Warning: This chapter contains scenes of physical and emotional torture. Please be aware of this before continuing.


Chapter Twenty-Eight

The Musketeers rose early to make sure they were ready for their hunt with the King. Among them the three remaining Inseparables were looking withdrawn and tired. None of them had slept well during the night as they continued to worry about Aramis. Aramis had gone on solo missions before but this one truly had them all worried. Tréville wouldn't be accompanying them as he didn't wish to put himself in the King's eyeline after the recent events. He also knew that he couldn't ride well with his recovering ribs. Doctor Lemay had said that they were healing well and he didn't wish to aggravate them. This left Athos in charge and the musketeer was clearly showing the strain. With the help of Porthos and D'Artagnan they managed to get the regiment ready for the King's hunt and arrived on time although they all knew that Louis was never one for punctuality.


Aramis woke to the sound of mumbling voices but he couldn't quite decipher what was being said but he knew he recognised one of the voices. He realised his concussion had not completely abated and his thought process was slower than usual.

'Ah you're awake,' Renard crouched before Aramis. Renard grimaced as he realised Aramis' concussion was still affecting him. Aramis remembered how Renard had left him the night before and normally he would baulk at the idea of making his injuries seem worse than they were, but he knew if he could delay Renard's attack on him then his brothers might stand a chance in finding him.

Aramis groaned slightly as Renard grabbed his chin and lifted his head.

'Damn,' Renard muttered as he let go and Aramis let his chin fall to his chest as he lay on the straw. 'Get him some broth,' he said angrily as he stormed out of the cell.

Aramis now hoped that Renard would wait to hurt him but he also knew he couldn't act like this for long. Renard would surely become suspicious quickly if he let it go on too long. Aramis surveyed his cell and could see that it was fairly big but he couldn't determine if the whole of the structure was large or small. He was sure he was underground as the only light source was a small window high up the wall. Aramis managed to stagger as far as his chains would let him and was sure he saw a glimmer of grass that confirmed his theory. Currently he was wearing his leather doublet but he could feel the chill in the air. Without the straw and if they were to take his coat he knew he would be in trouble.

Aramis looked up to the high ceiling and what he saw made his stomach turn. A hook on a sturdy chain hung from the ceiling and Aramis realised that the length of the chain could be altered. He would most likely be hanging from it soon, he was sure of it. He looked further but his headache was causing problems and so far he could see no way out of the cell and no weaknesses. The cell certainly didn't hold anything that resembled a weapon.

Aramis heard footsteps approaching as he quickly sat on the straw trying to look stubborn yet pitiful. The cell door was unlocked, which was hardly necessary to lock with Aramis chained, and Simon walked in holding a mug of broth and some bread.

Simon didn't speak but placed the broth and bread next to Aramis and quickly left. Aramis swore that there was pity in the man's eyes and that unnerved him even more.


Renard stormed outside. He was angry that he had hit the musketeer so hard. Aramis clearly had concussion so his plan would have to wait. He moved around the corner to see Aramis' black stallion tied up and looking irritable. Boucher was stood close by and was raising a pistol towards the horse.

'STOP!' Renard shouted and tore the pistol away from Boucher as the men hesitated at the shout. 'What do you think you are doing?!'

'I...heard...the Duke,' Boucher stammered under Renard's glare. 'He said...to...to shoot the horse.'

'The Duke's not here,' Renard growled as Boucher started to cower under his glare. 'I'm not shooting a magnificent animal like this.' Renard moved to try and calm the horse but Fidget kept pulling on the rope before Renard finally managed to calm him. The horse clearly wasn't comfortable but Renard knew the horse would come round.

'That horse could lead any rescue party to us,' Boucher tried to get some confidence in voice but failed.

'They would have find this place first and the likelihood of that is low,' Renard responded. 'As much as it is a magnificent horse...it is only a horse. Feed it and brush with it with the others.' Renard left and made his way back into the shack.


The Musketeers organised all of the nobles who were taking part in the hunt and then they were waiting for the King. Athos was trying to put his worry aside as he realised that the regiment could do with a good showing today. Louis had become increasingly irritable with his regiment and Rochefort had certainly taken advantage as he made every error clear and slighted the regiment at every opportunity.

