A/N: I'm back! I am so sorry for the delay with this chapter! I have been crazy busy at work and really haven't had the time to write anything. And then when I finally did get some time I came down with strep throat for like a week. But I am healthy and have just a tiny bit more free time on my hands to give you guys another chapter! It's a pretty long one too! I hope you guys love it and I appreciate any and all feedback you can provide!

FIVE

They waited another hour before setting out to look for their youngest and to Athos, it was the longest hour of his life. Knowing D'Artagnan was out there, needing their help probably, was driving him mad. But he knew Porthos was right, they needed to give the boy a chance to make his way to them. If they left now they may miss him and spend even more time trying to locate each other when they could be returning to Paris. It didn't make the waiting any easier though and he knew his companions shared his opinion on the matter.

Porthos took to pacing almost immediately after Athos returned without the young Gascon, occasionally kicking at the piles of hay or a door if it was in his way. Athos tried three times to calm Porthos down before giving up and letting him blow off his nervous energy while they waited. Sitting around wasn't something any of them did well.

Even Aramis, wounded as he was, couldn't keep still. He took to cleaning his weapons and organizing his medical kit with an almost terrifying intensity. Athos knew if the Gascon was hurt, they would need his kit to be prepped and ready. Even though Aramis should be resting once again Athos stopped trying to make him after three failed attempts. His brothers were coping however they could and he wouldn't begrudge them their methods.

Unfortunately, his method of coping – drowning himself in wine – wasn't a viable option at the moment. So he settled for fidgeting, something he rarely did, and watching the woods outside without pause. He knew D'Artagnan could handle himself in a fair fight but nothing about their encounters with these bandits so far was fair. The boy was a strong swordsman and he knew his way around a musket but he was still young, still relying more on his heart than was safe. Athos only prayed they would reach him before any permanent damage was done to him not only physically but emotionally as well. If he was in the hands of their enemies right now Athos did not doubt the methods the men would use to try and get information out of their youngest. The thought of their hot headed Gascon beaten and tortured set his blood boiling and he could easily understand Porthos' lashing out.

D'Artagnan quickly wormed his way into all of their hearts when he first showed up in Paris and ever since then their love and respect for him only grew. Along with their protectiveness. He was their little brother and may God have mercy on anyone who hurt him.

"Athos, it's been too long. He's not coming," Aramis' voice was pitched low, anger evident in the tone. He was already moving, a fierce determination glowing in his eyes. It seemed his brother's mind was wandering the same path as his own.

He nodded and glanced to Porthos, who was saddling the horses and checking over his own weapons. Feeling Athos' eyes on him the larger man glanced toward him "Pup's gone and gotten 'imself into trouble again."

Athos nodded with a small sigh, trying to stave off the anger boiling just beneath the surface. Whoever had their brother was going to regret ever taking him away from them before they were done.

"Whoever took him is going to find themselves in trouble," Aramis strode passed Athos, loading his medical supplies back into his saddlebags and swinging into his saddle. He was keeping his right arm close to his chest but Athos knew he wouldn't let anything get in the way of rescuing their youngest.

Athos nodded and moved to his own horse, "All for one."

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The next time D'Artagnan woke he was sprawled on a freezing stone floor inside a dimly lit cell. There was a single torch flickering in the far corner next to a large wooden door. A small, barred window was set high in the wall to his left. It was dark outside. He suspected it was late into the night, hours since he parted with his brothers. He wondered if they were looking for him already or if they were heading to Paris to deliver their missive before coming for him. He wouldn't blame them if they completed the mission first, the King must always take priority, but the selfish side of him wished they would choose to rescue him before completing the mission.

He rolled slowly into a seated position, managing to bite back a low groan as his wounds were pulled. That was when he realized he wasn't completely unbound. There was a manacle clamped tightly over his right ankle, chafing painfully against his skin. The manacle was connected to chain which was hooked into the wall behind him. There was maybe three feet of slack which gave him just enough movement to reach a chamber pot to his right. Other than that he couldn't go anywhere.

