First of all, I posted this first chapter and neglected to put in my intro. Then, I had it as the Epilogue instead of the Prologue. Yeah, it was definitely a Monday today.

So, anyway...I got such a warm welcome into this fandom with my first story, I just had to write another one! Plus, I love this show so much! There really isn't muh more to say, other than, I guess technically, Vadim could be considered d'Artagnan's first mission, but I didn't see that as a mission mission, so...it's my story and if I want to say this is his first mission, I can! LOL! I think that's all for right now, other than the disclaimer:

I do not own any of the characters that you recognize from the show. There, that's done.

Chapter 1

Prologue

He thought that he shouldn't be surprised, not really. He hadn't been in Paris for very long, just a few months, and though he had been made a recruit at the musketeer garrison, he wasn't yet a musketeer. He'd been training with the musketeers, spending most of his time with Athos, Porthos and Aramis, but after training day was done, he was mostly left to his own devices, except for the times when he was invited out with the three. The other days, which numbered three times as many of those where he was invited, he would trudge to his lodgings, sit alone at the table to eat whatever meal Constance put before him and then he would lock himself in his room to wallow in his loneliness. He felt a closeness to the three they called the Inseparables, but though they were friendly and took an interest in his training, they didn't seem to hold him in as high regard as he held them. He had a feeling that it may be his self-perceived failure with Vadim that made them keep their distance, but it may also be that they were perfectly happy with just the three of them and did not need, nor desire a fourth member of their close knit group. So no, he shouldn't be surprised that he had been abandoned and left to the mercies of the men who held him now, d'Artagnan thought, but despite his assumptions about his importance to the Inseparables, he WAS surprised, dammit! Surprised and hurt and so damned miserable that he had to fight with all he had to contain the sobs that fought to break free from him.

His body ached mercilessly from the regular beatings he'd been receiving and he was sure there were broken ribs that could at any time during the next beating puncture a lung. He was positive that his shoulder had come out of its socket, and a bit scared since the overwhelming pain had turned to a frightening feeling of numbness running from his shoulder to his fingertips. His stomach was hollow from days with no food, his mouth dry and lips cracked from no water, but it was his heart that hurt with the most ferocity. He had thought that the musketeers left no man behind, but here he was, alone with his torturers while his comrades were who knows where. True, he wasn't one of the Inseparables, but he was a musketeer recruit and he thought that should be enough to warrant a rescue. He'd heard the mantra "All for one, and one for all" and assumed it meant recruits as well as commissioned musketeers. Well, he was holding up his end. Forget that he didn't know the whereabouts of the damned letter…he was not made privy to any information…the fact that he had not said a single word in response to any of his captors questions was enough, he believed, and even if he did know where the letter was, his captors would be sorely disappointed because he'd rather die than to dishonor his friends. So yes, he had the one for all part down and he thought it was high time the all for one part came into play. He didn't know how much longer he could hold on after all. No food, no water, no real sleep, because he didn't count unconsciousness as sleep…and regular beatings that left him reeling and in agony, were draining his body, and his spirit, so much so that he had caught himself at times wishing that he would not wake up once his broken body succumbed to unconsciousness once again.

It was his stubbornness, and a small shred of hope for rescue that lingered even when his mind had him convinced he meant nothing to the musketeers, that kept him hanging on. He would prove to them, all of them, that he was worthy and that he deserved a place in the regiment. It was all he had left, this desire to be a musketeer, and he would not allow these men, these criminals, to take that away from him. He sucked in a shaky, painful breath and lifted his head when he heard the sounds of his tormenters approaching. He would meet their eyes and he would smile. He would welcome their questions and their fists, and whatever else they chose to use on him, because in the end, it would make him stronger. It would make the others see him as an equal, not a burden, someone they could trust and count on when needed, and maybe, just maybe, one day, if he survived his ordeal, they would call him brother.

TBC

So, that's it for now. Thanks to those who have already reviewed my pre-edited chapter. I can't promise quick updates, but I do promise I will try as hard as I can to post as quickly as my busy life allows. Take care and thanks for reading!

Cindy