Evening My Lovelies

Sorry this is a little later than usual, I decided I didn't really like the opening when I did a quick read through an hour or so ago so decided to rewrite it and then I just kept rewriting different paragraphs until I pretty much rewrote the entire thing... On the plus side it is now tonnes better than it was and about 400 words more :D

OVER 200 REVIEWS! Love you guys, thanks for sticking with me! x

Notes On Reviews:

Tidia: Thanks for the reviews - (Chapter23) Phillip's like a minor baddie so he probably wont be alive much longer :) (Chapter24) I know! I've missed writing it! Glad you liked it. Enjoy the new chapter! x

pallysd'Artagnan: Thanks for the review - Oh well now I'm tempted to do that lol :D Hmm as for Phillip more of it will be addressed tomorrow but we'll be getting a glimpse as to what he's up to tonight. Enjoy the new chapter! x

Issai: Thanks for the reviews - (Chapter23) Hmm I do like the idea of Milady not betraying them but then my evil mind is like "but think of the angst we could have if she did betray them" so we shall have to wait and see. Alain's definitely got a mission and he and the others will ride like mad men to reach their destination. (Chapter24) Hmm it might change things but it could potentially make things worse if they think he's working with Rochefort, our pup's remaining stubborn and that might actually work in his favor if I can figure out how to word this scene idea I have in my head. Enjoy the new chapter! x

Debbie (Guest): Thanks for the review - D'Art's been pretty confident about what he's been doing so far so I quite liked the idea of that confidence failing him when he has a moment to realize just how bad things have gotten. I'm thinking the whole Head Over Heart thing might come into a conversation in a later chapter. Haha he is indeed, though it might work in his favor this time. Enjoy the new chapter! x

MicheeO: Thanks for the reviews - (Chapter18) Ha I was wondering if you would do a binge read after our conversation earlier :D (Chapter19) Louis may like D'Art, at least a little, but after being betrayed by Rochefort he's kinda seeing betrayal everywhere so is a lot colder and harsher than usual. (Chapter20) Treville definitely had his work cut out for him that's for sure. (Chapter21) Congrats on being the 200th reviewer :D (Chapter22) She is indeed :) (Chapter23) Haha yeah that was like a red flag in front of a bull lol (Chapter24) Well it was going to happen eventually :) It is me we're talking about lol. Enjoy the new chapter! x

WelshEssex (Guest): Thanks for the review - Well I figured we've waited long enough for it so might as well jump right into it :D Phillip's wound will definitely be plaguing him but he's quite determined so it'll be a question of how long he can stand the pain for. Thanks for the congrats :D Enjoy the new chapter! x

Lilac Lavender: Thanks for the review - He might had stood a chance if he hadn't already been injured, something Athos may guilt himself over when he learns about it as it is the wound he received from him that's causing most of the pup's pain right now. Haha I hadn't thought about that (not seen those films) but I like the comparison :) Phillip is kinda a bit of a minor baddie but he'll be causing some trouble before his end. D'Art's stubbornness might actually work in his favor if I can work out how to word a scene I have in my head. Glad you're liking the whumpage, I've really missed writing it. Enjoy the new chapter! x

As always much love and many thanks for following/favouriting/reviewing/reading

Love you all!

Enjoy!

xxx

Chapter Twenty-Five: Ominous News

It was several hours later when Porthos woke from his restless sleep, feeling even more exhausted then he had when he had all but passed out from the pain. It took several moments for the larger musketeer to remember what was going on, the agony from his injuries making it hard for him to think clearly, but when he did his eyes immediately began to start scanning his small cell for any sign of Constance, fear filling him as he sent up numerous prayers that she remained out of Rochefort's grip. When he saw no sign of her he all but sagged in relief, having stubbornly decided that the lack of any signs of her having been in the cell with him meant that she either continued to allude her pursuer as she made her way to the safe house D'Artagnan had instructed them to go to, or that she was already there and was working on a way to get help to him.

A low groan escaped Porthos's lips only moments later, pulling the man away from the relief he felt regarding Constance and, instead, turning his complete attention back to the agonizing pains shooting through his body, both from his injuries and from hunger. The pain was bad enough that his body was instinctively trying to curl up into itself, but this only served to make the pain worse as he had very little leeway to move and every shift caused sharp stabs of pain to shoot up from injuries on his leg.

The hunger pains were something Porthos wasn't unfamiliar with, having experience worse many times as a child growing up in the Court of Miracles but it had been a long time since he had to subject himself to such a significant lack of food and his body was greatly protesting it. Rochefort had been careful in that respect, ensuring that his prisoners had enough food and water to keep them alive but not enough to keep them strong, nor enough to help their bodies heal. As it was Porthos was suffering worse than he could have been due to the fact he had been subtly giving Constance a larger share of the food ever since they had been captured, knowing the woman would feel the affects sooner than him.

