So this is actually the last chapter of this story. Yes, I know that this is rather short, but I am actually really happy with this. I hope you like it, too.
I already have new ideas for future stories, which I cannot wait to start writing.
So I hope you have enjoyed this rather angsty story. Please make sure to read and review what you think, as well as what you would like to here in the future.
Weeks passed, and Aramis wasn't recovering. Instead, his shoulder wound got infected, and his stab wound just would not heal. Nightmares plagued him repeatedly, never letting him sleep. He was always pale and exhausted, and most definitely not the Aramis he once was.
Constance always reported back to Anne, telling her of Aramis' conditions. As they kept getting worse, Anne kept growing more upset. She stopped visiting her lover, trying to cope by laying in bed for countless hours. The tears never left her eyes; it was like she had no more to shed. She told the King and her servants that she did not want to be disturbed, never giving a reason as to why. Nobody questioned her, to which she was grateful.
Aramis started growing worried for Anne, and as a result, more nightmares came.
But soon enough, he realized that he needed to see her himself. So he forced himself onto his feet, and with the help of his friends, he made his way to the Palace. Using his the secret entrance that he always used to visit her, he made his way to Anne's room. And once making sure that she was alone, -which thankfully, she was - he walked in, and found Anne lying in bed, completely still, curled into herself.
The Musketeer sighed quietly. "Anne," he said, trying to keep his voice down. As he came closer to her, he grunted softly, his entire body aching.
The Queen rushed to sit upright, her eyes widening when seeing who was in his room. "Oh my God, Aramis!" she cried, quickly standing up. She ran into his open arms, feeling sudden comfort in his arms. She began to sob, cupping the back of his neck. She felt him shaking against her, and she immediately loosened her hold on him. "What are you doing here?" she asked him, looking at his face.
"I needed to see you," he replied. His eyes were full of the same pain she last saw him with. Only this time, it was so much worse, for it wasn't just physical torment he was suffering from … it was mental as well. "I needed to."
Anne nodded. "I am so glad you did," she said.
Suddenly, she kissed him, as hard as she could. Just like he needed to see her, she needed to feel his lips on hers. A moan escaped his mouth as she pulled him closer to him, and she pulled away to look at him.
"You are still hurt," she said sadly. "As much as I want you here, you still need time to heal…"
"I need you, Anne," Aramis said then. "I have missed you so … I will not leave, not yet. Right now, all I want is to be with you. Like you were with me before."
He kissed her, wrapping his arms around her small form. It seemed she had lost weight in these past few weeks, he realized, and he unconsciously blamed himself for it.
He sat down on the bed and pulled Anne on top of his knees, running his hand through her long, blonde hair. "You know," he whispered, keeping his head against her own. "While we were running, you said that you loved me. I realize that I never said that I love you, too."
Anne gasped, her eyes darting up and down his face and body. She smashed her mouth on his, tears beginning to fall down her face.
In a few hours, Aramis and Anne found themselves lying beside each other, with Aramis' back to the Queen. Anne was lightly tracing the scars and wounds on his skin, amazed at how many there were, and how Aramis wasn't flinching every time she ran her fingers over one of those offending marks. Aramis, on the other hand, had his eyes closed and was trying to keep his breath still. His body was on fire, but the pain was slowly becoming unbearable…
"I want to thank you," Anne finally said, breaking the silence they had been sharing. "For everything."
Slowly, Aramis turned to her, his eyes softening; he wanted to hide his pain as much as he could. "I was only doing my duty as your Musketeer … and as your lover. I will always do everything I can to keep you safe."
He gathered her into his embrace, kissing the top of her head. "Always," he repeated, stroking her hair with a shaking hand.
And with that, they fell asleep, both at peace with each other, as well as themselves.