I needed to vent my feelings. Spoilers up until episode 2x09.

Regrets

What good did yanking the chains again do? They jangled one more time loudly enough to resound in his eardrums, but not enough to disguise Constance's cries promising love to d'Artagnan. Not for the first time guilt washed over him. Had he not followed his desire, none of them would be in this situation.

Athos had been right, of course. Porthos had been right too. He should've aimed much lower than the Queen. But Aramis hadn't been able to help it. It took him by surprise. He wasn't a man who harvested deep feelings for his conquests. Indeed he treated them all with respect and let them know their affairs weren't meant to last. He was fond of them, but none had been able to have a permanent place in his life, except Isabel. And the Queen. Both stories were doomed from the beginning and he wondered countless times if that had been his punishment for his sinful life.

He let himself fall onto the ground and heaved a sigh. Aramis could still hear Constance's sobs.

What could he do to fix all this? He had no clue of what Rochefort next step would be, or how they would protect the Queen now. He didn't even allow himself to think about his son and what would happen if the truth came to surface.

Perhaps if he confessed his crimes, the Queen and everyone else would be spared. He could say he had taken advantage of her, and everything that came later was done to preserve her honor. It would get him killed, but maybe that would stop this madness. He would gladly offer his life if it got all the people he cared about safe.

But Aramis knew he would face no trial. There would never be a chance to defend himself or make a case. He would be dead as soon as possible, as soon as Rochefort thought it convenient.

His main regret would be to never see his son again and the uncertainty of their safety. Given his life didn't assure him anything. And leaving this world after seeing the look on her face once Rochefort told her about Marguerite seemed to only rub salt on their open wounds.

He wasn't lying when he told Porthos he loved the Queen. If she had been a commoner, he would've been willing to share a life with her, and raise their son in a small house, struggling with food and money, but never lacking love. Her name would've pour out of his lips with joy, just like it did that night they shared and cemented their fate.

When he ran his hands through his hair, the chains jangled again.

"I'm sorry, Constance," he said loudly.

"You apologize now?"

Aramis swallowed thickly, not quite reading into the meaning of her words but mistaking her tone for acceptance. She seemed to have embraced her sentence.

"I saw the way she looked at you. She smiled like she only does when she looks at her child. Are you apologizing for that? Do you regret that?" There was a motherly quality in Constance's voice that soothed him.

Whatever happens, I will never regret what happened here.

How could he? He loved her. Like her, he couldn't regret it.

"I apologize for allowing this to happen. For dragging all of you into this. I'm the one who should be punished."

"I thought the same when my husband died." He couldn't see her, but Aramis had to praise how brave she was. Many women in her position would've been desperate, and here she was comforting him. He saw the same courage in Anne, even if he thought it foolish an unnecessary, even if he knew he would've done the same. I've never fled from danger in my life. Now wasn't the chance either.

Turning his gaze upwards as the light filtering into his cell became darkness, Aramis felt the cold and remembered the warmth of lying in bed with Anne, with her against his chest. Those fleeting moments in which they were stripped from titles and duties were the only thing he had left.

He had seen the look on her face when Rochefort told her about his affair with Marguerite. Anne felt betrayed, but couldn't she understand he had done so to be close to their child? Couldn't she see past that? He longed to hold his son, and despite his feelings, Aramis was aware nothing would change and he was condemned to see other man be called father.

There was never an opportunity in which he could've confessed his love and sins to her. And what good it would do anyway? Better if she hated him, if she kept him as far away as she could. Better if he died and kept Anne and their son alive and safe.

With a bit of struggle he reached for the golden cross hanging over his chest. A little prayer only brought minimal comfort, but instead of asking for forgiveness, he asked for a different fate for his friends.

"Maybe if I die… maybe if Rochefort gets his revenge." He babbled.

"Good Lord!" Constance exclaimed. "Would you let him kill you and manipulate the King only to ease your guilt? Do you know what he'd do to her? If you give up… what would happen to the Dauphin?"

"She'll live!" He retaliated.

"What kind of life? That's not living! I know so. I've barely learned that now." There was a long pause that followed before she continued. "If you think you were to her nothing but a taste of freedom, you're wrong. Just like I was when I denied myself to accept my feelings for d'Artagnan. But you must understand, as women is easy to fool ourselves into believing we are undeserving of happiness. Just like duty comes first to you, we let that drive us."

"What can I do?"

"Don't let her feel this was for nothing."

"I believe it's too late for that. It's time for her to deny me, to forget, and for me to realize what a fool I've been. It's what I should've done from the beginning."

"Aramis-"

"Don't make this any sweeter than it is. Me and her, that's an impossible and always was."

The night became too long and too short all the same. What was awaiting for them didn't seem to come soon enough if there was no way to help it. If he could only make sure the Queen and the Dauphin were safe, that was his last wish.

Guards came for him in the morning, and as they dragged him upstairs and the light blinded him, he wondered what could possibly lie ahead for them.