Porthos's decision to lessen the already dismal amount of food given to him each day, coupled with the man's growing list of injuries, had the musketeer quickly becoming a shell of his former self. With each day that passed the struggle to simply stay awake became harder, his exhausted body simply not having the strength anymore and he was aware bruises that would normally have healed within a few days still remained littered across his skin, their slowly fading presence turning his skin a patchwork of different colours.

He knew help needed to come soon, before he became more of a hindrance and liability to his brother than he already was. He trusted his youngest brother implicitly, knowing, without doubt or hesitation, that the younger man was doing everything and anything he could to get him out of the situation he now found himself in, and that alone made the larger man sick to his stomach. The Gascon usually had quite an idealistic view of things and a relentless stubborn streak that made it very difficult to get him to change his mind, especially about important things such as this. Porthos had no doubt that there was very little his baby brother wouldn't sacrifice without hesitation if it kept both him and Constance alive and out of Rochefort grip… But he was fading fast, Porthos knew his body would not be able to hold out indefinitely and the strength he prided himself on would soon be no use if it came to a confrontation, something he was secretly hoping for as he had been planning how to get back at Rochefort for all he had put him and his family through. The ever growing list of injuries, blood loss and complications had Porthos regretfully acknowledging that it wouldn't be too much longer before he wouldn't be able to act on such ideas as his body was slowly betraying him.

The musketeer was pulled from his darkening thoughts as the faint, yet still recognizable, sound of approaching footsteps reached his ears, followed quickly by the sound of his cell door unlocking, the metallic noise the lock made as it unlocked causing Porthos's body to instinctively tense, preparing itself for another onslaught of pain as the musketeer's face contorted from a pained grimace to a dark glare as Rochefort stepped into the room, looking as smug as ever, much to Porthos's annoyance.

Something about the look Rochefort was giving him sent chills down his spine, but the musketeer remained silent, knowing that it would get him answers quicker that actually asking a question, Rochefort too smug and arrogant to not want to brag about whatever it was that had put him in such a good mood, he had a feeling it was relating to his little brother and he prayed that he was wrong.

"I just learned a particularly interesting piece of information that I figured I'd share with you before we move on." Porthos tensed at the mention of moving but otherwise he kept his face expressionless, remaining silent as he waited for Rochefort to continue. "The King has ordered Treville to call back your friends."

Porthos blinked at this, surprise clear in his expression. He had known his brothers would likely be out searching, if not for him then for D'Artagnan, he had no idea what the younger man had done to result in Athos shooting him, but he did know that there was nothing that would stop either of his brothers seeking out their youngest if, for even a second, they suspected he was in trouble. He also knew Treville would do what he could to circumvent that order, the man not one to sit idly by while those under his command suffered.

"Like that'll stop them," smirked Porthos with more surety then he felt, "You know Athos," he continued, a sense of pride for his brother rising within him as he noticed the look on Rochefort's face at the mention of the swordsman's name. "Do you really think Athos will abandon us?"

At this Rochefort chuckled darkly, slowly approaching the restrained musketeer as he spoke. "D'Artagnan's been declared a traitor by the King."

This time Porthos was completely unable to hide his reaction, absolute shock flashing across his features before anger and fury took its place and with what little strength he had remaining he threw himself at the former minister, ignoring the excruciating, inferno of pain in his leg as he placed all his weight on his bloodstained limb so he could use his good one to launch a surprisingly powerful kick at the man's gut, relishing at the chocked gasp that his action caused as Rochefort's struggled to regain the breath Porthos had knocked from his lungs.

Standing hunched as he gasped for breath Rochefort grimaced, coughing twice in his hand before forcing his now protesting body to stand upright, anger burning brightly in his eyes.

Without wasting a moment he stepped forward, his hand pressing hard on one of Porthos's many wounds, causing a shout of pain to escape the musketeer's lips, a shout that quickly turned into an agonized scream as he proceeded to dig his thumb into the bleeding wound.

"That, musketeer," spat the former minister, "was most unwise."

Elsewhere, hidden in the shadows behind a large tree Phillip watched from a distance with narrowed eyes as his target was stopped by a man he vaguely recognized as a musketeer, the two speaking in hushed tones for several moments, the scene looking very much like the man was chastising the young woman before he gently led her back inside, looking back over his shoulder worriedly as if he had felt eyes on them.

From his hiding space Phillip growled lowly at the musketeer, knowing he was going to be a problem, but even that surprise addition could not dim the dark excitement that had been steadily growing within him ever since he had picked up the woman's trail hours earlier.