Evening My Lovelies :)

We're back with the whumpage today :) Though I will admit I'm not too sure about this chapter. I liked the idea before I wrote it but now... I don't know. Hopefully you'll all like it... I like Ortiz in it at least :D He's definitely getting a bit more sadistic now.

Also we've hit the 10k view point so whoop whoop! *happy dances* When you add that to the 150+ reviews and the 50 followers and everything it equals one very please author so thank you guys! x

Notes On Reviews:

Deana: Thanks for the review - Yeah Aramis is kinda suffering in silence at the moment... though he will be getting some help in tomorrow's chapter. Enjoy the new chapter! x

pain in the mikta: Thanks for the review - I wouldn't really say he's an ally... he's a bit too terrified of Ortiz to do anything that would be classed as standing against him, but he's not as heartless as the rest. I'm glad you think so, thanks :) Enjoy the new chapter! x

Debbie (Guest): Thanks for the review - Hmmm he's not really a friend of sorts. Its more they were friends when it was deemed acceptable for children to imagine lives outside of the village ... saving damsels in distress and battling monsters that sort of thing but when they passed that age he kinda fell into the viewpoint of the rest of the villagers in terms of D'Artagnan and his dreams of being a musketeer. He's also quite scared of Ortiz so I doubt he'll be doing anything too obvious. Though he'll show up at least once more. Glad you liked the banter :) Enjoy the new chapter! x

Tidia: Thanks for the review - The man is quite terrified of Ortiz which is stopping him from doing much despite hating everything thats going on. Not that that's an excuse. He's definitely feeling guilt though which i suppose is something. Enjoy the new chapter! x

Violet Eternity (Guest): Thanks for the review - But of course :) Glad you're enjoying it. Enjoy the new chapter! x

Helensg: Thanks for the review - We've got some whumpage today :) With regards to the rescue/escape... It's coming but will be a couple of chapters till we get there but we're almost there. Glad you liked the chapter and all the banter, I had a lot of fun writing it. Enjoy the new chapter! x

Issai: Thanks for the review (You're number 150!) - Gotta love reviews that start with Oh Gods :D Porthos is a bit more worried about Aramis then he lets on but the medic is hiding his pain fairly well. The people of the village are genuinely scared and are being manipulated but some are quite bad... The whole village could take on Ortiz and his men to remove them from the village if they really, truly wanted him gone. The chance for escape/rescue is coming up in a few chapters time so hopefully that'll answer some questions. Enjoy the new chapter! x

A reader (Guest): Thanks for the review - You're too sweet thank you that totally made my day :D Enjoy the new chapter! x

Lilac Lavender: Thanks for the review - Athos could certainly do with some love and care right about now... though in all fairness they all could do with some. I realized I hadn't fed D'Art in like forever so needed to get him something soon or he'd just be unconscious the whole time and wheres the fun in that :D As for the jealousy idea... I could definitely see that as a reason for him to hate D'Art. Probably wasn't the only reason it would make sense... D'Art refused to bend to the ideals of the village and instead focused on his own dream and goals. Hopefully you'll like today's chapter as we're back with whumpage. Enjoy the new chapter! x

romirola: Thanks for the review - You're welcome :) Enjoy the new chapter! x

As always many thanks to you lovely people who follow/favourite/review/read

Enjoy!

xxx

Chapter Seventeen: Testing The Bonds Of Brotherhood - Porthos

Sleep had not come easily to the two less injured musketeers, they spent a great deal of the night watching over their wounded brother, trying not to cringe or cry whenever his sleeping body would move the tiniest bit the wrong way and send shockwaves of pain barreling through his body.

The whimpers and harsh breaths coming from the injured swordsman were enough to motivate the two to work even harder to escape their prison.

They reasoned by this point Treville must be, at the very least, suspicious as to what had befallen them having been gone for some time without a word. They were praying that their Captain's almost physic-like powers of just knowing when his men were in trouble would spur the man on to send a rescue party to them.

But another part of them wanted their beloved Captain no-where near the village. As soon as D'Artagnan had told them that Treville was one of the targets of whatever plan Ortiz had in the works the three remaining musketeers had begun to fear for their boss. The rational part of their minds argued that the man was Captain for a reason, that he could easily hold his own and wouldn't go down without a serious fight, especially if his men had been injured in the process. But the part of them that simply saw him as their friend disagreed, stating that he would be on Ortiz's turf, giving him the advantage and that Ortiz had an unknown number of men helping him.

…Overall they were between a rock and a hard place. They couldn't have Treville coming to their rescue without seriously risking the man's life but they also doubted they could break out of their prison and make it back to Paris on their own… Especially given D'Artagnan's and Athos's conditions.

