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Welcome to the BBC The Musketeers kink meme
The lowdown: You post your prompt, anon or not. Someone else will hopefully fill it (also anon or not). Not for profit, just for fun. And in this case, for king and country.
Anon is on, IP logging is off.
Rules:
No wank
No kink-shaming
Be respectful to everyone
The mod is not your babysitter
Use the warnings
No prompts with characters under the age of 16 in sexual situations, please.
Please keep the discussions in the prompt post to a minimum. We have a discussion post
Mandatory trigger warnings/warnings for both prompts and fills:
non-con/dub-con
abuse (physical and mental)
issues such as racism, sexism, homo-/trans-/-bi-/ace-phobia etc
character death
suicide
self-harm
eating disorders
extreme physical or mental illness
substance abuse (alcohol, drugs, medication)
bullying
gore and horror
If this list misses anything, do let me know, though please understand that if absolutely everything is added this list will never end.
You are encouraged and advised to add additional warnings at your own discretion.
Please make use of the subject line.
If your prompt alludes to the book or any of the other adaptations, please let us know which one.
Lastly, prompt freezes (which I have to say I’m really not fond of) etc will be at the mod’s discretion. I will decide on a prompt cut-off point for prompt posts once I know how fast the meme moves.
Announcement: A blanket spoiler warning is necessary for prompts pertaining to season 2. Just season 2 Spoilers in the subject line will do.
Archive:
https://delicious.com/bbcmusketeers
Discussion post:
http://bbcmusketeerskink.dreamwidth.org/557.html
Official fill post (I strongly suggest you use it for better visibility of your fills):
http://bbcmusketeerskink.dreamwidth.org/418.html
Mod contact post
http://bbcmusketeerskink.dreamwidth.org/1356.html
Free For All Round 1
http://bbcmusketeerskink.dreamwidth.org/1823.html
The lowdown: You post your prompt, anon or not. Someone else will hopefully fill it (also anon or not). Not for profit, just for fun. And in this case, for king and country.
Anon is on, IP logging is off.
Rules:
No wank
No kink-shaming
Be respectful to everyone
The mod is not your babysitter
Use the warnings
No prompts with characters under the age of 16 in sexual situations, please.
Please keep the discussions in the prompt post to a minimum. We have a discussion post
Mandatory trigger warnings/warnings for both prompts and fills:
non-con/dub-con
abuse (physical and mental)
issues such as racism, sexism, homo-/trans-/-bi-/ace-phobia etc
character death
suicide
self-harm
eating disorders
extreme physical or mental illness
substance abuse (alcohol, drugs, medication)
bullying
gore and horror
If this list misses anything, do let me know, though please understand that if absolutely everything is added this list will never end.
You are encouraged and advised to add additional warnings at your own discretion.
Please make use of the subject line.
If your prompt alludes to the book or any of the other adaptations, please let us know which one.
Lastly, prompt freezes (which I have to say I’m really not fond of) etc will be at the mod’s discretion. I will decide on a prompt cut-off point for prompt posts once I know how fast the meme moves.
Announcement: A blanket spoiler warning is necessary for prompts pertaining to season 2. Just season 2 Spoilers in the subject line will do.
Archive:
https://delicious.com/bbcmusketeers
Discussion post:
http://bbcmusketeerskink.dreamwidth.org/557.html
Official fill post (I strongly suggest you use it for better visibility of your fills):
http://bbcmusketeerskink.dreamwidth.org/418.html
Mod contact post
http://bbcmusketeerskink.dreamwidth.org/1356.html
Free For All Round 1
http://bbcmusketeerskink.dreamwidth.org/1823.html
Fill: Dreams unto an Exile (TW: Slavery, violence) 3/?
Date: 2015-01-23 08:57 am (UTC)“…sorry, I’m sorry,” Louis is chanting when he manages to focus again.
“It’s fine,” d'Artagnan manages.
“I saved you water,” Louis tells him. “The guard said you couldn’t have any because you didn’t do any work, so I saved mine.”