Athos, Porthos and D'Artagnan rode next to their King while Rochefort kept close by. The other noblemen were clearly enjoying their experience but Louis seemed rather bored. This was mainly because he hadn't managed to successfully hunt much and he was becoming frustrated.

Louis looked around. He knew there was something different about the situation and he'd finally realised what it was.

'Athos?' he called.

'Yes, Your Majesty,' Athos pulled his horse alongside the King's.

'Where is Aramis?' Louis asked. He realised their relatively low haul was because his best marksman was missing. Aramis was always the 'winner' when it came to the hunt.

'He is currently on a mission,' Athos replied.

'Well what idiot sent my best marksman away before a hunt?!' Louis exclaimed loudly with his irritation showing. Porthos and D'Artagnan exchanged looks and did their best not to smile. Athos chose not to look behind him at his brothers.

'That would be me, sire,' Rochefort's voice drifted over.

'Really Rochefort!' Louis looked to the man with irritation. 'You send my best marksman away on a task when I have a hunt! No wonder we're struggling. Where did you send him? It better have been important.' Louis waited looking sternly at Rochefort waiting for the man's reply.

'Forgive me, Majesty,' Rochefort bowed his head in deference. 'He is delivering a letter but I now see that he could have done so after the hunt. It was my mistake as I hadn't thought that he would miss the hunt when I gave him the letter.' Rochefort hated grovelling and the fact he was having to do it in the presence of the musketeers made it even more unbearable.

The musketeers shared annoyed looks at Rochefort's statement. They all new that Rochefort knew that Aramis would miss the hunt and they all suspected he had done it on purpose.

'Well Rochefort, I am disappointed,' Louis said haughtily. 'How am I supposed to show off my best men when the best marksman isn't here? In future make sure that you consider the upcoming events in my schedule before sending a musketeer to deliver a letter.' Louis kicked his horse forward as the Inseparables did their best not to openly laugh at the annoyance that was clear on Rochefort's face.

Rochefort fell behind after Louis' tirade but he also knew that Aramis would no longer be a problem if Renard and the Duke kept their word.


Aramis slept some more as he finally found his headache easing. His mind was starting to become clearer but he was still aware that while the concussion was easing, it was still there. He looked around the cell again but couldn't see anything that could help him. The light coming through the window was still bright suggesting that it was still afternoon. He took a swig of water from the water-skin next to him. He could see his manacles were held firmly in the stone behind him and there was no way he would be able to pull himself free.

He leant back against the cold wall and closed his eyes. Soon his brothers would know he was missing but could they find him? Aramis smiled as he thought that they would do everything in their power to find him as he would for them.

The door was unlocked and Aramis opened his eyes to see Renard enter and Aramis felt a shiver go down his spine at the way the man was smiling at him.

'Well it seems that you're looking better but we'll do what I originally planned tomorrow,' Renard's smile was full of evil intent. 'Today we'll start softly.'

He clicked his fingers and two men that Aramis didn't recognise were suddenly upon him. The manacles were released and although Aramis knew his reactions were slowed he managed to stun them by grabbing the man on his right and throwing him into the man on his left. The men staggered and fell into Renard who cursed loudly as Aramis fled through the open door.

He had no idea where he was going but headed for a set of stairs which confirmed his suspicions of being underground. He was almost at the top when he recognised the other man that escaped them on the road to Fortier's estate. Beside him stood Simon who was frozen in place and was looking shocked to see Aramis. Boucher grabbed Aramis stopping the marksman in his tracks. Aramis knew his concussion had slowed his reactions and he was unable to release himself from Boucher's grasp.

Boucher brought Aramis close to his face and said quietly, 'There's no way out musketeer,' before pushing Aramis making the musketeer lose his balance and tumble down the stairs. Aramis felt his body being bashed on every step and when he came to a stop at the bottom he realised that he had been winded badly. His arms and legs ached along with his torso. Even with a foggy head he managed to determine that he hadn't broken anything but a few more steps and he would have been in a much worse situation.

Aramis lay mainly on his left side as he tried to catch his breath. He looked up to see Boucher standing over him, the man having made a far less eventful decent of the stairs.

'Nice try musketeer,' Boucher sneered at Aramis at his feet.

'Well done Boucher,' Renard's voice rang through the small corridor. 'I thought his concussion would make him less of a challenge. Clearly I was wrong,' Renard's foot came out of nowhere and kicked Aramis onto his back. 'I love your spirit musketeer. Let's play.'

