“He’s not in good shape, I fear he may need someone more qualified than I,” Aramis gravely told Athos and Porthos as he gently checked d’Artagnan’s broken body. “What happened?” He asked Athos, his forehead creased with worry.
“I’m not completely sure. He was attacked, that much is certain, but by whom I do not know.”
“Where did you find him?”
“In an alley not far from the tavern we were drinking in last night. It looks like his assailants followed him from there. How is he?”
“He has a couple of broken ribs, his arm is broken too but he also has a head injury which is the most concerning as is the blood loss. I’m surprised he’s still alive.”
“He’s strong,” Athos replied. “He’ll survive.”
“Not without a doctor,” Aramis sighed. “I can stitch up the cuts and bind his arm but he needs more help than I can give.”
“I’ll go,” Porthos said, breaking the silence he had kept since he’d arrived. “I’ll be as quick as I can,” he said as he headed towards the door, leaving Athos and Aramis with the unconscious d’Artagnan.
He looked almost peaceful. It would have been a sweet sight had he not been so badly injured. His face was covered in quickly appearing bruises and his hair was matted with the blood that had been pouring from the wound on his head. Athos turned to Aramis.
“We need to find out what happened, who did this.”
“I could kill them for hurting d’Artagnan like this.”
“You’re not the only one,” Athos replied. “He did nothing to deserve this. I am going to have a look around and see if I can find out who was responsible.”
“I’ll send Porthos to help once he returns,” Aramis said and Athos nodded in agreement. “I’ll stay and keep watch over our young friend.”
Athos paused for a moment to look at d’Artagnan. He reached out and ran his fingers through the younger man’s dark hair. D’Artagnan didn’t move. “Don’t worry, everything will be fine,” he reassured the unconscious man with a resolve even he wasn’t sure he meant.
Aramis was left alone as he tried his best to make d’Artagnan as comfortable as possible as he worked on stitching the cuts that littered the young man’s body. He was really in dire straits. There wasn’t one part of his body that wasn’t covered in either cuts bleeding profusely or bruises. Everywhere he looked he saw new injuries to tend to. He hoped Porthos returned with the doctor quickly.
-x-
D’Artagnan’s blood still coated the snow when Athos returned to the alley where he had been attacked making his stomach leap. He felt sick. There was so much of it. He hadn’t noticed before, he had been too concerned with carrying d’Artagnan to safety that he had failed to realise just how bad it had been. The blood brought it home to him that d’Artagnan could have actually died out there. If he had been a few minutes later or if he had stayed in the tavern then his friend would have died and no-one would have helped him. He felt his stomach leap again.
Athos bent down and it took all of his strength just to look at the blood covered snow but he needed to look for clues. The alley was a mess of footprints, he couldn’t tell how many men there were but he knew that it had to be several to overpower the younger man. D’Artagnan could have easily bested one or two men in a fight, possibly even three so he must have been considerably outnumbered. Not able to find any clues at the scene of the attack Athos decided the next best course of action was to go back to the tavern.
“Aramis said you might need some help lookin’ for whoever attacked d’Artagnan,” Porthos said as he met Athos outside the tavern. “An’ God knows I’m lookin’ for a fight.”
“There were no clues where he was attacked as to who the perpetrators were, I thought here might yield more results,” Athos tried to keep his voice level but it was hard not to let the anger he felt show. He wanted to kill these men just as much as Porthos did.
Porthos pushed the door to the tavern open and he and Athos entered. It was quiet with just a few customers spread out over the space of the room, the bartender stood at the edge of the bar watching over his custom. He immediately tensed up when he saw the two Musketeers enter which neither of them failed to notice. He knew something.
Athos and Porthos walked up to the bartender who tried to flee. He didn’t get very far as Porthos grabbed hold of his arm and shoved him hard against the bar.
“Goin’ somewhere?” He growled.
“No… not at all,” the man stammered. “Wha… wha… what can I do for you gentlemen?”
“We were just looking for some information,” Athos said calmly.
“Can you help us with that?”
“What information?”
“You see,” Porthos spoke next. “A very good friend of ours was attacked last night an’ we wanna know what happened.”
“I do… don’t know anything about that.”
“From the way you reacted when we came in I think you do know what happened. I think you were involved somehow.”
“I wasn’t, I swear.”
“Aww ain’t he cute coverin’ for ‘is friends like that? Why don’t you try again with the truth this time?” Porthos shoved him harder and he cried out in pain.
“I wasn’t involved, I swear. I overheard some men last night. They were talking about how your friend got a little bit too overfamiliar with one of their wives and they were going to make him pay. I didn’t do anything, please don’t hurt me,” he begged.
Porthos let him go and with a threatening note in his voice he said, “now tell me who it was you overheard.”
