1. Athos

They all ached, the long journey back to Paris taking its toll on them. Athos straightened in his saddle, his back cracking as he tried to rid the stiffness in his muscles. His horse huffed from beneath him and he leant forward slightly, patting the beast on the neck.

"Nearly there," he said, stroking the horse's main before looking across to Aramis, who had pulled his horse back to walk next to him.

"Something doesn't feel right," he mumbled, eyes glancing towards the trees.

They were walking along a path that on one side was trees and the other a steep bank leading to the river below.

"What is it?" Athos then asked, sensing Aramis' discomfort from the tension in the man's shoulders. Athos knew if there was something in the tree then Aramis would see it, the man had the best eyesight out of all four of them after all.

"I don't know, it just seems a little too... Quiet," Aramis said, glancing back at Athos and locking eyes.

He saw the concern in his brother's eyes, the way his jaw was set in tension and the grip on his reins tightening slightly.

Athos glanced behind them and down the path they had just come up.

"We're not carrying anything of value for bandits to attack," Athos said trying to reassure his brother.

"Yet we are the King's musketeers, it wouldn't be the first time we got ambushed just because of the title," Porthos said from behind, riding alongside D'artagnan.

Athos let out a heavy breath, glancing towards the trees and slowly beginning to feel the sense of being watched.

Suddenly a shot rang clear through the air, birds quickly flying out of the trees in fear from the noise.

Athos cried out in pain, the musket ball hitting him in the right shoulder. His horse reared up in fear and Athos, unable to get a good grip on the reins, fell sideways. He landed harsh on the top of the embankment, rolling roughly towards the bottom.

"Athos!" He heard his brothers shout, all climbing down from their horse's to face the oncoming attack.

Athos' head was spinning, nausea rising within him as his body took a beating on the way down.

He came to a harsh stop by slamming stomach first into the rocks at the bottom next to the river. He let out a grunt, the force of the hit knocking the wind out of him. He forced himself onto his back with a huff, his chest rising and falling rapidly as adrenaline pumped through his body.

He blinked up at the sky, white clouds slowly dancing across the blue background.

His vision blurred and he gritted his teeth in pain as his injuries caught up with him. He registered the wetness of his jacket on his right shoulder and also how his ribs protested against the simple act of breathing.

Blood rushed to his ears, making hearing a thing of difficulty as he tried to listen for his brothers. He let out heavy pants, rolling his head to the side to look back up the banking before squeezing his eyes closed, trying to force down the wave of dizziness. He opened his eyes after it had settled and looked up, seeing the evidence of his fall from the disturbed leaves and dirt on the banking.

He let out a groan as the pain from breathing shook his whole body into a wince. He turned his head to rest, looking back up at the sky and trying to blink back the pain.

"Athos!" Aramis shouted from the top of the banking, glancing down at his brother who laid still on his back. His heart hammered in his chest as he quickly spun, lifting his sword up to block an oncoming attack from one of the bandits. He pushed back, letting out a grunt as he swung his sword to cut the man down. He glanced back down at Athos before suddenly Porthos shouted across to him.

"Go!" He said, fighting off two of their attackers. "We'll handle this!" He said and Aramis didn't need to hear anymore before he was skidding onto his back, following after Athos.

He came to a rough stop at the bottom of the banking, stumbling slightly as he pushed up to stand. He then quickly ran over to Athos, skidding down to his knees next to the Captain.

His eyes widen in horror at Athos' state. His clothes were ripped and covered in dirt from the rough fall. His hair was a mess, a few leaves sticking out in odd places. He had dust covering his face and a deep cut running down the side of it, which was the cause of the blood smeared across his cheek and down his neck.

"Athos?" Aramis asked, leaning over to block most of Athos' view.

Athos took his time in registering Aramis, blinking up at him with glassy eyes before he finally focused on his brother.

"Good, you're still alive," Aramis mumbled mostly to himself, letting out a sigh of relief before moving to pull Athos' jacket off.

He tried his hardest not to cause the man anymore pain but it was simply impossible, Athos crying out when he pulled the jacket off his right arm.

The man then grunted as he fell onto his back again, breathing heavily through gritted teeth as he glared up at Aramis.

"Do you want my help or not?" Aramis asked and Athos just looked away, trying to focus his mind on anything but the pain. Aramis then pulled the knife from out his leather boot and cut away at Athos' shirt to reveal the wound in more light.

"This is my... My best shirt, you know," Athos breathed, his eyes fluttering shut as his head pounded against his skull.

"Hey," Aramis said, one hand coming to pat Athos gently on the check to cause his eyes to blink open again. "Keep your eyes on me, okay. Just stare up at my handsome face for me, alright," he said and he was pleased when he saw a small smile crack across Athos' paling face.

Aramis then looked down at the wound, the blood staining Athos' shirt. He slowly felt behind Athos' shoulder and swallowed hard when he didn't find an exit wound.

He swore and Athos raised an eyebrow at him, his tired eyes looking up at Aramis.

"What?" He asked, his breathing heavy as he spoke.

"No exit wound," Aramis bluntly stated. "It means the ball is still i-"

"I know what it means," Athos growled before regretting it, the force of speaking too quickly making him wince. "I think I've... Broken my... My ribs," Athos then breathed, squeezing his eyes shut in pain before resting his head back against the ground.

"One life-threatening injury at a time please, Athos," Aramis said, glancing at the man who blinked his eyes open to stare up past Aramis and at the sky.

Suddenly, the sounds of the fighting above died down and Aramis glanced up at the heavy footsteps, fearful that his brothers had been defeated.

He let out a sigh of relief when he saw Porthos and D'artagnan quickly making their way down the banking, D'artagnan carrying Aramis' bag. The young musketeer stumbled slightly, slipping onto his back with a huff at the bottom of the banking.

