Authors Note: There's been so much love for this and I'm overwhelmed. Thank you to those of you who took the time to review, it is most appreciated. I'm still working out how to upload new chapters so sorry for any mistakes. Also if anything seems out of place call me out on it. I'd LOVE to hear your input.

Disclaimer: I don't own The Musketeers, though I WISH I could create characters as beautiful as these.
I do have some O.C. in this chapter however, and they are mine. :)

Chapter 1

"I believe we shall reach Paris before noon tomorrow my friend." Aramis grinned while patting his steeds neck.
The Sun was disappearing quickly behind the horizon and Aramis knew that he would need to find a suitable place to spend the last night of his two month mission.
"Just a few more miles. I remember seeing a stream not far from here. We'll rest there for the night." Aramis's horse nickered in acknowledgement. Aramis removed his feathered hat and used it to block the remainder of the bright sun.

About an hour of sunlight left. Lets hope that stream isn't that far or we'll be traveling in the dark.

Not fifteen minutes later Aramis could hear the sound of trickling water as it traveled down stream.
"See told you as much," Aramis boasted to his uninterested horse, whose only response was a slight twitch of his left ear and a soft nicker."
"No need to be rude, I found you some fresh water did I not?"
As he spoke, the Musketeer gently climbed down from his saddle, as he had been riding for several days so was very sore, and led his horse by the reigns off the path towards the sound of fresh water. As they neared the promise of clean refreshment Aramis spotted some apple trees. Fresh water AND apples?! This is turning out to be a lovely evening...

Hours Later...

Aramis rose from his spot by the fire and walked over to the pile of fallen branches and logs he had collected. The sun was fully set now and the autumn weather made for a very chilly evening. He chose several logs big enough to keep the fire going for most of the night. Tossing them into the embers, sparks shot out and made the night turn a bit brighter. A soft grunt from his horse reminded Aramis of the apples he had found earlier.
"I almost forgot," he slapped his forehead dramatically, "I have something for you my friend."
He pulled out a reddish green apple from the satchel on his saddle and walked over to where the horse was grazing lazily. He lifted his head however when Aramis got closer. "I probably shouldn't, but you've been working hard these past months, I think you've earned a little treat.
Holding out his hand the horse sniffed it briefly then greedily snatched it out of his palm.

Aramis returned to his place by the fire and began to settle in for the night. He took off his hat and placed it over his face as he lay his head on the leather saddle. Exhausted from his almost complete and emotionally taxing journey, he was quietly snoring within minutes.

The moon was high in the sky , it's luminescent glow lighting up the sleeping forest. Embers from the dying fire glowed as Aramis woke from his sleep. He didn't know how he knew, only that something was wrong, and over the years Aramis had learned never to ignore that instinct. For it had saved not only his life in the past, but also those of his comrades. Without moving Aramis tried to listen for what had woken him.
There was a silent movement coming from near his head. Keeping as still as possible he got a tight grip of the dagger that was always on his person for occasions such as this. He rose silently from his horizontal position. The intruder had his back to Aramis and never saw him coming. With one fluid movement Aramis's blade was pressed against the mans throat. "Who, may I ask, are you? And what do you think you're doing?" Aramis asked with an amused but dangerous tone.
The man remained silent and still, even as the dagger drew blood on his exposed neck.

Suddenly Aramis felt something hard pressed to the back of his head, and the unmistakable sound of a musket hammer being drawn back.
"I suggest you drop the knife before someone gets hurt." stated a gruff sounding new arrival.
Sighing lightly Aramis realized there was no point in arguing, so he lowered his dagger and released his hold on the first intruder.
"Drop the knife and turn around," continued the second man. Releasing his hold on the blade, Aramis slowly turned his back with hands raised.

A moment passed where nobody spoke. The only sound came from the chirping of crickets and the crackling of the dying fire.
"Well, what now gentlemen?" Aramis asked, slightly annoyed at the whole situation. "I take it from the way you were digging in my bags you're not highway robbers. So what are you? Just thieves looking to make a little extra to fill your purse? No, that's not it. You handle yourselves to well for that, soldiers perhaps? Yeah that makes more sense. But what would Spanish soldiers be doing this close to Paris? There isn't a Spanish encampment around here, the closest one is a week away. It does make a man wonder." Both men looked at one another trying to decide who was going to break silence. The first man spoke in a slight accent "We know who you are Musketeer, and where you are coming from." as he spoke he took Aramis' hands and roughly bound them behind his back. "What we don't know, is what you learned on your mission." Aramis was slightly taken aback. This only confirmed what Aramis had discovered in his time in Spain. There was a traitor, but how had he gotten the information of a Musketeers mission. I sent word back to Paris that I was to return soon, maybe he somehow got a hold of the letter? Either way Aramis needed to get out of this situation and fast.

He studied his surroundings for a brief moment. The intruders, who Aramis guessed were Spanish soldiers, were quietly discussing what their next move should be. Aramis' pistols lay next to where he was sleeping but there was no way he could accurately shoot someone with his hands tied behind him. His horse was grazing only a few paces from him, but climbing bareback on a horse was painful enough, never mind with out the use of hands. There was really only one option, try and talk himself out of this, as he had done so many other times before. Although somehow, this time it felt like it wasn't going to work out in his favor.

"So," the second man spoke, "I don't suppose you could just tell us where the letter is and be done with it?"
Aramis gave him an incredulous look.
"Yeah I didn't think so. You know eventually you will talk, everyone does in the end."
"You may as well kill me now. You won't get a thing out of me."

"We'd rather not kill you, but that doesn't mean we won't hurt you to get what we need."
The Musketeer remained silent but held a determined look in his eyes. The second man nodded at the first with remorse clear on his face. This surprised Aramis, but not as much as the searing pain of a musket ball entering his upper left thigh. Aramis shouted out in pain as he fell to the ground hitting his head on a tree trunk with a thud. The world turned fuzzy and faded till it finally went black, and the Musketeer knew no more.

There it is Part 2. I've been writing this story for over a year in an old notebook that I take with me everywhere, and I'm not done writing it out in there yet. I do have a clear outline of what is going on so hopefully no writers block for me, but we all know it's bound to happen sooner or later. Any way, I hope you enjoyed this second chapter, any input is greatly appreciated.