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backtothefanfiction · 3 months ago

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Not Your Average Damsel In Distress | Aramis Musketeers Imagine

Summary- After being kidnapped, your rescuers take too long to come to your aid, so you start to rescue yourself.

Warnings: kidnapping, mild violence, blood, a little list

A/N: Currently trying to have a clear out of my drafts. This has been sat for a while now, might be a few mistakes as this was a late night write but I really can’t be bothered to edit and read through yet again. This might end up with a part 2 as I know there’s some Aramis smut sitting in me waiting to come out and know how I want to continue this, but for now, this can act as a stand alone. Enjoy!

Your limbs were starting to ache. You didn’t know how long you had been sat here waiting; one hour- two- all you knew was the wooden chair they had placed you on was a little too small. The back dug into the underside of your shoulders blades, which were sticking out in the most awkward way, due to the fact your arms were tied around your back. The rope that bind them chafed; and you didn’t even want to get started on the rag they had gagged you with, or the stinking potato sack they had shoved over your head.

You had hoped by now that at the very least your kidnappers would have come to threaten you by now, but alas, you remained locked in this room alone waiting… and waiting…. and waiting.

You had been waiting so long now you were sure one of the boys would have noticed you were missing and began the hunt for you; but as the light began to shift- and things grew darker and darker within your potato sack- you realised you were probably going to have to get yourself out of this one on your own.

The faint sound of heavy footsteps and jangling keys making their way down the hallway gave you hope, and you sat up straighter in an attempt to compose yourself as the door was unlocked and opened, the heavy wooden door dragging loudly across the floorboards. A man cleared his throat and you listened the to the heavy fall of his footsteps and the creek of the floorboards under foot as he trod closer and closer to you.

There was a sudden flood of candlelight as the bag was ripped off of your head, a handful of hairs being pulled out with the motion. You kept your features stern, pushing away the pain, as your eyes adjusted to the light and you began to make out the figure before you. He wasn’t a big hulking man as his gate would suggest, but a man of average height, with a soft belly and thinning hair. However, despite his appearance, his rough unshaven stubble and the sallow bags under his eyes, spoke of the company he was a part of.

“Here- eat this.” He said, thrusting a tray of food in front of your face. It wasn’t much; a stale end of bread, a couple of cuts of moulding cheese and a piece of fruit- but that didn’t matter, because he had brought a small glass bottle containing something to drink into the room.

“H-w, boo, ooo, hepsep, eeh, ooo, eep, iv, iss, iii, eye, ouf.” You mumbled with the gag still in your mouth.

“Sorry, what was that love?” He gruff voice said, as he shifted the tray to balance in one hand, whilst he pulled the gag from your mouth with the other.

“Uhh thank you.” She sighed, as you tried to work the ache out of your jaw, from where it had been clenching around the gag for the better part of the afternoon. “I said,” you continued, still trying to shake off the sensation of the gag, “how do you expect me to eat with this in my mouth, however now that’s taken care of we have a whole other issue to deal with.” You paused, your eyes moving to indicate your hands tied behind your back.

“Ahhh.” He said, realising his second mistake. “Here.” He said, lifting the bit of bread to your mouth and popping it in. Not what you meant, but a perfect opportunity nonetheless. You fought to bite down on the stale bread, ripping a piece of it off, your stomach rumbling as you did so- but it wouldn’t get the chance to savour the food- because just as the man leaned back over you to take the other section of bread away from your mouth so you could easily chew, you leaned forward and head butted the man with all your might. Caught off guard, the man fell to the ground, out cold, the tray in his hand clattering to the floor- the glass bottle smashing.

Knowing you wouldn’t have long- someone would have definitely heard that and would come running- you quickly tipped over your chair and began shuffling around on the floor, trying to get a one of the broke pieces of glass. You could feel it digging into your skin, your fingers becoming slick with blood as you sawed at the rope. You bit your lip to fight off the need to cry from the pain, but the flood of relief that swelled in your chest as the rope gave way, took all of that worry away.

The moment you were free, you pushed yourself to your feet and ran for the door. As you wrenched it open, you became acutely aware of the bloody finger prints you left on the door and made a mental note to avoid touching anything else if you could help it, to avoid leaving a trail that would lead your captors straight back to you before you’d even had a chance to run.

But although you could hear a commotion downstairs, you were surprised to find no one on your tail. That was the other thing you quickly realised, you were on the third floor of a large desolate building. It was too dark outside to see where bouts you were, but given the lack of light, you surmised you had to be on the outskirts of the city at least.

The next problem became how you were going to get back down stairs and out the building without being noticed, especially when it sounded like there were a sizeable amount of men standing guard downstairs. You said standing guard lightly however, because it definitely sounded like they were fighting. But who? Each other? Or had your boys finally come to rescue you.

Sudden fear once again rocked you to your core the heavy set of footsteps and cries of “you heard what he said- get the girl” could be heard making their way up stairs.

You quickly began to back track down the hall, desperate to find a place to hide. You wanted to check doors but feared leaving bloody marks behind- however you realised, if you touched as many doors as possible before you ducked into one, maybe it would confuse them for a bit before- A pair of hands grabbed you. You were about to scream in protest when one of the hands clamped firmly over your mouth as the pulled you back into the shadows with the other. You felt a body press firmly against your own, crowding you back into the dark corner. When you looked to the face of your assailant, you were relived when your eyes met the warmth of Aramis’s.