With a soft sigh he slid back until he was resting gingerly against the cool wall. His back was on fire and the cold stones acted as a balm to the torn flesh. He was exhausted even though he knew he had to have been asleep –unconscious –for at least a few hours. It was just after midday when he was taken and he didn't think he'd been conscious for more than a couple of hours after that. Once the beatings started though he lost track of time pretty quickly. It was hard to worry about how long you were being tortured when it was actually happening.

There was the sound of footsteps outside his cell, growing closer with each second. He braced himself, knowing he was about to be subjected to another round of torture more than likely. In that moment, he hoped his brothers continued on to Paris if only to save them from whatever his host had in store for them should they show up to rescue him.

His cell door opened on groaning hinges and Clause was haloed by the flickering light from the corridor beyond. He was flanked by two guards and a third was hanging back just behind him. All of them wore disgustingly satisfied smirks on their faces as they took in his condition. He sat up straighter and levelled the strongest glare he could muster in his current state, "I take it you still haven't located my brothers then? Pity, I could use their company about now and seeing you dead would certainly make this day a little more bearable"

The satisfied look on Claude's face took one a sharper quality as he worked to keep his anger in check, "Jest all you want, boy, I will find them and I can assure you they will be the ones dead on the floor not me."

"Do you really think your men are up to the challenge three fully trained Musketeers pose? I am but one man and I nearly wiped them out. How would they fare against triple that do you think?"

At this Claude's attempts at control vanished and his face morphed and twisted until it hardly looked human anymore, "You think yourself so clever. The men you fought on the road represent a mere tenth of those I have here. They were scouts, nothing more. Your brothers will not make it passed the front gates before they are defeated. You are not going to be rescued Musketeer. If you give up now and at least tell me which of your brothers carries the letters I am looking for I can spare you the same treatment you received yesterday. I may even have my men provide you with food and water."

His stomach grumbled at the thought of food and he was suddenly very aware of how scratchy and dry his throat was. But not even the thought of relieving those needs was enough to make him turn on his brothers. He would die before letting harm befall them. He held Claude's gaze steadily as he responded, "Never. I will die before betraying them to anyone."

Claude sighed, going through another one of the strange mood swings D'Artagnan was starting to recognize, and shook his head sadly, "Very well. Take him."

Two of the guards moved forward and grabbed him roughly by his arms while the other unlocked the manacle on his ankle. He was dragged from the room and while he wanted nothing more than to fight back the moment he was forced into movement his back reignited with fiery pain and it took everything he had to simply remain conscious.

He was brought back into the same room as before and shackles were clamped over his raw wrists once more. He couldn't hold back the small wince when the cold metal was secured and his arms yanked above his head to loop over the hook. It only took a few moments for warm blood to begin sliding down his arms again, the wounds on his wrists from before reopened. It seemed his life was to be one of pain and nothing else while he was held here. Pain he could take though, so long as his brothers were left alone.

"So, child, let us start again. Will you tell me where the letter is?" Claude sounded like he knew the answer as he wrapped the whip around his hand and circled his captive.

"Never," D'Artagnan was proud of how strong his voice came out, no trace of the pain he was feeling leaking through. Athos would have been proud.

Claude let out a long-suffering sigh and let the whip uncurl to its full length, "Pity."

He drew his arm back and lashed out sharply. D'Artagnan very nearly screamed at the unexpected pain over his chest. He knew he would be whipped but he never imagined Claude would attack his chest and not just his back.

If the first lash hurt the second was agonizing. Blood ran from the wounds in thin rivulets and began to dampen the tops of his breeches. He huffed out a short breath, his eyes squeezed shut as he tried to manage the pain radiating from his wounds. How he wished he was back in Paris with Constance and his brothers, away from the torture Claude was intent to rain down on him.

"Where is it?"

He remained silent, leveling an icy glare at his captor and torturer.

Another lash to his chest. He couldn't hold back the low grunt this time, his eyes clenched shut and his breath coming in ragged pants. The whip left a bleeding red mark over one of his broken ribs and the added fiery pain on top of the throbbing of the broken bone was nearly unbearable. His head was spinning now as he struggled to hold off the blackness at the edge of his vision.

