New chapter! Sorry for it's shortness.

Again, not much really happens - in my opinion - but I needed to put this in so I can keep going with the story. I think that the next chapter will be the lats one, but I'm still not sure.

Still, I hope you enjoy! Please make sure to read and review!


That same night, Aramis was called back into the Palace. The minute he arrived, he knew that something was wrong.

"Aramis." It was Treville again. He looked even more worried than before. "Come quickly. It's Her Majesty."

"What's wrong?" Aramis asked, walking towards his former Captain.

"She's having a nightmare," Treville explained. "Why didn't you tell me about what they did to her?"

More guilt washed over him in that one moment. "I-"

"Never mind that," the other man interrupted. "She was calling for you and nobody can wake her up. She needs you. Now."

And then he was outside Anne's room. The King was standing behind it, resting his head against the wood. Every time Anne screamed, he flinched. When he and Aramis locked gazes, he said, "I don't care what you do, just help her. Please."

Aramis nodded and went in.

He saw Anne, writhing on her bed, calling his name. "Aramis," she was whimpering. "Aramis where are you? Please … Don't leave me."

The Musketeer fell on his knees beside her, taking his Queen's shaking hand and squeezing it. "I'm right here, Your Majesty - Anne," he began, keeping his voice low and gentle. "You're safe; you're at the Palace. Those bandits are gone, and they are not coming back. Nobody can hurt you anymore."

Suddenly, Anne gasped, her eyes snapping open. "Aramis!" she cried, bursting into heavy sobs. The minute her lover sat on the bed, she forced herself into his arms, unable to stop herself. "Oh God, Aramis, they won't leave me alone," she whispered.

Aramis knew that feeling all too well. The minute she said it, the memories of Savoy hit him, and he couldn't help but feel even more guilty. "I know," was all he was able to say. He kissed the top of her head gently, rubbing her arm back and forth to try and provide her with some comfort. "I know."

A few hours later, Aramis finally put Anne to sleep. As he left her room, he felt sadness wash over him. He was then staring at the King, who had the expression of someone who was ready to kill. "Your Majesty, the Queen and I are just friends, that's all," he was quick to say. "I love her like any of my close friends, and I would - will - do anything for her."

Louis sighed. "I will forget that this ever happened," he began. "I will not punish you because I am still very grateful for all you have done for my wife. We will not speak of this again."

And with that, he left.

Aramis breathed out a heavy sigh of relief. "Thank you, Your Majesty," he whispered.

When he returned to the Garrison, his three friends were practically dying to find out what had happened. Porthos led his friend to a bench and gave him some wine, immediately noticing how pale Aramis was, and how quiet.

"What happened?" he asked him, patting Aramis' arm while the other man chugged down his drink.

The marksman grunted as he finished the alcohol off, wiping his mouth and placing his head in his hands. "She had a nightmare," he explained. "She was calling my name, and couldn't wake up until I came. She was so … scared. Those bandits just won't leave her conscious alone." He sighed. "I know that feeling all too well," he added softly, closing his tired eyes.


While he was sleeping that night, Aramis was also plagued with nightmares, which were all incredibly difficult to bear. They all showed Anne, calling for him, the bandits taking her away. Flea smashing a dagger through her heart, laughing as her body thudded to the ground. The pain that took ahold of him as she stared at her lifeless body...

He was finally able to wake up from one of them when he felt someone shaking him.

He gasped awake, reaching for the dagger he had put on his bedside table. His vision was slightly blurry, and he couldn't see very well.

"Aramis, it's alright," the one shaking him said. "It's me … Porthos."

"Porthos?" Aramis asked, his vision clearing up. He slumped back into the covers, rubbing his forehead. He let out a weary chuckle and said, "And now those bandits won't leave my conscious."

"I know how hard this is for you, my friend," Porthos said. "But you, and Anne, will get through this. Some day."

"I know that, Porthos, but it still doesn't help," Aramis replied. "The 'getting - through - it' part won't pass quick enough. And I don't care about myself … I care about Anne, and only her. She has to deal with so much just because I wasn't there to protect her. What kind of Musketeer does that make me?"

"Hey!" Porthos exclaimed, slapping his friend's hand. "Don't you dare say that! You did everything you could, how many times do I have to tell you that? If you didn't protect her, she wouldn't have survived. You have get that through your thick headed skull. Right now, what happened is in the past. What you have to focus on, is trying to help her through it. This will never be forgotten, but at least you will have closure."

Slowly, Aramis nodded. "Thank you, Porthos, for all of this," he finally said. "You're right." He smiled slightly. "You always are."

The big man chuckled. "I'm not sure about that. Usually, I'm the one that ends up being wrong and gets everyone into a bunch of trouble." He paused, as if thinking. Finally, he said, "How about we go to a tavern?" he then asked. "I doubt that you would want to sleep anymore, even though you need it." His eyes lit up. "Nothing that a little liquor can't fix!"

Aramis laughed in return. "Why not? I really don't want to sleep any longer anyway."

He got out of his bed and put on his uniform … and then he and Porthos were off to their favorite tavern, where they drank, laughed, and forgot about all their worries.