“Thank you,” d'Artagnan says in surprise.
Louis awkwardly helps him to sit up and he sips the water. That tiny movement has already left him exhausted.
“Why did they hurt you?” Louis murmurs.
“To make a point, sire.” d'Artagnan can’t stop himself from slumping against Louis; surprisingly, the king only adjusts his position to keep him more or less upright.
“What point?”
“That they can, I think. How long have…”
“Most of a day. I thought you wouldn’t wake up. The guards were making bets.”
d'Artagnan blinks and then laughs softly. “You speak Spanish.”
“It seemed prudent.” Louis is silent for a while, and d'Artagnan drifts, waking when Louis continues, “I haven’t been a good master, have I.”
“It’s not your fault…”
“No excuses. It’s my duty to protect you as much as yours to protect me. I’ll be better, Charles.”
“I’m all right,” d'Artagnan tells him. “Is it night?”
“Yes. You have a little more time to rest.”
“Good,” d'Artagnan murmurs, letting himself sink again.
He’s dreading going back to the rowing bench, but he knows he won’t be given any more time. He’s surprised when a guard comes to squat beside them, eyeing them before saying “You sew?”
“I so?” d'Artagnan repeats, confused.
The guard scowls. “Sew. Needle, thread.” He mimes a looping stitch.
“Sew,” d'Artagnan says, relieved. “Yes, I can sew.”
“Him?”
“Yes,” d'Artagnan says firmly. “He can.”
The guard takes them both up onto the deck – the sight of the sky nearly blinds d'Artagnan – and sets them in a corner of the deck with ripped sails, needles and thread. d'Artagnan threads Louis’ needle and shows him what to do. Louis picks it up surprisingly quickly.
Sitting up is a strain on d'Artagnan, but it’s far easier than rowing would be and he’s able to lean against the railing to take some of the strain off. The sun and fresh air make up for the discomfort. They’re being watched, but they’re always being watched; no one’s actively hurting them, so d'Artagnan doesn’t care too much.
Once Louis is confident enough in his stitching he starts teaching d'Artagnan Spanish, starting with the phrases that might actually be useful to them and moving on to others. d'Artagnan’s accent is terrible, but he’s more concerned with understanding than being understood, and Louis has an impeccable accent.
Domingo comes by, pausing to inspect the work. “One more day, Charles. Then back to the oars. Yes?”
“Yes, senor,” d'Artagnan says agreeably. Louis keeps his head down, picking at a thread.
On the second day the ship pulls in at a resupply dock. d'Artagnan and Louis keep working in their corner; d'Artagnan’s hoping for a chance to slip away in the bustle, but a guard comes by and fastens their chains to the railing. d'Artagnan grimaces and keeps working. The dock workers keep wandering back and forth with supplies; occasionally one knocks into d'Artagnan or Louis, though it doesn’t seem to be malicious. Louis takes to watching out for them and warning d'Artagnan when to shuffle closer to the railing, out of their way.
Halfway through the last sail he glances up, blinks, and drops his needle in the path of one of the workers. “My apologies!” he all but shouts, in French-accented Spanish. “A mistake, I’m sorry!”
“No harm done,” the worker says genially in Spanish, crouching to pick up the needle and offer it to him. Louis kicks d'Artagnan, who looks up with a scowl and locks eyes with the worker.
Aramis offers the needle back, and Louis takes it, trembling.
“Thank you,” d'Artagnan offers, blinking.
“My pleasure,” Aramis assures him, in French this time, accented with Spanish. He lifts a fold of sail, examining their work. “Fine stitches.”
“A friend taught me.”
“Ah, good friends. Never very far from our hearts.”
“Charles!” Domingo shouts from the bridge, and d'Artagnan drops his gaze back to the sail, stitching quickly. Aramis stands, calling apologies to Domingo, and moves away.
“Quiet,” d'Artagnan warns Louis before he can speak.
“d'Artagnan…!”
“I know. Don’t show it. We don’t need to raise any suspicions.”
