The cell door was locked and the man was gone. Aramis immediately pushed himself up onto his knees. He felt like he had been ripped in two and was in a lot of pain from his face and his ribs but he wasn’t going to just lie there with his breeches pulled down.
“Aramis....” Porthos whispered, every single emotion he was experiencing came through in his voice just from saying one word. Aramis looked over at him. He had never seen Porthos looking so shaken. Porthos had tears streaming down his cheeks.
Aramis shook his head. “Don’t, please.....don’t say anything,” he said, knowing that he would break too if Porthos spoke. Aramis tried to control his shaking hands enough to pull up his breeches. He somehow managed it as he knelt onto the stone floor. He was too uncomfortable to sit down on his arse again. He turned his head the other way to glance at Athos. Athos wasn’t looking at him, he was staring down at the ground. Aramis knew why. Athos was never going to forgive himself for what just happened. Aramis wanted to reach out to comfort Athos, he wanted to comfort Porthos too but he couldn’t reach either of them. Silence hung over the three of them for a while. Porthos was crying quietly, Athos was withdrawing into himself and Aramis was just.....trapped. Aramis looked up at the ceiling again. He still couldn’t see the stars.
There was a noise. It made Aramis twist and look behind himself at the metal bars. Was the man back? Was he going to rape someone else? His heart almost stopped when another figure suddenly appeared with white teeth beaming in the dim light. D’Artagnan!
“Miss me?” The young man asked. He had the keys in his hands and he was unlocking the cell. They all suddenly came back to life and held out their wrists eagerly as he went around unlocking them all.
“I’ve got five other musketeers with me,” d’Artagnan explained as they all rubbed their wrists and slowly tried to stand. Aramis noticed Athos watching him carefully as he got to his feet. Aramis wobbled and had to steady himself against the wall. D’Artagnan immediately reached out to steady him.
“Hey, alright, take it easy. You’ve been tied out for a couple of days.”
Aramis looked at d’Artagnan with an expression that d’Artagnan had never seen before.
“Where is the guard?” Aramis asked. D’Artagnan thought for a moment, trying to wonder who he meant.
“Well there were two outside and they’re both dead. The guy I found in the room down the hallway, well I sliced him up but I think he’s still alive. Probably lying there I guess.”
Before d’Artagnan knew what was happening, Aramis had grabbed the hilt of his sword and pulled it out of its scabbard. He shoved past d’Artagnan and marched off. D’Artagnan opened his mouth to protest as his sword being stolen but Athos was suddenly there, putting a hand on his arm.
“Let him,” Athos said and d’Artagnan wondered what was going on.
Aramis stormed out of the cell and marched down the hallway. He felt dizzy walking again after having to sit and kneel for such a long time. He was covered in dried blood, scratches and bruises, but none of that stopped him from finding that guard. He eventually did find him slumped to the floor and, leaning up against the wall. He had a wound across his chest which was making blood soak his shirt but he was still alive. He looked up at Aramis with a smile when he saw the musketeer.
“Little lark. You managed to get yourself free. Are you going to fly away now?”
Aramis nodded, finding himself unable to speak. He felt so angry that he couldn’t even form words. He reached out with the sword and placed it against the man’s neck. He wanted to see if the man was able to fight back but he wasn’t, he obviously couldn’t even move his arms. So, very slowly, he started pushing in, little by little. He could see fear in the man’s eyes. At first it was mixed with shock and then it was pain. Aramis kept on pushing gradually until the man was coughing and then choking up blood. Eventually he was gasping, searching for air but only swallowing more blood.
“Aramis!” d’Artagnan’s shocked voice came from behind.
Aramis ignored it as he stared at the man he was killing slowly. He pushed the sword in a little more and the man started to wheeze loudly, unable to breath probably with the sword in his throat. More blood came out of his mouth and then his nose and his body started jerking. Eventually the body stopped moving and the man’s head dropped down to the side. Aramis felt......satisfied. He pulled the sword out and wiped the blood off on his own trousers. He turned, seeing for the first time that Porthos and Athos were holding d’Artagnan back. He held the sword back to d’Artagnan who took it, eyeing Aramis up and down.
“Thank you,” Aramis said. He had needed to do that more than d’Artagnan would probably ever know. But the others knew. Porthos reached out and gently took hold of Aramis’ arm.