As soon as it was light enough in their cell Porthos returned to his task of trying to pick the locks of his chains… The only problem being that he had to twist his wrists in odd angles to reach the locks and it was causing him a fair bit of pain, not that he would ever complain about it, not after what his brother's had endured.

His attention was pulled by yet another pained whimper from Athos, the musketeer was still blessedly asleep but it appeared that even sleep held no respite from the pain for his old friend

"How's 'e doin' 'Mis?" he asked hesitantly, not sure if he could actually handle hearing another of his brothers were in dire straights.

Sighing Aramis ran a hand through the sleeping swordsman's hair, "He's running a slight fever" the medic mused, blinking twice in realization before letting out a snort, "And I'm actually hoping its just because of the stress his body's undergone" he explained, shaking his head, only to cancel the action quickly when it left him a little lightheaded.

Porthos was about to comment of the Spaniard's paler features when the all too familiar sound of footsteps echoed down the hall.

Hearing what could only be Ortiz coming to torture them more Porthos shifted his grip on the dagger, readying himself to attack the second an opportunity arose.

"Put it away!" hissed Aramis, slightly panicked. When Porthos looked at him like he was crazy he sighed and quickly whispered, "You have one shot with that" he said, nodding at the dagger, "You miss, we're dead. You fail to kill him, we're dead"

"Then I'll kill him," growled Porthos, glaring at the still locked door,

"Then the guards decide we're not worth keeping alive and D'Art's the first one they murder" spat Aramis, hating that he had to allow the man to live when he wanted nothing more than to shoot the scumbag through the heart with his beloved pistol or musket.

Sighing Porthos admitted defeat and accepted that Aramis was right. In his current condition he would most likely miss if he threw it and to stab him with it Ortiz would have to be fairly close to him. Growling in frustration the brawler quickly stashed the dagger into his boot, not a second later the door finally unlocked and Ortiz sauntered in…

"Still with us boy?" Sneered Ortiz as he and his guards entered the cell. Though he couldn't help but let a satisfied smirk grace his features when he noted the flinch D'Artagnan couldn't quite contain at his voice.

"Hanging in there" retorted the sickly Gascon sarcastically, jangling his chains ever so slightly as he spoke for emphasis.

Ortiz laughed at the young man's attempt to appear strong. "Good to know" he stated, "Our guest will be much relieved"

D'Artagnan froze at Ortiz's words; quickly ignoring the pain in his numerous injuries to try and see which of his brother's Ortiz had dragged in with him. Guilt flaring within him as he prayed it not to be Athos once again, for it to be one of his other brothers… He didn't know if he had the strength to watch that again.

His eyes immediately locked onto those of Porthos who stood defiantly between the two guards holding him, the gag around his mouth and the bloody nose he was sporting told the injured Gascon that his friend had put up quite the fight.

As soon as Porthos noticed D'Artagnan the urge to once again murder Ortiz with the dagger now safely concealed within his boot rose to the surface. In fact it was only the sharp point of one of the guards blades pressed firmly against his side that stopped him from attempting it.

As such he was prevented from even moving as Ortiz moved to the pulley system that was keeping D'Artagnan's chains tight and most likely the boy upright.

Without warning Ortiz released the pulley, the chains instantly going slack and sending D'Artagnan crumbling to the ground in a scream of pain.

"D'ARTAGNAN!" Porthos screamed, or as best he could, given the disgusting cloth that had been tied around his mouth.

"Now then" mocked Ortiz as he pressed his heel into D'Artagnan's broken hand, relishing in the agonizing screams the action drew from the young man. "Are you FINALLY going to tell me where my documents or do we get the pleasure of reenacting one of our greatest hits with your friend over there?" he asked, nodding his head over to where Porthos was looking stricken and sick.

The meaning of Ortiz's words was not lost on the larger musketeer. Athos's wounds, the cuts and burns that mutilated his back… that had been done to his little brother… their youngest… the one they had all taken a silent vow to protect because he attracted trouble like the strongest magnet. The thought of D'Artagnan… of any of his brothers bearing such wounds turned Porthos's stomach.

But he quickly pushed such thoughts aside, Ortiz was using him against his brother, just like he did Athos and he would be damned if he let himself be the one that caused D'Artagnan to finally break.

Whimpering slightly when the pressure on his hand returned due to his delay in responding D'Artagnan sent his brother a sad look, though his eyes were slightly hidden behind his sweaty hair D'Artagnan could see Porthos shaking his head, silently telling him not to say a word about the location of the stolen documents.