Aramis groaned as the men that had released his manacles returned and dragged him to his feet. He tried to struggle but they were keeping a firm grip on him.

'Get his coat off,' Renard demanded as Aramis did his best to struggle Renard watched on amused at Aramis' attempts to fight back. It was clear that had Aramis been at full strength that he would have been quite a problem for them. This only made Renard smile more as he thought of ways to break him.

Once Aramis' leather coat was off Renard held a set of shackles out before him. 'I suppose you won't be a good boy and hold your hands out willingly?' Renard cocked his head to the side as he spoke giving Aramis a patronising look.

Aramis started to struggle even more and the two men holding him couldn't hold his arms still. Boucher appeared and helped the man on Aramis' left wrist hold him still. Renard approached slowly to increase suspense but Aramis could see that what little energy he had left was failing him and he wouldn't be able to stop his hands being bound.

Renard slipped the shackle onto Aramis' left wrist and closed it with a loud 'thunk'. Boucher quickly turned to Aramis right wrist and Aramis could feel the fight leaving him. Renard slid the second shackle onto the marksman's wrist and Aramis was held by the shoulders by the two men. Aramis was suddenly aware that he was breathing heavily from his exertions and his heart was pounding wildly.

'Now we're going to have some fun,' Renard smiled evilly. 'Well, I am anyway.'

Aramis became aware that the hook he had noticed earlier was being lowered and found himself being moved towards it. He did his best to struggle but he had used most of his energy in trying to escape. His arms were moved above his head and the chain between the shackles was attached to the hook. Aramis felt himself be lifted and stretched but was grateful that the balls of his feet could still reach the floor.

'Take his boots,' Renard ordered and Aramis did his best to kick but quite frankly his attempts were more like a fish flapping on land. There was no real power behind them. Aramis could feel the cold floor beneath his feet once his boots and socks were removed. His body was stretched and he knew that soon he would be agony from this alone. Renard's expression suggested he had other ideas.

'Round one,' Renard breathed into Aramis' ear and Aramis felt a sudden shiver of fear run through him.


The hunt came to an abrupt end as light rain started to fall and King Louis decided that he was bored and wanted to be warm and dry. The Musketeers rallied everyone and managed to get all the nobles taking part back to the palace. Once everyone was safe the Musketeers all returned to the garrison.

On the way back Athos, Porthos and D'Artagnan shared some glances and the meaning was obvious. They all hoped that Aramis was back already and that their worry had been misplaced. It was perhaps early for him to have returned but now he was the only thing on their minds.

The Musketeers entered the garrison and the Inseparables looked directly towards their usual table but they were disappointed to see that Aramis was not there. Jacques came to take their horses and Athos decided to ask the most pressing question on his mind.

'Has Aramis returned?' he asked the stable boy hoping to keep his voice clear of worry.

'Afraid not monsieur,' Jacques replied and turned to leave with the horses.

'It's early yet,' Porthos placed one of his large hands on Athos' shoulder.

'Yeah. I thought the hunt would go on much longer,' D'Artagnan agreed.

The men turned to face each other but it was clear that they needed Aramis to return as quickly as possible.


Renard stepped away from Aramis and took something from the man behind him. He turned to face the musketeer and Aramis could see a slightly flexible cane in his hand.

'Cut the shirt,' Renard ordered and Aramis' shirt was torn from him, exposing his bare chest and back.

'That was my best shirt,' Aramis did his best to whine indignantly from his position. Renard smiled back at Aramis' ability to joke like that.

'I would offer to buy you a new one...but you won't need it,' Renard responded but was shocked to see Aramis smile back at the threat.

Aramis could already feel the damp and the cold of the cell and with his chest and feet exposed he was starting to shiver slightly which was pulling on his shoulders and his hands were already feeling numb.

'I think he's cold gentlemen,' Renard announced with glee. 'Maybe we should warm him up a little.' Before Aramis could register what was happening Renard whipped the cane at his chest and Aramis felt the pliable wood snap across him. He managed to bite down the moan of pain that had nearly escaped him.

Renard gave Aramis a sickening smile as he moved around the strung up marksman so Aramis couldn't see him. He picked his moment and hit Aramis across the small of his back and again Aramis bit down his groan. Aramis' lack of reaction amused Renard as he moved into Aramis vision again.