"No sleeping yet, Musketeer. There is still much punishment you have yet to endure," Claude sneered, yanking the Gascon's head up by his hair

D'Artagnan held the cold, grey eyes in front of him as he spat in the face they belonged to, "Go to hell."

That earned him more blows than he could count to his already damaged ribs and a few to his surely concussed head. By the end of the onslaught he was gasping for breath and his head hung limply on his chest. His whole body was lax and the weight on his wrists was nearly unbearable but he couldn't find the energy to stand back up. Breathing was becoming more difficult as well, the longer he remained limp, but he didn't think it mattered all that much right then. His chest was throbbing and burning and he was fairly certain at least two more ribs were broken and if he didn't have a concussion before he certainly had one now.

"Hm, I may have gone too far. You truly try my patience, boy. I will leave you here to rethink your answer. You look so comfortable after all," with that Claude strode from the room and slammed the door shut behind him.

D'Artagnan allowed one, long groan to slip passed his lips as his was left in the dimly lit room on his own. He had no doubt there was a guard posted just outside the door but he could care less at this point about being heard. He was in pain and he wasn't sure how much longer he would be able to keep up the strong façade in front of Claude. He wished dearly for his brothers in that moment. More than he wished for water or food.

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Athos, Porthos and Aramis rode hard until they reached the point they were attacked and then they set to trying to find some trace of which direction D'Artagnan went once they split up. Unfortunately the rain was making it difficult to track the Gascon's movements and many times they had to stop and loop back after losing their little brother's trail. From what they could tell though D'Artagnan led the bandits on a wild goose chase through the woods before beginning to loop back around. Athos was proud as they followed his trail to find D'Artagnan didn't take a direct path back toward the road, instead winding around the woods and doubling back a few times to confuse his followers. He was becoming better at losing tails the longer he was with them.

Unfortunately, they could easily see the moment their young Gascon's luck ran out. They were in a small clearing when suddenly there wasn't just one set of hoof prints but six. Five surrounding the sixth. Apparently there were even more bandits than they originally thought lying in wait for the Musketeers. D'Artagnan was a good fighter but even he didn't stand a chance against five opponents alone especially when it appeared he was caught from behind by at least three more.

They were able to pick up the trail all six made from there without too much difficulty. The rain must have let up around this point, the tracks left by the horses more noticeable the further they went. The trail they were following led from the direction they originally came, away from Paris and toward Nice once more. Eventually the trees around them began to thin out and they could just make out the shadow of a structure ahead of them. It had to be late into the night now and they could faintly see the light of torches coming from the building.

They came to a stop before the trees ended and dismounted, tying the horses to a nearby copse of trees and moving forward on foot. There were windows lit up within the structure and as they approached on silent feet Athos could make out a thick wall and sturdy gates surrounding the grand manor. Torches were lit atop the walls and silhouettes moved back and forth in regular patterns. Guards.

"I imagine our young Gascon is in there somewhere," Aramis murmured softly when they were back within the trees.

Athos nodded, his eyes never straying from the imposing structure in front of them, "The only question is, how do we get him out of there?"

"Knock on the front door?" Aramis suggested with a smirk.

Athos threw Aramis a look, "When has that ever worked in our favor?"

"There's a first time for everything. Besides, if they do have D'Artagnan in there they'll be more than happy to have us show up don't you think? We have what they're looking for after all," Aramis reasoned.

"Or they think we do at least," Athos agreed.

Porthos frowned, "What do ya mean?"

Athos shook his head, "Better you don't know the details. The letter has been moved, that's all you need to know. It may keep you safer if things go sideways once we're inside."

"So we are knocking on the door then?" Aramis questioned.

Athos let out a long sigh and nodded, "We don't stand a chance against that many men and they appear to actually be decent guards. We won't be able to just sneak inside without one of them seeing us. At least if we go in willingly we might be able to get a look at the layout of the manor before we need to escape. Besides, I doubt he'll be expecting us to just knock on his door and waltz inside. If we're lucky, he'll believe we don't know D'Artagnan is here."

"And if he's smart, we're all done for but at least we'll die together."

