the man's chest. Porthos had always said this was effective in keeping a man down as it restricted breathing.
'Go...to hell,' the man gasped. The eyes of the two men met and D'Artagnan knew he wouldn't get the answer he sought. He pulled the dagger from the man's leg and thrust it into his chest. Moments later the man stopped breathing.
D'Artagnan collapsed to the ground as his energy left him. He didn't know how long he sat there but he was jolted by his horse nudging him. Paris was close and he knew he had to get the letter back. His brothers were relying on him.
D'Artagnan ran as the shots were fired and the remaining musketeers knew they had a big fight on their hands.
The musketeers were accurate with their shots but thankfully none of the returning shots hit any of them.
'The young one ran,' the man who had been talking shouted. 'You two go after him,' he ordered to two men.
The musketeers grimaced as they had hoped D'Artagnan would get away unseen. D'Artagnan would have to have his wits about him.
They launched into their attacked with their swords and daggers drawn. The men attacked as well and soon the musketeers were battling for their lives. Athos killed two men with one swipe of his sword but another caught him in the back of his injured left leg and he crumpled to the floor.
'Athos!' Porthos shouted as he saw his brother go down. He had already killed one man with his dagger now stuck in the man's throat. Unfortunately, that meant he had lost his dagger. He sliced another man's thigh and wounded another before he felt the butt of a pistol hit the back of his head and he too fell.
Aramis continued to fight as he killed one man by slicing across his chest and then thrust his dagger into another's stomach. He felt a slice to his calf and fell to his knees. He swivelled and caught the other man's legs and the man let out a howl of pain. Aramis collapsed as he was kicked hard in the ribs and found himself on his back facing a sword.
'Does the young one have the letter or did you use him as bait?' the man asked as all three musketeers were defeated.
Silence was the answer.
'Search them,' the man ordered as the musketeers found themselves being pushed onto their stomachs as they were searched. 'Find the horses,' the man ordered.
'Whoo-whip,' Porthos managed through the pain he was feeling and the clattering of hooves could be heard.
'That wasn't clever,' the man hissed as he kicked Porthos hard in the stomach and then took his own dagger and drew blood as he scraped Porthos' neck.
'Who are you?' Athos asked as he tried to distract the man.
'None of your business,' the man growled as he turned away from Porthos.
'I only ask as I like to know the names of the men I kill,' Athos said absent-mindedly as the man laughed.
'Laugh all you want. It's true,' Aramis piped up. 'It's rather impersonal to just kill someone isn't it?'
'Much more satisfying to know their name,' Athos agreed.
'Tie'em up,' the man ordered as the men complied. 'Build a pyre. I don't want them to be recognisable.' The musketeers shared worried glances. 'My name is Raymond, by the way,' he said with a grin.
D'Artagnan rode as fast as he was able. The wound to his shoulder was incredibly painful but he trusted his horse knew where to go. The heat was making him feel light-headed and nauseous but he had to get back to the garrison.
'D'Artagnan!' cried a voice and D'Artagnan realised he had made it back to the garrison and was looking down at a worried Joubert.
'Joubert?' he croaked as his mind started to wander.
'Easy kid,' Joubert said as he and Vasselin, who had just appeared from nowhere, helped him down.
'Others trapped. Need help,' D'Artagnan spluttered as he was helped to the nearest bench.
'D'Artagnan,' Tréville's voice rang out and D'Artagnan looked up to see concern on his Captain's face. 'Where did you leave them?'
'Trees...by...stream,' was all D'Artagnan could say as his light-headedness started to overcome him. 'Letter,' he reached in his pocket and brought out the Duke of Bordeaux's letter to the King.
'Trees by a stream,' Tréville muttered as he suddenly realised where D'Artagnan was talking about. 'Joubert, Vasselin, Gabriel,' he called. He instructed them to take some men and search for Athos, Porthos and Aramis with instructions where to find them. Tréville desperately wanted to go himself but he knew the letter had to take priority.