Aramis looked down to his chest and could see the red mark starting to emerge He realised that his skin was stinging from the blow and Renard's eyes told him that there would be more to come.

Renard hit Aramis again lower this time just above the waistband of his breeches. Aramis wondered if those would be removed as well. His shoulders were starting to ache from his position as Renard started to increase the frequency on the hits. Renard hit the sore skin on his back and chest again and again and again and Aramis finally let out a moan.

'Finally,' Renard's voice was full of glee as he grabbed Aramis chin and stared into his eyes. 'I was sure that you had lost that lovely voice of yours. Can't have that can we?'

Renard aimed another blow at Aramis knees which caused Aramis to groan loudly as his knees buckled causing his shoulders to pull at his restraints. Renard continued to attack Aramis' chest and back but he tempered the blows slightly as he watched Aramis' eyes become hazy. Aramis registered the red of his chest but the skin hadn't been broken. It was angry and red and stinging profusely and Aramis could feel that his back was the same.

Aramis was struggling to keep his head up and the headache of his concussion wasn't helping. Renard looked at Aramis and indicated to two men just outside of the cell to release Aramis. Aramis crumpled to floor with most of his weight hitting his left shoulder and hip that were already sore from falling down the stairs. He gasped at the sudden pain from hitting the hard, cold floor of the cell and was powerless to resist when the shackles were removed and he was moved over to the straw bed. The manacles attached to the wall were fitted again and Aramis could feel the chill of the cell on his body.

Renard waved the men away and crouched before Aramis and studied him. Aramis managed to stare resolutely back and for a fleeting moment thought he saw a flicker of fear in Renard's eyes.

'I have some good news and bad news for you,' Renard grinned evilly. 'The good news is that I'm bored so you can rest easy for the night. Can't have you too badly hurt for tomorrow, can we?' Renard's tone was patronising and Aramis wished he had the strength to strangle the man. 'The bad news is that do to you pathetic escape attempt I have had to shoot your horse.'

Renard left smirking at his triumph as Aramis' grief for his beloved Fidget couldn't be hidden. He loved his horse and they had been through much together. Knowing that he had caused Fidget's life to end was the most depressing fact of all and Aramis couldn't help but curl up as tears for his friend ran down his cheeks. He shivered in the dark and damp cell but the physical pain was nowhere near as bad as the emotional pain.


'So are we killing the horse then?' Boucher asked as Renard came into the make-shift kitchen.

'No, you dolt,' Renard couldn't believe how stupid the man could be.

'But you said-'

'I said that to hurt him!' Renard exclaimed. 'He doesn't know his horse is alive but it will cause him pain to think it's dead!'

'Oh,' Boucher nodded as Renard shook his head at the man's stupidity.

'Simon. What are you doing?' he asked as Simon held a tray with broth and cheese on it.

'Feeding the prisoner,' Simon replied.

'And the coat?' Renard nodded to Simon's arm where Aramis' doublet was draped.

'He won't last long if he's cold and without food,' Simon replied. 'You want to drag this out as much as I think you do then you have to give him something to keep him going.' Renard nodded reluctantly. It wasn't time to starve him, yet.

Simon moved towards the cell where Aramis was being held and the man on guard unlocked the door as Simon approached. Simon looked in to see Aramis curled up as tightly as he could, either for warmth or grieving the loss of his horse. The musketeer's body was bright red but the skin had not been torn. Aramis eyes looked up and saw Simon approaching.

Aramis watched warily as Simon placed the tray before him and helped him sit up.

'Why are you helping me?' Aramis asked with clear confusion but Simon did not answer. Instead he draped Aramis' leather doublet around the marksman and offered him the steaming broth.

'Can you hold it?' Simon asked as he gently placed the mug in Aramis' hands. Satisfied that Aramis could feed himself Simon moved to leave but Aramis grabbed his arm.

'Why?'

'Because a man like you could never kill a child,' Simon wrested his arm back and left leaving Aramis in a very confused state.


A/N: This was my first attempt at the 'whump' side of things and if anyone has any tips I would be grateful for them. I do have other ideas for the next chapters as well I'm just trying to judge how dark I can make it within the limit of the T rating. My mind can get a bit carried away!