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timeasmymeasure
Re: Gen- d'Artagnan gets the absolute hell beaten out of him (Extreme violence) P2
Date: 2015-05-08 04:04 pm (UTC)“I’m not completely sure. He was attacked, that much is certain, but by whom I do not know.”
“Where did you find him?”
“In an alley not far from the tavern we were drinking in last night. It looks like his assailants followed him from there. How is he?”
“He has a couple of broken ribs, his arm is broken too but he also has a head injury which is the most concerning as is the blood loss. I’m surprised he’s still alive.”
“He’s strong,” Athos replied. “He’ll survive.”
“Not without a doctor,” Aramis sighed. “I can stitch up the cuts and bind his arm but he needs more help than I can give.”
“I’ll go,” Porthos said, breaking the silence he had kept since he’d arrived. “I’ll be as quick as I can,” he said as he headed towards the door, leaving Athos and Aramis with the unconscious d’Artagnan.
He looked almost peaceful. It would have been a sweet sight had he not been so badly injured. His face was covered in quickly appearing bruises and his hair was matted with the blood that had been pouring from the wound on his head. Athos turned to Aramis.
“We need to find out what happened, who did this.”
“I could kill them for hurting d’Artagnan like this.”
“You’re not the only one,” Athos replied. “He did nothing to deserve this. I am going to have a look around and see if I can find out who was responsible.”
“I’ll send Porthos to help once he returns,” Aramis said and Athos nodded in agreement. “I’ll stay and keep watch over our young friend.”
Athos paused for a moment to look at d’Artagnan. He reached out and ran his fingers through the younger man’s dark hair. D’Artagnan didn’t move. “Don’t worry, everything will be fine,” he reassured the unconscious man with a resolve even he wasn’t sure he meant.
Aramis was left alone as he tried his best to make d’Artagnan as comfortable as possible as he worked on stitching the cuts that littered the young man’s body. He was really in dire straits. There wasn’t one part of his body that wasn’t covered in either cuts bleeding profusely or bruises. Everywhere he looked he saw new injuries to tend to. He hoped Porthos returned with the doctor quickly.
-x-
D’Artagnan’s blood still coated the snow when Athos returned to the alley where he had been attacked making his stomach leap. He felt sick. There was so much of it. He hadn’t noticed before, he had been too concerned with carrying d’Artagnan to safety that he had failed to realise just how bad it had been. The blood brought it home to him that d’Artagnan could have actually died out there. If he had been a few minutes later or if he had stayed in the tavern then his friend would have died and no-one would have helped him. He felt his stomach leap again.
Athos bent down and it took all of his strength just to look at the blood covered snow but he needed to look for clues. The alley was a mess of footprints, he couldn’t tell how many men there were but he knew that it had to be several to overpower the younger man. D’Artagnan could have easily bested one or two men in a fight, possibly even three so he must have been considerably outnumbered. Not able to find any clues at the scene of the attack Athos decided the next best course of action was to go back to the tavern.
“Aramis said you might need some help lookin’ for whoever attacked d’Artagnan,” Porthos said as he met Athos outside the tavern. “An’ God knows I’m lookin’ for a fight.”
“There were no clues where he was attacked as to who the perpetrators were, I thought here might yield more results,” Athos tried to keep his voice level but it was hard not to let the anger he felt show. He wanted to kill these men just as much as Porthos did.
Porthos pushed the door to the tavern open and he and Athos entered. It was quiet with just a few customers spread out over the space of the room, the bartender stood at the edge of the bar watching over his custom. He immediately tensed up when he saw the two Musketeers enter which neither of them failed to notice. He knew something.
Athos and Porthos walked up to the bartender who tried to flee. He didn’t get very far as Porthos grabbed hold of his arm and shoved him hard against the bar.
“Goin’ somewhere?” He growled.
“No… not at all,” the man stammered. “Wha… wha… what can I do for you gentlemen?”
“We were just looking for some information,” Athos said calmly.
“Can you help us with that?”
“What information?”
“You see,” Porthos spoke next. “A very good friend of ours was attacked last night an’ we wanna know what happened.”
“I do… don’t know anything about that.”
“From the way you reacted when we came in I think you do know what happened. I think you were involved somehow.”
“I wasn’t, I swear.”
“Aww ain’t he cute coverin’ for ‘is friends like that? Why don’t you try again with the truth this time?” Porthos shoved him harder and he cried out in pain.
“I wasn’t involved, I swear. I overheard some men last night. They were talking about how your friend got a little bit too overfamiliar with one of their wives and they were going to make him pay. I didn’t do anything, please don’t hurt me,” he begged.
Porthos let him go and with a threatening note in his voice he said, “now tell me who it was you overheard.”