Porthos settled back into a sitting position against the wall, eyes on d'Artagnan as the younger man stared across at him, confused. 'She was one of us. The first immortal Athos found. They had both been alone for so long that Milady had given up. She didn't know what to do. Finding Athos gave them both purpose again.' Porthos looked to Athos but found that the man had encased himself in shadows by the wall. He knew he could still hear him, however, so continued speaking. 'For all those years it was just her and Athos running through the world together, fighting wars and battles…' he snorted lightly, shaking his head, 'she was like a pit viper in a fight. They relied on each other.'

Aramis looked up now, eyes dark. 'They were in England, around two hundred years ago. They were freeing so called heretics from the witch trials.' He scoffed and looked down, before looking back up at d'Artagnan, eyes narrowed. 'Soon they too were captured and accused of witchcraft themselves. They were tortured extensively, then hanged. When they awoke it just proved their case against them. They were kept in a dungeon, chained together, for months. Their captors tried to break their resolve but couldn't do it. Soon they realised that, together, they were too powerful, they…' Aramis sighed before continuing. 'They separated them, but in front of Athos they executed their plan for Milady. Women were always treated worse, still are now,' he said tersely.
'They sat her on a chair at first, wrapped a rope around her neck as tight as it would go using some sort of contraption. She died the first time, scrabbling at the rope, eyes only on Athos as he fought to get to her, to save her. As she awoke she couldn't breathe as the rope was so tight. She died again. And again. Over and over she awoke only to die, scrabbling at the rope to allow her a modicum of air.' Aramis looked over to Athos, his heart filling with sadness as he saw the moonlight shining on his friend's glassy eyes.

'They buried her deep underground in an upright coffin, like an iron maiden. It was big enough for her feet not to touch the bottom as she was thrown in, just to make sure their plan would work. Then the hole was covered.'

'After Athos escaped we spent decades searching for Milady. The grave had been covered over, perhaps even built over, so we couldn't find her. We found guards and people who Athos recognised as being there when they were captured , but they either wouldn't or couldn't tell us where she was buried.' Porthos continued, voice low. 'Athos has lived with the guilt ever since.'

At these words, Athos appeared in the doorway, face pale as he looked at the scene in front of him. D'Artagnan turned in his bed to face him, a frown clouding his features as he took in Porthos' words. 'Why do you blame yourself?'

Athos took a few moments to gather himself. 'I lost a soldier.' He eventually replied, voice stoic.

D'Artagnan sat back, taking a deep breath. 'I feel her anger. Her rage. She feels…insane.'

'All those years, buried alive, hanging for eternity,' Porthos breathed, looking up at to Athos. '…that would make anyone insane.'

'That's why we dread capture.' Aramis added simply, shaking his head.

Marsac, who had been listening intently to the others, looked up sharply as d'Artagnan moved off the bed, a hard look on his face. He strode past Athos and grabbed his coat as he made his way to the door, slamming it behind him.

Athos looked over to the others, who didn't move. They looked back at him, unsure of what to do. Pushing himself away from the doorframe Athos turned and followed the younger man outside. He was so preoccupied with spotting d'Artagnan in the darkness that he didn't notice the group of men creeping around the side of the church, guns and blades drawn as they approached the house, silent as the night.

He found him by some graves a little way from the safe house, reading the inscriptions carefully. 'D'Artagnan.' He called, voice low.

At this, d'Artagnan turned and looked at him, eyes dark as he shook his head. 'I don't want this.' He started, eyes seemingly both scared and fearless at the same time as Athos approached. 'I don't want any of it. I want to go home.'

'I know, just come back inside, I-'

'When you first found me I thought that, despite everything, it would be alright… but there isn't one good bit about any of this! Nothing!'

Athos inwardly sighed, and moved a step closer. He had fought this man, knew what he could be like if he felt cornered. 'I know this is hard, lad.' He said quietly, 'but this is happening whether you like it or not. I know you're scared, so was I when it happened to me.' He pointed back towards the house without looking, his eyes only on d'Artagnan. 'Me and those three men in there will keep you safe, I promise.'

D'Artagnan snorted lightly and resisted the urge to shake his head. 'Like Milady?'

'We're all you've got now.' Athos ignored the barb. Seconds later, a cacophony of gunfire sounded around them- Athos surged forwards and pulled d'Artagnan down, drawing his own gun as he looked back up at the house.

'What's happening?' D'Artagnan breathed as he and Athos moved silently forwards.

Athos looked up, at the shadows cast across the stonework of the church by the moon as more men moved into the house. 'They've found us.'