Gathering up what tiny shreds of his courage and stubbornness remained the battered Gascon glared up at Ortiz, spitting in his face as he growled "Never"

"So uncouth you Frenchmen are" remarked Ortiz, lifting his foot from D'Artagnan's hand as he wiped away the glob of spit. "But have it your way" turning to the guards he added, "Untie him" gesturing to Porthos, who had yet to turn away from D'Artagnan, pride burning in his eyes at the young man's continued defiance. "He'll need his hands"

D'Artagnan was about to ask why when Porthos, now ungagged and untied, launched himself at Ortiz, determined to get at least one good punch in before the guards stopped him. Much to his pleasure he managed two strong blows to the Spaniard, one to the stomach – knocking the wind out of him, and the other to his face. The musketeer barely having a moment to truly savor the sound of Ortiz's nose breaking before he was hauled off and pinned to the ground by the two guards.

The action caused Porthos to shout out in pain as he felt one of his other damaged ribs crack due to the force at which the guards threw him to the floor.

"PORTHOS!" D'Artagnan cried weakly as he tried to move to his brother's side but found that even breathing hurt too much at the moment so he could do nothing but lay in the crumpled heap he had fallen in.

"You're nothing but a coward!" roared Porthos from his pinned spot on the floor once he had gathered his breath back, as he glared daggers at the Spaniard, "Hiding behind your men? Why don't you fight me like a real man?"

Ortiz laughed, slightly unnerving the two musketeers as he did so. Kneeing down beside the pinned musketeer Ortiz dragged a dagger down Porthos's cheek, hard enough to draw blood but unlikely deep enough to scar, "Because you French mutt" spat the Spaniard before nodding to one of the guards who then left the room, "I simply don't need to." With that Ortiz slashed the dagger down Porthos's forearm – pulling a grunt of pain from the still glaring musketeer.

After he had finished speaking Ortiz and the last remaining guard exited the room and that was the only sign Porthos needed before the larger musketeer was scrambling over to his brother's side.

"Shit whelp," breathed Porthos as he inspected the young man for any new damage.

Ignoring Porthos's questions regarding his health D'Artagnan quickly grabbed his brother's hand with his own undamaged one, pain and guilt warring for dominance in his eyes as he asked, "…'Thos?"

Porthos's heart broke at how lost and broken his brother sounded, placing one hand on the less bruised side of his brother's face and lightly squeezing the one holding his own he answered honestly, knowing it would do the boy little good to lie to him now, "In bad shape when I left… 'Mis is looking after him best 'e can though" he reassured, the words sounding hollow even to him.

D'Artagnan sagged against his brother, glad that his mentor still lived but feeling deeply troubled and guilty for the pain his actions had caused. He was about to say something else when a faint growl caught his attention.

Porthos saw the fear enter D'Artagnan's eyes at the growl and instinctively moved to better shield the young boy from the coming threat.

"You do remember Lucifer don't you D'Artagnan?" mocked Ortiz as he walked back into the room with a behemoth of a dog.

Porthos instantly realized that this must have been the dog that had bitten his brother. Slowly moving his aching body into a defensive stance Porthos was thankful that his specialty in the regiment was hand-to-hand combat.

"He's not eaten in a few days so the smell of blood might make him a bit… wild" stated Ortiz before smirking and releasing the dog off of its leash.

Lucifer recognized the one of the blood scents in the air as being the thing he had been allowed to hunt not all that long ago and so honed his focus on the person the scent belonged to.

Porthos longed to ignore the beast that was growling menacingly before them and just attack Ortiz, but to do so would leave D'Artagnan defenseless against the animal, something Porthos refused to allows while there was still breath in his body. Though it did annoy him to know end to see Ortiz smirking knowingly at him from the other side of the room, clearly having come to the same realization as he had.

"Come on then beastie," taunted the musketeer, glaring at the dog as it made another threatening growl at the pair of them.

With no warning sign Lucifer leapt at the musketeer, his claws catching the side of his arm as Porthos twisted to get out of its way.

Porthos didn't know whether to count himself lucky that the dog's focus on D'Artagnan had shifted to him when he continued to make determined efforts to stop him. This meant that his brother was safer as the behemoth beast was no longer actively targeting him. But it also put him in a more dangerous situation as the dog seemed to grow more crazed with every attack, making it harder for the musketeer, who was still suffering the results of Ortiz's assault on him several days prior as well as the newly damaged rib and arm, to escape or dodge unscathed.

His injuries from that assault meant that one side was weaker than the other and whilst he tried to compensate for that it seemed the dog's predatory nature made him aware of that fact so the beast had a tendency to go for that area.

Several long minutes into the fight and Porthos had to acknowledge that the dog had the perseverance that was lacking in some human recruits the musketeer had seen over the years. Because of that the musketeer was now sporting several gashes from the dog's claws – and he hated to think of the rant that was going to send their already tense medic into.

Unfortunately for the musketeer, Ortiz didn't seem to appreciate seeing someone beating the beast and had maneuvered around the edge of the room while Porthos's attention was distracted and swiftly pressed his heel into D'Artagnan's dislocated shoulder, having been caught unawares due to his failing focus being on Porthos, D'Artagnan let out a bloodcurdling scream at the pain that ignited from the abused joint.

