T is for Threats (Part 2)...

Aramis threw himself forwards as Athos let out a small yelp of pain before he fell to the floor- tears sprang in his eyes as he scrabbled at the ground; the pain erupting from the gunshot wound in his shoulder forced him to stop. 'Porthos!' He cried, looking to his friend as Porthos looked ahead, face ashen as he seemed to only stare into the forest ahead of them. 'Do something!'

Unbeknownst to Aramis, Porthos was not merely staring into the forest as Athos and d'Artagnan, suddenly hooded, were dragged away. He was looking to the side, at the man who had shot his friend; his revolver was out once more, at a good distance to do some real damage should he shoot- the gun was once again aimed at Aramis, who was breathing hard and clutching at his bleeding shoulder. 'They'll be alright.' He said, his brain a fuzz of anger, desperation and frustration despite his words - his hands itched to act, his feet ached to run to the man and beat the living pulp out of him... All he could do was watch as the man grinned across at them and began to walk backwards, revolver aimed at Aramis still.

'If you follow us, I'll kill them!' He shouted out, before disappearing into the shadows, leaving the two men alone.

'We..have to...do something...' Aramis groaned out, face white in the light of the moon. 'Can't...leave...them...'

'We're not going to, but you're going to bleed to death if we don't get you help soon.' Porthos replied as he stood, shaking with anger.

'I'll be fine...we need-'

'Don't play the hero, 'Mis...we don't need you to become a martyr just yet.' He interjected, casting a worried eye on Aramis' shoulder. He quickly pulled a piece of cloth from the pack on his horse and shoved it into the wound. Aramis hissed out a breath, but leaned against Porthos' legs as the bigger man scanned the forest.

'They went north...' He said aloud, worry now spearing his chest. 'There's nothing but fields and farmland out that way.'

'If there's...farmland...' Aramis groaned as he gingerly pulled himself upwards and onto his feet. 'There's got to be a farm.'

Porthos nodded in agreement. 'There's hundreds of farms though...'

'Then we search every one.' Aramis countered, gritting his teeth against the pain.

Athos woke from a hazy state of unconsciousness with a throbbing headache and the metallic taste of blood in his mouth. He lifted his head a little, groaning with the exertion of moving tired muscles; he opened bleary eyes, scanning the low stone room that was full of flickering candles. The wax was near to their end, and through the scant light he could make out the bowed figure of his comrade, still unconscious from the blow that had led to their predicament.

His dark hair was dangling over his face so he couldn't see what state he was in- as he was about to open his mouth to speak the door opened and another figure strode in, eyes flashing with malice even in the low light of the room, flanked by two bigger men on either side of him. Athos strained his arms as the man walked to a small window, peering out at the black night sky- his hands had now been bound behind him and were attached to some sort of hook, holding him fast to a cold stone wall; he could feel the wetness of it as he brushed his hands against it.

He licked his dry lips as the man still stared intently out, not saying a word. 'What do you want from us?' He finally said, casting an eye back to d'Artagnan, who still did not stir. 'I told you we do not have money.'

'Do you know what it is like, to live in squalor?' The man said, voice barely more than a whisper as he turned to face him. 'In filth?' The tone, although spoken softly, was laced with threats.

'I know not of your situation, but-'

'No, you don't. You don't know how it is like to wake with an empty stomach, knowing you will go to bed that evening with it still empty. You don't know how it is to console starving children, to shoot emaciated animals, to beg and plead at church for alms to survive each day.' The man continued, voice now raising. He fisted the crucifix at his neck, as if pulling the grace of god to him. 'If not for my faith we would have succumbed by now...' He whispered, before looking Athos dead in the eyes. 'I do not just want money- I want the tools to save my family!'

'You don't need to do it in this way!' Athos cried, straining again- he understood this man's plight, although he could not totally empathise. His past had served him well, but he had been humbled and broken as anyone once he'd lost it all. 'You could have come to Paris- the King could have-'

'The King?' The man's voice was high with incredulity and sarcasm. 'That boy king? The useless, pompous, arrogant waste of breath?'

Athos would have told him to have more respect, but on one hand he wasn't lying, and on the other he'd rather not argue whilst he was bound to a wall and the man held a gun. 'Let us help.' He said instead, trying to maintain a semblance of calmness in his voice. 'Please.'

'But you're already helping,' the man said with a grotesque smile, before crossing over to d'Artagnan- the young man groaned as the man lifted his head up by a tuft of hair before smacking his cheek to wake him up. 'We thought you were nobles crossing the forest to Paris- but musketeers...the King will pay a pretty price to have you returned to the city unharmed.' He said as d'Artagnan groggily awoke, wincing from a pain in his head.

'A ransom?' Athos muttered, feeling a snort building up. 'There are many of us. We will not be missed.' He bluffed, knowing full well that Treville would be sending out search parties if they did not turn up at first morning light. 'We are indispensable commodities.' He added.

