Evening My Lovelies

Merry Christmas everyone! I hope you've all had an amazing day, as is now almost a tradition for me here is the first chapter of my newest story :) I'll be uploading weekly on a Saturday and I'm hoping you'll all enjoy what I've got in store for our boys this time around :D

Disclaimer: As always I don't own the Musketeer's the only thing I own are my OC's

Enjoy!

xxx

Chapter One: An Impossible To Decline Offer

"Use me," Those two simple words echoed throughout his mind as he leaned against the bars of his cell. Every part of him desperately wanted to trust in the man who had said them to him… to trust in himself that he hadn't, once again, been fooled by someone so close to him but the doubt simply wouldn't let him be… far too much had happened for it all to be a coincidence.

"...'Thos?" called a small, quiet voice that tugged the brooding musketeer out of his ever-darkening mindset as worry for the speaker forced its way to the forefront of his focus.

"...I'm here Porthos," he answered equally as quiet as he edged his aching body towards the bars that separated him from his ailing friend, the darkness that surrounded them obscuring much of the man's true condition from him, even as the clanking of his own restraints echoed throughout the shadows.

Having heard the worry in his brother's voice, even in just those three simple words, the larger musketeer fought against his body to edge himself closer to his own set of bars, unashamedly craving the comfort of his brothers in his current state.

"Stop," growled Athos when he realized what his brother was doing, "You need to rest, focus on yourself, and don't waste your energy needlessly," he scolded, once again cursing the situations that had led to their current predicament and the fact that they had been forced to act with urgency and without much preparation meaning neither he nor Aramis had been able to force the sick musketeer to remain behind, a matter he considered a personal failure given that their current conditions had rapidly exacerbated his brother's condition and turned, what they all assumed to be a minor cold, into someone far more deadly and serious.

Huffing quietly to himself before deciding to ignore his brother's order Porthos used what little strength still remained in his body to force himself close to the bars before his body gave up and he was forced to remain where he was… "…Any word on 'Mis?" he asked quietly, the worry and hope in his voice paining Athos as the swordsman was reminded of yet another failure on his part as he had been unable to stop their captors from dragging the marksman away from them shortly after their first escape attempt, which had, unfortunately, led to the shackle now adorned on his ankle.

Unable to admit to his sick friend that their brother still remained lost to them, endure god knows what at the hands of their captor Athos turned his head away from Porthos's direction, despite neither man being able to see each other in the darkness that surrounded them.

"I could change that for you if you want," crooned a voice from the shadows which immediately had Athos on high alert as he instinctively moved as quickly as he could to stand protectively in front of his the bars that led to his sick brother's cell.

However all his actions seemed to do was to garner a chuckle from the mysterious voice before said speaker lit a candle and stepped closer to the small cell. "Easy Athos," he smirked, clearly amused by the man's reaction to him knowing his name. "Your friend has nothing to fear from me, not now at least," he added with a dark grin that was man infinitely more sinister by the gleam of the candlelight.

"How do you know my name?" snarled the swordsman as he attempted to take a step towards the man, only to be stopped by the shackle around his ankle.

At this question the mysterious man's smirk only grew as he remained silent for a moment, infuriating the musketeer before nodding towards the cell containing Porthos, "Your friend's not doing so good is he…" Athos refused to answer, choosing instead to glare daggers at the figure.

Unaffected by the glares being sent his way the figure kept his smirk on his face. "I could see him receive the treatment he needs to live if you like…"

Athos bristled at the offer even as inwardly he longed to accept it, "Touch him and lose the hand," he spat venomously as he instinctively shifted closer to his brother's cell, the lack of response from the ill man telling him that the stress of his illness, coupled with trying to move had caused the larger musketeer to pass out, at least that's what he was praying had happened to his beloved brother.

Outrightly laughing at him was not the response Athos had expected following his threat and he couldn't stop himself from once again glaring daggers at the man before him as he waited for the mocking laughter to stop.

"How about I let dear sweet Aramis treat him instead?" he offered with complete seriousness despite the obvious amusement in his candlelit eyes.

Now that had Athos pausing as he narrowed his eyes at the man before him, trying to figure out what exactly he was offering and why he was offering it. "At what cost?" he growled out as he fought the desire to accept whatever was about to be asked of him if it meant that not only would Aramis return to them but that Porthos would receive the treatment he so desperately needed. "I very much doubt you offer this out of the goodness of your heart."

Once again the figure chuckled, apparently finding Athos's responses highly amusing but thankfully for the musketeer's patience he didn't continue laughing for long before his expression turned deadly serious once more.

"Of course not," he agreed with a shrug, "After all I doubt you believe I even have a heart to do things out of the goodness of in the first place," he continued reaching into his jacket to pull out a ring of keys, "You'd have to earn it… So what do you say musketeer?" he asked teasingly as he jangled the keys, "You in?"