Your chest heaved a sigh of relief, though your eyes still looked wildly at his. He silent raised a finger to his lips, begging you to remain quiet, however with the handsome musketeers body pressed firmly against your own and his hand still pressed to your lips, you couldn’t deny the sudden need and want that flooded your body under his heroic gaze. You found your thighs silently squeezing together to relieve the ache between your leg as you fought against the wanton sigh that wanted to escape your chest.

“Shit! She’s gone!” Cried out one of the men as they ran into the room you had not long left.

“What did you do?!” One of them shouted at the man she had left on the floor. “You had one job and you couldn’t even do that.”

“She can’t have gotten far.” The first man said again.

Aramis grew tense as the two of you listened from the shadows down the other end of the hallway.

“She’s injured!” Cried the second man. There was a pause and you knew they were looking at the smeared blood on the door. “Look out for blood.”

“There’s only one way out. She would have had to have gone down the stairs.” Cried the man’s voice she recognised as the man shed briefly knocked unconscious.

“We would have noticed her when we were coming up.” Said one of the other men.

“Not if she was hiding on the second floor.” Said the gravely voice of the man who had tried to feed you.

As if by a miracle, a door on the floor below slammed and they all went running down the steps after it. Both Aramis and yourself let out a sigh of relief. Slowly he lowered his hand from your mouth.

“What time do you call this?” You hissed at him.

“I’d say this was a timely rescue milady-“ he began chivalrous but was cut off by the glare you fixed him with. “We got hung up. You know, we do actually have a job taking care of the King when we are not saving your ass from whatever trouble you’re getting yourself in-“ his word was cut off by a slap to his face. He grunted slightly and although the light was dim, you could see the way his pupils flared, felt how his body twitched with arousal- before he schooled his features again.

As he rubbed at his cheek and pulled his hand away, he noticed the blood that came away on his fingers. That’s when he remembered what the men had said. “You’re injured.” He said, reaching for your hand with concern.

You attempted to snatch your hand back but he didn’t let go. “How?” He said, as he reached to cut a bit of fabric from the bottom of his shirt, to wrap around your bloodied fingers.

“What can I say. You were late, I had to get creative.” He fixed you with a look, that said ‘you better elaborate’. “Is now really the time?” You asked, but snidely squeezed your fingers. “Ow, okay- by the way, I was doing perfectly fine rescuing myself, thank you very much.” Your fingers smarted as he tied off the bandage. He dropped your hand and placed his hands on his hips, as he waited to hear the details of your hastily thought out plan.

“I think it worked pretty well.” You said with pride as you finished recounting how you had knocked your assailant unconscious and used the glass from the broken bottle to cut yourself free.

“You’re forgetting the part where you cut your hand open ready to leave them a blood trail straight back to you.” Aramis retorted as a new wave of shouts a cries echoed up from the floor below.

“Yeah, well I was working on that.” You retorted as he checked the coast was clear on your floor, before he began to lead you both out of the shadows and towards the stairs.

“And what was your great plan there?” He asked, slightly exasperated, but nevertheless intrigued.

“I was going to touch everything as much as possible to confuse them about my whereabouts, then I was going to hide and either wait for the opportune moment to sneak out or for the cavalry to arrive- which by the way, I’m assuming that’s Porthos on the floor below.” You surmised as you both paused at the top of the stairs to listen to a resounding clatter and grunt as Porthos no doubt launched a heavy piece of furniture towards his assailant.

There was another clatter before he came into view at the bottom of the stairs. “Oh good, you’ve got her.” He panted.

Aramis folded his arms and relaxed back into the wall. “Yeah, but it turns out she doesn’t need us.” He sighed playfully. “Apparently she was doing just fine on her own.”

Porthos frowned as he scanned you over. “Then why is her hand bleeding?” He mused as another set of feet thundered up the stairs to find them.

“Athos says it’s time to go.” D’Artagnan told panted as he came to a stop beside Porthos. The young man presence and statement forced Aramis to straighten and push himself off the wall as he remembered the very near danger of their surroundings.

“Come on let’s go.” Porthos encouraged and Aramis reached back for your fingers and ushered you the rest of the way down the first set of stairs, before moving a hand to your lower back to encourage you to go down the next set of steps before him.

You all hesitated at the base of the second set of stairs, hiding yourself behind Porthos’s large back as you waited for D’Artagnan to give you the all clear to move. You felt Aramis’s fingers reach for yours in the dark, both to reassure you everything would be okay and to ensure you’d both make a swift exit out the door to safety when the moment came.

When it did, you ran. And you ran. You barely noticed the unconscious bodies lying on the floor, or the last couple of men who still grappled sword to sword with Athos over by the fire, you just kept going- out the door and across the courtyard to the awaiting horses.

“Milady.” D’Artagnan said courteously as he helped you climb up onto Aramis’s horse as the man in question turned to fire his pistol at a couple of rouge assailants. Both men went down instantly, their bodies falling into crumpled heaps on the ground before the gun shots had finished echoing off the surrounding buildings.

The horse beneath stepped forward and back as it bristled against the noise but D’Artagnan held the reins steady until he could hand them off to his brother in arms.

“Don’t wait for us.” The younger man commanded, slapping the horse on its rump. Aramis nodded before snapping the reins with a cry and the two of you galloped off into the night, back towards the city.

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