'Is that so?' The man said, before bringing a blade out of his pocket. Athos tried to pull himself forwards as he advanced on d'Artagnan. 'What are you doing?' He growled, groaning as the rope bit into his wrists. 'He has nothing to do with this.'

'He's a musketeer, isn't he?' The man turned to d'Artagnan, who looked up with angry eyes. 'You are a musketeer?'

D'Artagnan said nothing; he wasn't going to give this thug what he wanted. The man chuckled darkly, shrugging. 'No matter- as long as we keep you in one piece, we can have a little fun, can't we?'

Athos swore under his breath. He had to distract them somehow, he had to do something... 'Have you sent Paris a message saying we're here?' He asked, hoping to catch him out, to buy a little time.

The man stepped back at that, cocking his head. 'I'm not stupid. Of course I have- they have three hours to give in to our demands, or we send them your heads.'

'Ah.' Athos muttered, a sick feeling sinking into his stomach. 'You're efficient, I'll give you that...' He whispered.

'When you survive on dry bread and berries you have to be,' the man retorted darkly. He looked back at d'Artagnan, who looked up at him as he came forwards. 'You look noble.' He said, yellow teeth bared as d'Artagnan snorted.

'I wish,' he said, arching an eyebrow. 'I was a farm boy, from a poor family.'

'You're lying.' The man argued, voice rising. 'I can spot nobility in a man's face.'

'Then your eyes deceive you, I assure you.'

'Listen here you little- the man began, before the door opened and light was thrown on the scene. Another man walked in, dressed in black. 'Brother, do not insult our guests.' The man spoke with a rough voice, placing a strong arm on the other man's shoulder and squeezing so hard the man winced and hissed out a pained breath. 'You're wanted upstairs. Now.'

The first man grumbled and did as he was bade, passing the blade to his brother before he left with the other two men. Seconds later the door was closed again, leaving the new man quite alone with the musketeers.

'I apologise for my brother- he is sick from lack of food. It goes to your head after a while you see.' He said. His voice held more malice that his brother's, and it gave even Athos chills. He was tall, not too muscly, but he had a presence about him that meant danger. He knew he couldn't let him get much leeway if they wanted to get out of this in one piece..

'I was explaining to your brother that-' the blow came out of nowhere, and Athos didn't even get a chance to move out of the way before his nose exploded in pain and he felt warm blood trickling down his chin.

'You speak when spoken to. I call the shots- you listen!' He grunted, massaging his knuckles as Athos sank back, moving his mouth around to see if his nose was broken.

'You people, thinking you can fix the problem of the poor!' He continued, face a picture of fury.

'You have us wrong!' Athos growled, feeling anger above his pain. 'We are musketeers and you will be punished for what you have done here!'

He knew he had said the wrong thing when the man gave a low chuckle and stepped back, brandishing the blade. 'How will they know where to find you?' He asked, cocking his head. 'It'll take a long time to find two bodies out in the forest.'

Athos didn't rise to it, although his heart had started to race. The man wasn't finished, however- he turned to d'Artagnan and brandished the blade- with a short cut he released the younger man from the wall, although the binds still fixed his hands together.

'You know, we were intending to sell you back to your bosses for money...but why waste good meat?' He grinned, breaking into a yellowed smile as d'Artagnan looked up instinctively with an expression of horror in his eyes. 'Desperate times.' He added in a whisper, now looking the young man up and down with almost a longing look in his eyes. 'Desperate measures.'

'If you touch one hair on his head I swear you will live to regret it.' Athos growled out, eyes full of malice. The threat of ransom, even of torture, was easy to overcome with a little effort, but the threat of cannibalism?

'You mean like this?' The man asked mock innocently, grasping a few hairs on the top of d'Artagnan's head and jerking upwards, pulling them out at the roots. He grinned as Athos pulled at his ties once more, breathing through gathering adrenaline. 'Leave him.' He spat. The boy was too young, too green for this kind of thing. 'If you need someone for your sick games then take me!'

'Athos..' D'Artagnan whispered, but the man shook him hard to tell him to be quiet.

'Games?' He said, the word a shot of anger. 'You think this a mere game?' He grinned again, before shoving the young man to the floor and delivering a kick to his ribs.

'No, leave him!' Athos shouted, raising his voice in the hope someone could hear him. 'D'artagnan!' He yelled as more blows rained down on the Gascon. He watched as he curled into himself, grunting out each breath as the man pummelled him with his feet. 'This is no game!' The man finally yelled, breathing heavily himself as he stopped his tirade. 'We have suffered too long now!'

'There are other ways!' Athos shouted, although now he knew none of his words could make a difference.

'You think we have not tried?!' The man spat, eyes now manic. 'We must make our own changes- and if this is the only way...then so be it.'

