A little note before this story begins: upon popular demand (lol), I'm cooking up a wrap-up chapter for the "Torture/Isolation" storyline, but will probably not post it here in Whumptober, but in Snacks or Beginnings. I must agree, reading it all back, it begs for the following recovery/closure process. I have an exciting idea about it, so look for it... sometime in 2022?

And now - look at me trying to plot again.

Athos thought it strange when, in mid-morning, he lightly climbed the stairs to Tréville's office, knocked, and found the room empty. He glanced at the neatly-made bed behind the wrought-iron screen, and took in the small tray on the desk containing the captain's untouched breakfast. Frowning, he took a few steps into the room.

"Captain?"

There was no reply. Athos approached the window and looked down. There his friends were, at the bench at the foot of the stairs where he'd left them. Musketeers went to and fro in the courtyard, some already sparring, some doing their morning exercise. The captain was nowhere to be seen.

Athos turned and climbed the steps down.

"Has anyone seen Tréville?"

"Not this morning," Aramis shrugged, "He's not in his office?"

Athos shook his head. Porthos and Aramis exchanged a look. Athos, hand on the hilt of his sword, strode across the courtyard towards the stables. "Jacques!"

The stableboy came out in a rush, looking around to see who was calling him. He sobered when he saw it was the lieutenant.

"Yes, Monsieur?"

"Has the Captain rode out this morning?"

"No, Monsieur, his horse is in."

"You have not seen him?" Athos pressed. Jacques shook his head definitively. Athos strode back to the table at the foot of the stairs, where Porthos and Aramis had risen to their feet, waiting.

"He's not here," Athos told them. An unsettling feeling was beginning to take root in his stomach. He gazed across the courtyard as if to find a clue as to the Captain's whereabouts; when it proved fruitless, he turned on his heel and marched towards the garrison gate, Aramis and Porthos in tow.

"He could have left on foot, if he has errands to run," Aramis offered, trying to placate Athos without really understanding why. Porthos hummed his agreement.

"'e might 'ave wanted to stretch 'is legs. Why the worry?"

Athos walked up to the lone guard beneath the gate without a reply.

"Pinchon," he nodded at the Musketeer, "Have you seen Captain Tréville this morning?"

"No," the man returned, "But my shift's began not half an hour ago. If the Captain's left earlier, you'd have to ask Vidal. He was on duty before me."

Athos' lips pressed into a thin line.

"I'll see to it," Porthos said, and took off to find the Musketeer Vidal.

"You do know the Captain might just emerge from the kitchen or the armory any moment and we'll feel really stupid," Aramis remarked lightly, putting his hand on his hips, but he was studying Athos keenly.

"I'll take stupid and relieved over not knowing where he is and being right," Athos murmured distractedly.

"Right about what?"

Athos's eyes were troubled when he finally looked at him. "Something feels wrong. He's asked me to meet him in the office after breakfast to review some application letters. He's not in his office. His breakfast is untouched. Even if something's come up, he wouldn't take off without leaving word."

Before Aramis could think of a suitable reply to this, they saw Porthos duck his head to emerge from the refectory and approach them in fast, broad strides.

"Vidal's not seen 'im either," he confided in them, frowning deeply as the three of them stood in a close circle. "But that's only 'alf of it. Duval an' Berger were on night duty at the gate. Neither of 'em remember seein' the Captain last night."

"Should they have?" Aramis asked, his eyes narrowing.

"They should," Athos affirmed gravely. The feeling in his stomach had just gained a lot of substance. "He should have returned from his meeting with the Cardinal in the evening. Either Duval or Berger should have seen him."

"Wait - what are we saying? That he hasn't returned to the garrison last night?"

Athos nodded. There was a moment of silence as the three men looked at each other, communicating silently, then Porthos gave a sharp nod.

"Righ'. I'm takin' some men with me and startin' lookin'."

"Take d'Artagnan," Athos approved with a nod, "I have a feeling he'll be useful. Go to the palace; try to learn what time Tréville parted from the Cardinal yesterday. I don't want Richlieu hearing anything about this if we can help it."

"Got it."

"Report back as soon as you have something."

As Porthos left to fulfill his task, Athos turned to Aramis.

"Ask around the garrison personnel, but do it quietly? We don't want to unsettle the men needlessly. If Tréville does emerge from behind a column or a wall, I'd prefer not to become known as the worrying lieutenant."

"You?" Aramis smiled at the dry humor, "Quite unlikely. What will you do?"

Athos pressed his lips as he turned his eyes to the Captain's balcony. It seemed strangely deserted, and Athos found it disturbing. Aramis watched the subtle shift in his friend's expression as Athos's eyes hardened, changing from concerned to focused.

"Keep up appearances," he replied determinedly. "Meet me in Tréville's office later." He clapped Aramis's shoulder lightly as the marksman left with a nod, and Athos, shoulders straight and no sign of trouble on his face, walked up to the Captain's office once again.

It was less than an hour later when the four friends reconvened in the yard, and Athos listened to the others' reports with a heavy heart. They'd found no trace of the captain anywhere. He had left the Cardinal's maison in a carriage around ten last night, and that was the last anyone had seen of him. Somewhere between the Palais-Cardinal and the garrison, Tréville had disappeared.

"Righ'. What're we doin'?" Porthos asked, flexing his fists. Before Athos could open his mouth to reply, someone called out loudly from across the courtyard. The Musketeer Boutin was striding towards them from the gate, a piece of paper in his hand and a grin on his face. He handed the message to Athos.

"A boy just delivered this for you."

"What are you smiling about?" Aramis asked him curiously. Athos was already focused on reading the letter. Boutin shrugged, his grin widening.

"Just at the boy talking about our lieutenant here as if he were his best friend - or favorite older brother." He was still chuckling as he saluted the three men and returned to his post. Athos, in the meantime, had finished scanning the latter. He raised grim eyes to his friends.

"What?"

"Tréville has been kidnapped. And this," he held up the paper between in his hand, "is a list of demands."

These prompts are just blending into each other at this point. The next one will probably be 'hostage'. Thanks for reading, as ever. :)