"Always the optimist, 'Mis," Porthos grunted as he clipped his spare pistol to his weapons belt.

Athos and Aramis both armed themselves as well. While they could only assume their weapons would be confiscated rather quickly it would be better to have them inside to be retaken should the need for a violent escape rise.

Once they were all satisfied they were as ready as they could be they approached the manor on foot, believing it safer to leave the horses free for when they needed to get away. It would be easy enough to explain away their absence. It was common for horses to turn up missing after rain storms and never show up again. It would hopefully make them appear less threatening as well.

"Halt!" one of the guards spotted them as they approached, calling out the warning and raising a musket in their direction, "State your business."

Athos raised both hands to shoulder level to show he was unarmed, "Our horses ran off in the storms earlier. We merely seek shelter for a night and perhaps horses if you have any to spare. You will be greatly compensated."

"Who are you?"

"We're King's Musketeers on business for the Crown. We were traveling to Nice when the storms struck and took shelter in an abandoned barn. Our horses disappeared at some point during our break."

There was no response for a moment as another guard joined the first, their bodies silhouetted against the torches as they talked amongst themselves. It was another minute or two before the gates were opened on squealing hinges and another, well-dressed, man stepped forward. He dipped into a low bow and motioned toward the manor behind him, "My master has agreed to let you lodge with us for the night. Horses will be provided in the morning for you as well. You weapons, however, must be handed over before entering the home. You can retrieve them in the morning before you depart. Phillippe will place them in the armory until then."

They approached the gates, Athos dipping his head to the man as they passed. He reluctantly removed his weapons belt and handed it over to a young boy who looked antsy as he bounced from foot to foot, "You have our thanks. What is you master's name, so I may thank him properly for his hospitality?"

"Lord Claude d'Espesse resides here. He overlooks these grounds and several other smaller farms in the area," the man replied in a cool tone. He was older with wispy gray hair pulled into a low ponytail at the nape of his neck and dull grey eyes. Everything about him spoke of sophistication and pride, he was obviously the most trusted of his master's servants. Once all of their weapons were removed he led them toward the front doors with quick, efficient steps.

"We shall have to thank Lord d'Espesse properly then. It is very generous of him to open his home to us."

"Anything for the King's Musketeers. Our Lord is nothing if not loyal to the King," the man led them through a large foyer and down a long corridor that had seen better days before they came across a wide opening leading into a large dining room. A table spanned the length of the opposite wall and in the center a man sat in a tall chair with a goblet and decanter of wine sitting before him. He appeared to be middle aged, in good health and most certainly lethal with the sword at his hip. He practically oozed confidence as well. His jet black hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail at the nape of his neck and his blue eyes were sharp, catching every detail while his face retained a calm façade. Athos had no doubt this man was responsible for their missing fourth and more than likely he already knew exactly who they were and what they were carrying.

He stood as they entered, spreading his arms wide with a smile, "Welcome, Monsieurs. It pleases me I can offer assistance in your hour of need."

"We thank you, Lord d'Espesse. You have indeed been a great help to us tonight," Athos said with a small dip of his head when they came to a stop in front of the table.

d'Espesse waved off Athos' words as he came around to the front of the table, "It is no matter, Monsieurs…?"

"I am Athos, these are my brothers Porthos and Aramis. We are King's Musketeers."

"Musketeers? It is a pleasure to meet you all. Do you require food? I'm afraid the cook has already retired for the night but I'm sure there's some bread and meat in the kitchen I could have the servants bring out for you."

"Thank you, it would be greatly appreciated."

"Of course," d'Espesse looked to the man who led them in, "Henri, have Jaques and Marie bring in some food and wine for our guests and make sure rooms are prepared for them."

The man, Henri, bowed and stepped from the room through a side door.

"Now, how did three King's Musketeers come to be at my humble home on this night?"

Aramis spoke now, stepping forward next to Athos, "We were attacked on the road and when we stopped to recover our horses ran. Unfortunately we could not find them and had to continue on foot until we came across your home here."

"Attacked? By who?!"