He turned away for a split second to look at Athos- that was all it took. D'Artagnan scrambled to his feet and ran at the man, knocking him off his feet and landing on top of him- his ribs protested but he ignored them as he pulled himself to the man's head and delivered a double fisted blow to his head before a counter attack could happen. There was silence as the man fell limply to the floor, although whether dead or alive, neither of them knew. D'Artagnan stood back on shaky legs, wincing in sudden pain. 'What a creep.' He finally said, arching an eyebrow. He turned to Athos, looking him over to see the extent of his injuries. He doffed his head to him, wincing on his behalf. 'Nice bruise.' He said drily, before looking on the floor for the blade.

'Are you alright?' Athos asked, conscious that someone must have heard the commotion. 'You took a hell of a beating, lad.'

'Well if it saved me being cooked up for dinner, I'll take a little rib pain.' D'Artagnan muttered, kicking the blade closer to Athos. 'How are we going to do this?'

Athos snorted at their predicament, but knew they had to be quick. 'Well it would have been helpful if your hands were bound in front of you but-'

'Hang on..' D'Artagnan muttered, before displaying an amazing display of contortionism that allowed his arms to go over his head and settle in front of him.

'Well, that's a talent.' Athos allowed, holding back a smile.

'Thanks, I used to freak my father out a lot when growing up...' D'Artagnan grinned, now working quickly to grasp the blade and walk closer to Athos.

'Just try not to stab me.' The older man muttered, before standing still as d'Artagnan went about sawing the thick rope.

A commotion upstairs told them that they were about to be disturbed. 'Quickly!' He hissed, before feeling the sweet release on his wrists and the rope loosened. 'Quick, go and stand by the wall, I don't have time to untie you-'

'But-'

'Now!' Just as d'Artagnan grudgingly did as he was told the door crashed open and the man from before came into the room,eyes wide as saucers as he took in the scene.

'What...?' His eyes settled on d'Artagnan, who was standing by the window and not where he had been tied up. 'You little-' he roared, dashing across the room, arms raised. Athos allowed him to get a little further before launching himself at him and pulling him away. The man was ready, however, and Athos grunted in pain as a blow landed on his jaw and nearly sent him spinning to the floor.

Another blow made his ears ring, and he felt a sudden lurch in his stomach as the man used his weight to throw him to the stone floor, where he straddled him and punched him relentlessly. D'Artagnan rushed forwards just as the man had his hands around Athos' throat, but he couldn't do much bar kick him in the side to get him off.

Athos was just fading into unconsciousness when the man was suddenly pushed off him and thrown across the floor. As he scrambled up he heard the sound of a musket being drawn- 'I'd stay still if I were you.' A very familiar, very angry voice said.

'Porthos...' Athos whispered through bloody lips. He felt his eye begin to swell and his jaw was already blooming in pain. Porthos knelt and put a hand on his shoulder. 'Stay still, you're alright...' He whispered, eyes angry as he surveyed the scene.

Haggard breathing could soon be heard, and d'Artagnan turned to find Aramis in the doorway, brandishing his gun. He swore loudly as he too took in the scene in front of him.

'See, I told you they'd be in the first farm we'd come across!' He said, leaning on Porthos' arm. Athos could see his arm was bandaged,for his cloak was gone and has been replaced by a stranger's woollen coat. 'Aramis...you...ok?' He groaned out from the floor as he started to stand up.

'Me? My friend it is you we need to worry about now.' Aramis muttered with concerned eyes as Porthos helped Athos up the rest of the way.

D'Artagnan stepped forwards, massaging his ribs now. 'What about the ones in the other room?'

'Taken care of.' Aramis replied. 'We managed to send a rider from a nearby village to the city- this lot will be dealt with accordingly.'

'At least we got you two back though.' Porthos added as he put an arm around Athos as he faltered a little as he began to walk forwards.

'Never...doubted you for a...second...' Athos said before he attempted to smile- the pain in his face made him regret it. 'Thank you.'

'Athos you've never thanked us for saving your skin before, so don't start now.' Aramis smiled, wincing himself as his shoulder protested at a sudden movement. 'It sounds most unnatural.'

Quickly they moved from the cellar to the main part of the farmhouse- the men that had ambushed them were all bound in a pile and gagged.

'Come on, let's get out of here.' Porthos grunted, barely giving them a glance as he led them to the door. 'The authorities will be here soon and we have more pressing matters.' He added, looking at Athos and Aramis. The others nodded their agreement and made for the door- their horses greeted them where Aramis and Porthos had tied them.

'Come on then, home awaits.' Aramis said as he mounted with a little difficulty. Soon they were heading back to Paris, each trying to forget the night's events- they were each sure it'd take a little while.

Well I hoped you liked that little double-bill fic :)

Thanks for reading! The next one will be up soon!

Please review!