FILL: Aramis non-con, with others forced to watch 3/3
“Aramis....” Porthos whispered, every single emotion he was experiencing came through in his voice just from saying one word. Aramis looked over at him. He had never seen Porthos looking so shaken. Porthos had tears streaming down his cheeks.
Aramis shook his head. “Don’t, please.....don’t say anything,” he said, knowing that he would break too if Porthos spoke. Aramis tried to control his shaking hands enough to pull up his breeches. He somehow managed it as he knelt onto the stone floor. He was too uncomfortable to sit down on his arse again. He turned his head the other way to glance at Athos. Athos wasn’t looking at him, he was staring down at the ground. Aramis knew why. Athos was never going to forgive himself for what just happened. Aramis wanted to reach out to comfort Athos, he wanted to comfort Porthos too but he couldn’t reach either of them.
Silence hung over the three of them for a while. Porthos was crying quietly, Athos was withdrawing into himself and Aramis was just.....trapped. Aramis looked up at the ceiling again. He still couldn’t see the stars.
There was a noise. It made Aramis twist and look behind himself at the metal bars. Was the man back? Was he going to rape someone else? His heart almost stopped when another figure suddenly appeared with white teeth beaming in the dim light. D’Artagnan!
“Miss me?” The young man asked. He had the keys in his hands and he was unlocking the cell. They all suddenly came back to life and held out their wrists eagerly as he went around unlocking them all.
“I’ve got five other musketeers with me,” d’Artagnan explained as they all rubbed their wrists and slowly tried to stand. Aramis noticed Athos watching him carefully as he got to his feet. Aramis wobbled and had to steady himself against the wall. D’Artagnan immediately reached out to steady him.
“Hey, alright, take it easy. You’ve been tied out for a couple of days.”
Aramis looked at d’Artagnan with an expression that d’Artagnan had never seen before.
“Where is the guard?” Aramis asked. D’Artagnan thought for a moment, trying to wonder who he meant.
“Well there were two outside and they’re both dead. The guy I found in the room down the hallway, well I sliced him up but I think he’s still alive. Probably lying there I guess.”
Before d’Artagnan knew what was happening, Aramis had grabbed the hilt of his sword and pulled it out of its scabbard. He shoved past d’Artagnan and marched off. D’Artagnan opened his mouth to protest as his sword being stolen but Athos was suddenly there, putting a hand on his arm.
“Let him,” Athos said and d’Artagnan wondered what was going on.
Aramis stormed out of the cell and marched down the hallway. He felt dizzy walking again after having to sit and kneel for such a long time. He was covered in dried blood, scratches and bruises, but none of that stopped him from finding that guard. He eventually did find him slumped to the floor and, leaning up against the wall. He had a wound across his chest which was making blood soak his shirt but he was still alive. He looked up at Aramis with a smile when he saw the musketeer.
“Little lark. You managed to get yourself free. Are you going to fly away now?”
Aramis nodded, finding himself unable to speak. He felt so angry that he couldn’t even form words. He reached out with the sword and placed it against the man’s neck. He wanted to see if the man was able to fight back but he wasn’t, he obviously couldn’t even move his arms. So, very slowly, he started pushing in, little by little. He could see fear in the man’s eyes. At first it was mixed with shock and then it was pain. Aramis kept on pushing gradually until the man was coughing and then choking up blood. Eventually he was gasping, searching for air but only swallowing more blood.
“Aramis!” d’Artagnan’s shocked voice came from behind.
Aramis ignored it as he stared at the man he was killing slowly. He pushed the sword in a little more and the man started to wheeze loudly, unable to breath probably with the sword in his throat. More blood came out of his mouth and then his nose and his body started jerking. Eventually the body stopped moving and the man’s head dropped down to the side. Aramis felt......satisfied. He pulled the sword out and wiped the blood off on his own trousers. He turned, seeing for the first time that Porthos and Athos were holding d’Artagnan back. He held the sword back to d’Artagnan who took it, eyeing Aramis up and down.
“Thank you,” Aramis said. He had needed to do that more than d’Artagnan would probably ever know. But the others knew. Porthos reached out and gently took hold of Aramis’ arm.
“Hey, let’s go and find those stars.”