"Bandits. More than likely they were trying to take whatever valuables we may have been carrying. I do not believe they realized we were Musketeers until it was too late. We do not carry much in the way of goods and unfortunately we were forced to kill them to get away," Athos stepped in again, easily weaving a tale for the man before him.

"Bandits?! That's awful! I am sorry to hear such a thing," d'Espesse shook his head sadly and sighed, "It is better it was trained Musketeers they set on rather than an untrained farmer. At least you were able to dispatch them and hopefully spare others a worse fate."

"Agreed, Monsieur," Aramis nodded with a small smile.

Porthos had yet to say anything, his eyes constantly darting around the room, taking everything in without drawing too much attention to himself. There weren't any guards in the room with them but the large window to the side showed more of the wall along with at least four more guards on top of the four out front. Who knew how many there actually were patrolling the perimeter and he could faintly hear voices carrying from within the manor. No telling how many men were hidden within the walls around them and they still had no idea where D'Artagnan might be.

Henri returned as Porthos was mulling over these thoughts, two more servants trailing behind him carrying plates piled high with food while Henri brought in another decanter of wine and three more goblets. Everything was placed on the table and d'Espesse motioned for them all to sit as he retook his seat.

The three Musketeers moved to the table and settled into chairs, thanking the two servants and gratefully digging into the meal. None of them drank much though, needing to remain sharp if they were to find their brother.

"So, tell me, what are King's Musketeers doing all the way out here? I thought you lot tended to stay closer to Paris with the King?" d'Espesse's voice sounded nonchalant and lacking any real curiosity but they could all hear the edge underneath his words.

"Unfortunately, we are not at liberty to discuss the King's business," Athos replied smoothly with the appropriate amount of apology in his voice.

"Ah, of course, my apologies. My curiosity got the better of me it seems," d'Espesse smiled easily and tipped his goblet toward them, "Please, enjoy the food. Once you've finished Henri can show you to your rooms. I'm afraid I have other business to attend to before I retire for the evening. Horses will be ready for you in the morning along with enough provisions for your trip home."

"Your generosity will not be forgotten, monsieur. I assure you," Athos dipped his head as their host smiled and exited the room through the same side door Henri used earlier.

Henri was standing to the left of the door, staring straight ahead and barely paying them any attention. Athos doubted he would tell them anything about this place or its guests if asked. No doubt he was more loyal to his Lord than the King and they were disrupting his master's business.

They stayed for a few more minutes, picking at their food more than actually eating. They were all worried about their youngest brother and now, so close to finding him, they couldn't stand being separated from him much longer.

Athos stood first, "Henri, do you mind showing us to our room now? I think we are all exhausted and in need of plenty of rest."

Henri bowed and motioned toward the doors they originally entered through, "This way Monsieurs. The Lord has prepared one of the larger guest chambers for you to stay. You will each have your own bed if you don't mind sharing a single room."

"Of course," the three of them followed Henri from the room and down more corridors until they stopped at another set of double doors.

On the other side three beds were pushed against the right wall and a large wardrobe was placed against the left wall. There was a window across from the doors with a basin and pitcher of water next to it. Another door was set into the wall beside the wardrobe. There were candles lit around the room and a few torches on the walls. It was a fairly pleasant room and had this not been enemy territory Athos imagined they would enjoy it.

"If you require anything there should be a servant nearby at any point. Simply ask and they will fetch whatever you require. The pitcher has water, if you wish to wash your face and there is a loo through that door there," Henri's tone was professional as he motioned around the room, "If you do not need anything else of me, I shall retire for the night."

"We should be fine for now, thank you," Aramis said with a smile, placing his hat on the bed and moving further into the room.

Henri bowed once more and closed the doors as he left.

Once alone, the three Musketeers quickly converged in the middle of the room, settling with Athos on the edge of one bed while Porthos and Aramis settled on the edge of the other. Porthos glanced to Athos, "So what now?"

"Now, we wait until the house is quiet and try to locate D'Artagnan. The quieter we can be the better it will be for us. There's no telling what shape D'Artagnan is in at this point. More than likely he is being kept below in a cell somewhere. Unfortunately there's no telling how many rooms there are beneath us or how hard it is to navigate."