'Get him into the infirmary,' Tréville ordered to the cadets indicating D'Artagnan, 'and someone find Doctor Durant!' he shouted at no-one in particular.
Tréville was distracted by the thoughts of his best men being ambushed and potentially dead. He wandered into the palace without noticing where he was walking and accidently bumped into the Cardinal.
'Watch where you're going!' the Cardinal said with clear irritation. The look on Tréville's face said it all. 'What's happened?' he asked curiously.
'I need to speak with the King,' Tréville said as he marched off. The Cardinal followed swiftly behind him.
'Ah Tréville!' Louis said with exuberance as Tréville.
'What's wrong Captain?' the Queen asked seeing Tréville's grim look.
'I have the response from the Duke of Bordeaux,' Tréville handed the letter to Louis after bowing.
'Captain?' the Queen asked forcefully as he hadn't answered her question. Louis was also looking at him expectantly.
'D'Artagnan returned with the letter but he had been shot,' Tréville said using little expression. 'All he could tell me was that he had left Athos, Porthos and Aramis in trees near a stream. I believe I know where that is so I have sent men to investigate.'
'You are worried for their safety?' the Queen looked more shocked than Tréville would have thought but he remembered how close she had become to those four when her life was in danger.
'I am Majesty,' Tréville said to the Queen.
'D'Artagnan left them?' the Cardinal sneered.
'Due to the importance of the letter the others most likely instructed D'Artagnan to return to the garrison alone,' Tréville said coldly. 'He did not desert them, if that is what you're suggesting.'
'Quite right of course,' Louis said before Richelieu could reply. 'The letter is of great importance,' Louis said pompously.
'Let us hope it will be good news when your men find them,' Anne said quietly. 'I will pray for them.'
'Thank you Majesty,' Tréville said with a nod. 'I must return to the garrison and find out what happened if D'Artagnan is able to talk.'
D'Artagnan was barely aware of what was going on around him. He heard voices talking to him but he couldn't make sense of it. His shoulder hurt. He knew that much. He was trying to stay awake but he was suddenly brought to his senses by the feeling of someone scraping around for the ball in his shoulder.
'Arggh, Aramis!' he shouted until he was aware that the man holding the ball that had just been extricated from his shoulder was not Aramis. 'Doctor Durant?'
'D'Artagnan,' the doctor said with a small smile. 'You recognise me now.'
D'Artagnan looked around as if to find someone but suddenly realised why they weren't there. He started to get out of bed and was pushed back down by Durant.
'No moving,' he said. 'I still need to stitch the wound,' he said in a no-nonsense manner.
'But my friends...' D'Artagnan started before collapsing due to exhaustion.
'You need rest after I've stitched that up,' he pointed towards D'Artagnan's shoulder. 'You've lost a lot of blood,' the doctor explained.
'But I need...to see...the Captain,' D'Artagnan huffed. 'My friends-'
'Captain Tréville has already sent men out there,' Durant said softly. 'There is nothing you can do but get better,' he said gently as he moved D'Artagnan more on his side so the wound could be cleaned and sewed. D'Artagnan felt the sting of the wine used to clean the wound but felt no more as he fell unconscious.
Gabriel, Joubert and Vasselin led the musketeers on the search for the remaining Inseparables. Tréville had been sure of his directions and the musketeers were on the lookout for anything out of the ordinary. They soon found the bodies of the men that had followed D'Artagnan lying in the raod.
They quickly moved the bodies out of the way and knew they were on the right tracks. They continued further keeping a vigil of concentration for any sign of their comrades. Three familiar horses appeared which added to the worry as their riders were nowhere to be seen.
Suddenly, they all felt sick to their stomachs as black smoke was rising from the trees in the distance.
A/N: I hope to update this soon but I don't know exactly when I'll have time. The idea is already thought out though so it will be finished. I would love to hear your thoughts and you can PM with any concerns over the direction of the story. I hope you enjoyed it so far. :)