Porthos helped him up and the two came running over, both dropping down next to Aramis.

"I need to get the ball out. Porthos hold him down," he then ordered and Porthos did just so, pinning one arm across Athos' chest and another across his upper thighs. Athos winced as he did so, the added pressure on his chest not doing his ribs any favours.

"D'artagnan, get the wine," he said and D'artagnan pulled the bottle of alcohol out from the bag, handing it over to Aramis.

"Drink," he then ordered to Athos, lifting the man's head up for him slightly as Athos' hand came to lazy grab at the bottle. D'artagnan took the bottle back from Athos after a few gulps while Aramis pulled a rag out from his bag.

"This is going to be painful," he said almost apologetic to Athos who just allowed Aramis to put the cloth between his teeth. The captain then squeezed his eyes shut and took in a shaky breath through his nose.

Athos trashed against Porthos hold as Aramis worked at getting the ball free. His cries were muffled by the rag in his mouth but it didn't do much in trying to restrain his cries of pain.

D'artagnan winced, not wanting to watch his brother in pain but not being able to take his eyes away. He leant forward to hold Athos' left arm down that had come up, hand balled up into a fist.

"Easy," D'artagnan said low into Athos' ear, trying to calm the man down.

Aramis suddenly had hold of the ball and pulled it out as slowly as he could to not damage the wound any further.

Athos let out a heavy breath once Aramis finally had the ball free; his head rolling to one side as tiredness began to take him. The adrenaline had slowly drained from his body and he was beginning to feel the true extent of all his injuries.

"Athos?" Aramis then asked as he pouring the alcohol onto the cloth D'artagnan had handed him. Their captain simply groaned, spitting out the rag and turning his head slowly towards his brother.

"What would you say about me being Captain?" He then asked and Athos frowned at him.

"Wha-?" He began to ask but let out a low hiss from the sting of the alcohol.

"I hear it hurts less when you're distracted," Aramis simply said, wiping at the wound with the cloth to stop an infection from occurring.

"Well... whoever told you that... Was wrong," Athos said, still managing to keep a dry tone to his words even in his current state. Aramis shrugged and both Porthos and D'artagnan let out a soft chuckle.

Aramis began to stitch up Athos' wound, his fingers working effortless to provide the cleanest stitch work.

After finishing he ordered D'artagnan to gently lift Athos up. The task proved to be hard, Athos grunting in pain and sending a glare in Aramis' direction. He got help from Porthos in bandaging Athos' shoulder up before lowering the injured man back down to the ground slowly.

"Now, those ribs," Aramis said and Athos frowned up at him in confusion.

With all the pain that was screaming from his shoulder he had completely forgotten about his throbbing ribs. Aramis' delicate hands came to lift Athos' bloody shirt up, studying the bruises that were slowly making themselves known. He gently pressed against Athos' ribs, feeling for any broken bone. Athos gritted his teeth in pain, a hand going to grip Porthos' one by his side.

"None broken, possibly bruised though but you'll be fine," Aramis then said and his brothers let out a sigh of relief, all having been fearing the worst.

"Great," Athos breathed with closed eyes, the sarcasm laced strongly in his voice.

Aramis smirked down at him before standing, moving over to the river to wash his bloodstained hands.

"We'll set up camp for the night," D'artagnan said, standing and stretching his back. "You're in no fit state to be moved yet," he said and Athos simply hummed, keeping his eyes closed and making no effort to protest.

D'artagnan then climbed back up the steep banking to tie their horses up to the trees. Aramis then followed to quickly grab some of their belongings before re-joining his brothers by the river.

Porthos had managed to get a fire started, slowly building up the flames by placing a few more pieces of wood into the centre of it.

Aramis took Athos' bedroll and gently lifted the Captain's head to tuck the bedroll under it to act as a pillow. He then gentle placed a blanket over Athos, who was now fast asleep; too exhausted from the painful ordeal he had just gone through.

"He's going to be alright," Aramis said later on that evening, having seen D'artagnan watching Athos with worry filled eyes.

The younger musketeer glanced up at Aramis, who simply gave him a soft smile.

"Trust me, he's a fighter," Aramis said and D'artagnan nodded, shifting into a move comfortable position against the rocks.

"Cards anyone?" Porthos asked, leaning forward slightly from where he sat and grinned across at D'artagnan.

"No, last time we played I nearly lost all my money to both of you," he grumbled, roughly pulling his blanket further over his shoulders and across his chest.

"You still bitter about that?" Porthos asked and D'artagnan threw him a glare.

"I didn't have enough money to eat for two days," he said and Porthos chuckled at the man's anger.

"You still got food though," he said, reminding D'artagnan of how they had paid for him to eat.

"You cheated," D'artagnan mumbled and Aramis just watched the two, glancing from one to the other across the fire.

"I would never," Porthos said, pretending to act offended by his brothers words by putting a hand to his chest.

"Yes... Yes, you would," Athos' voice mumbled softly from where he laid next to Aramis. He cracked an eye open to give Porthos a look before turning his head slightly to fall back asleep.

"The man's half conscious, he doesn't know what he's saying," Porthos replied and Aramis let out a laugh, tending to the fire in the centre of their small camp.

"This is Athos, even when drunk he still makes more sense than any of us," Aramis said and Porthos simply shrugged, dealing out three sets of cards for them to play late into the evening. Little to say, D'artagnan may not be eating for a while.

So this is my first ever musketeer fanfic and I hope you enjoyed the first chapter as much I did writing it. Next chapter will hopefully be up soon but I'm awful at being organised, so be warned. It'll probable be up in a few days. Anyway, reviews are much appreciated. Thanks for reading :)