Aramis hummed softly, "There was a stairway on our way here. It goes down below. I think it was only one or two corridors away, shouldn't be too hard to gain access to without drawing attention."

Athos nodded, "I noticed it as well. It's our best bet at this point. Porthos, how many guards have you counted so far?"

"At least eight on the walls. Three I've seen inside. Not sure 'ow many more I didn' see," Porthos ground out, "'e's got a lot of men on 'is side."

"Probably very well paid too, by the looks of things," Aramis commented, "Why would a Lord turn against the King like this?"

"There's no telling. More money, perhaps he thinks the King wronged him at some point. I imagine whatever is in that letter would explain everything," Athos shrugged and raked a hand through his hair, "Once we get D'Artagnan actually escaping will be the difficult part. We'll have to get him passed the gates and to the horses if we stand a chance of surviving this. I can only hope he's well enough to walk on his own or this could become very difficult."

"You mean more difficult? The guards here are not just for show, they do their job well. They will not be easy to slip passed unnoticed," Aramis was leaning back a little now, one hand resting over the injury to his shoulder.

Porthos nodded his agreement, "Their patrols are regular from what I could tell, which wasn' much without proper lighting."

"Unfortunately we don't have much time to observe their actions. I doubt our host plans to let us leave here in the morning as it is. We'll have to go for d'Artagnan first, the armory was out by the stables and it's too risky to go out in the open before we have him. We'd never make it back inside," Athos wasn't overly fond of their current situation but he couldn't see how they could improve it any. This man had their youngest and he refused to leave here without him at their side.

Agreed, they all stood and began snuffing out the torches and candles around the room. They would need to utilize whatever shadows they could and move swiftly through the manor. They had no weapons left between them which meant and confrontations would already have them at a disadvantage. Athos only hoped they could make it to d'Artagnan and then to the armory without meeting any guards or servants along the way. Of course, with their luck he doubted that would be the case.

Their entry into the corridor was simple. Aramis stuck his head out, giving the passageway a quick once over before deigning it clear of any prying eyes. All three of them slipped out of the room and quickly found a nearby alcove to gather in. They moved like this, darting from alcove to alcove and shadow to shadow, until they reached the stairwell leading deeper into the bowels of the manor. Surprisingly, they met no resistance. Athos wasn't sure if that was lucky or not though. For all they knew, this could be a setup by d'Espesse. He had to know they would come for their young friend the first chance they had.

There wasn't much time to dwell on such thoughts though. If this wasn't a trap and they were indeed just this lucky, they needed to keep moving before that luck ran out. So down the stairs they went, knowing there was no avoiding a fight if someone were to spot them now. The stairway was narrow, barely fitting one of them at a time, there would be no slipping passed guards.

Athos took the front, Aramis just behind and Porthos brought up the rear as they traveled down, their steps as silent as they could make them. For the first time, Athos was actually grateful they didn't have their weapons with them. They were much quieter without the clanging of swords and guns at their hips and while he felt naked without them at least for this portion of their escape it was useful.

They came to the bottom of the stairs without issue and at this point, Athos was growing more and more certain this was some sort of trap. He didn't think d'Espesse would keep the stairwell to his dungeon or the main landing completely unguarded. He didn't seem like a stupid man. He glanced back at his brothers and saw the same apprehension he felt mirrored on their faces. Now would be a good time to have our weapons, he thought bitterly.

There was no turning back anymore though so with a deep breath and a foreboding feeling growing in his gut, he led his brothers further into d'Espesse's dungeon.

So? Thoughts? Opinions? I know I left a kind of tiny cliffhanger there at the end but I want the next part to all be one big chapter so…yeah! I feel like it's kinda rushed at the end but I'm also really bad about being really hard on myself so that could just be me. I'm pretty sure I rewrote some of this like four times before deciding I liked it enough to share it with ya'll! Anywho, I hope to have the next chapter posted sometime in the next couple of weeks (I know, not very set but it's the best I can do with my job). I hope you enjoyed!

Until next time,

Tempest