Louis scowls, but he obeys, going back to his work. “When do you think they’ll come?” he asks softly.
d'Artagnan glances around the deck without moving his head. “Night,” he murmurs. “We’re mooring. They’ll have an easier time in the dark.”
Domingo strides over, crouching beside them, furious. “What was that?” he spits.
d'Artagnan looks up, frowning. “Senor? Henri dropped his needle. The man returned it and complimented my stitching. That’s all.”
Domingo strikes him. It startles d'Artagnan; Domingo has touched him only once before. “You speak to no one,” he orders harshly. “Not my men, not those workers, not the other slaves, no one.” d'Artagnan flicks his eyes towards Louis and Domingo shakes his head. “Let your master find his own way for now. Not one word, Charles, until I say otherwise. Understand?”
d'Artagnan inclines his head. Domingo shoves to his feet, looking around for the nearest guard. “Get them below, now! Back to the bench.”
It’s pointless, the ship is moored, but d'Artagnan doesn’t fight anyway. The other slaves are below, all the benches empty; Louis and d'Artagnan are chained at separate ends of the room. There’s nothing to lean on or against and sitting up very quickly becomes intolerable; d'Artagnan grits his teeth, staying upright through force of will.
The room is growing darker by the time Domingo comes down, straddling the bench in front of d'Artagnan to study him. “I said that I would make you an offer,” he says softly.
d'Artagnan only watches him; Domingo waves a hand dismissively. “You may answer.”
“I have nothing to say to you, senor.” d'Artagnan can’t see Louis from here, but he hopes the other man will stay quiet.
“You may when you hear the offer.” Domingo glances along the length of the deck before looking back at d'Artagnan. “We aren’t far from France, Charles. I will send you, and Henri, with some of my men. You can deliver Henri to the hands of the French.”
d'Artagnan shakes his head slowly. “I’m not playing this game, Domingo. You won’t let him go.”
“I will. Because you will give me your word that you’ll return here, to my galley, and serve me as you do him.”
d'Artagnan stares at him. “I’ve told you, I won’t soldier for Spain.”
“Not soldier, not Spain. Me. Be my man as you are his. Buy his freedom, his return to nobility, with your honour.”
“Don’t,” Louis says from the other side of the room.
“Silence, little man,” Domingo says without looking at him.
“You would take my word?”
“I’ve seen your honour. A man like you does not stop at the borders of a country. If you give me your word I believe you will keep it. When you return you will serve as a guard, not a slave. No chains.”
“Don’t,” Louis says again. “You are my man, Charles, not his.”
“Silence,” Domingo repeats. Louis starts to protest and Domingo says flatly, “After the rod comes the cat, Henri. Do you wish Charles to taste it? Men die under it.”
“I won’t be much use to you dead,” d'Artagnan says, mind racing. Domingo can’t possibly really mean this, can he?
“As much use as you are without your word. Charles, you were not meant to sit on a bench and pull an oar, and that is all that awaits you here. I retire from my service soon, I leave this galley behind. Your next captain will not be so indulgent as I. My offer is genuine, and short lived. Live as my man, or die as a slave. That is your choice.”
“My choice is to keep my oath or break it,” d'Artagnan says softly.
“Perhaps. That depends on what you consider your oath to entail. No more talking, Charles, until I say you may.” Standing, he added, “If you speak to him, Henri, he will be flogged. Do you understand?”
“Yes, senor,” Louis said evenly. “But I will tell you. He will not take your offer.”
“I think, to see you safe, he will do almost anything. Consider your options carefully, Charles. I will return for your answer.” He unlocks d'Artagnan’s chain, locking it back with much more slack. “Sit on the floor if it’s easier for you.”
d'Artagnan waits until he’s gone to slide off the bench and sitting on the floor, leaning on the bench. He buries his head in folded arms, trying to sort through his thoughts.
Re: Fill: Dreams unto an Exile (OP)
Date: 2015-01-23 10:01 pm (UTC)