Porthos, distracted by D'Artagnan's scream of pain, missed the dog's latest attack at him, barely managing to raise his arm in time to protect his face. Unfortunately this gave Lucifer the chance to latch on to the musketeer's wrist, biting down hard and thrashing his head from side to side until a sickening crack pierced the air, followed quickly by a shout of pain from the musketeer.

Despite the pain now in his wrist Porthos brought his knee up to the dog's chest, thankful that it seemed to be enough to dislodge the dog's grip on his now useless hand.

"P'thos!" cried D'Artagnan weakly as he fought against the pain in his own body to reach his brother, who was now glaring at the dog with murderous eyes.

"You have the power to end this Charles," reminded Ortiz as he knelt down low enough to whisper in D'Artagnan's ear, "All you have to do is agree to tell me where you've hidden my documents."

Watching helplessly as Porthos fought against his own pain to defend him against the dog that seemed to be completely focused on Porthos.

Feeling the pain of his own injuries, the lack of proper restful sleep as well as a severe lack of food and water had left D'Artagnan with barely any energy to spare and that what he did have was quickly being drained by the growing fever he felt assaulting his body.

"…m'dead anyway" mumbled D'Artagnan, an empty feeling in his stomach as he finally vocalized the thought that had come to him when he first noticed the fever taking hold of him. He was quite happy though that Porthos's attention was on Lucifer and not him at present, as he doubted his brother would take to kindly to his seemingly defeated words. "I wont let… you take… hundreds of… lives as well"

"Not even to save you brothers from the same fate?"

Sighing D'Artagnan blinked wearily, knowing he should probably be concerned by how hard it was to stay awake and lucid but at this point he really didn't care. "We've… had this conver'ation befor'"

Before Ortiz could reply back they were interrupted by a loud crash. Both Spaniard and musketeer twisted to see the cause and were greeted by the site of Porthos lying on his back as he tried to keep the dog's snapping jaws away from his face.

"Looks like you're about to be one brother short Charles," mused Ortiz happily, though it quickly faded when he saw a small, weak but knowing smile appear of D'Artagnan's battered face.

"…P'thos will win" D'Artagnan declared, his voice weak but his conviction clear

"Oh" mocked Ortiz, "How do you know that?"

D'Artagnan merely turned his bruised face to look at him and said, "He's P'thos" with the same knowing grin he had on his face earlier

Unknown to them Porthos had heard D'Artagnan's faith in him and despite the burning pain in his broken ribs that was making it very difficult to breathe as well as the inferno that was his broken wrist the musketeer was determined not to lose to a dog… even if the dog was the largest and possible the most crazed he'd ever seen.

Part of his mind was screaming at him to use the dagger still safely nestled in his boot but he knew the second he did that they would lose their only advantage and their only way out of this hell that wasn't rescue or death. So despite feeling the tip of the blade against his heel he refused to pull it, choosing instead to rely on his fists.

Bracing himself against the pure agony this next move would cause him he quickly moved his good hand off of the dog's face where it had been trying to prevent him from reaching him. Instantly feeling the agony of having the dog's weight on his broken wrist Porthos curled his good hand into a fist and, having placed all his strength behind it, swung a hook punch straight at the dog's jaw, the punch actually having enough power to completely knock the dog off him.

"Call 'im off Ortiz" growled Porthos as he held the dog down on the ground. Allowing his gaze to flicker to the Spaniard he felt his anger and guilt rise when he saw how close he had unknowingly allowed the Spaniard to get to his brother.

Sighing Ortiz realized his dog had lost, though he would be lying to say he wasn't pleased by the damage the beast had been able to cause the large man who was now a mess of scratches and gashes as well as sporting a severely damaged wrist. It had taken him a second to noticed but it appeared that his beast had managed to get in quite a few scratches on the man's chest and they were fairly deep if the blood spots on the man's shirt were anything to go by.

After shouting a command in Spanish the dog was quick to calm and it wasn't long before a guard came and dragged it out of the room.

As soon as the immediate threat of the dog had passed all the adrenaline that Porthos seemed to be running off of quickly disappeared and the musketeer quickly fell to one knee, cradling his damaged wrist in one hand, his eyes closed in pain and his breaths forcefully deep as he tried to breathe past the burning pain in his ribs.

"Two down, one to go" smirked Ortiz before striding over to where Porthos still knelt unaware of anything but the pain in his body. The Spaniard was quick to take advantage of the musketeer's distracted state and whipped the butt of his pistol against the musketeer's head, knocking him out and sending him crumbling to the floor in an instant as his little brother watched on helplessly in horror.