Story edited: Thanks so much to Greenlips24 and Uia for your tips on how to make the story better readable. I hope it´s more fun to read now and you enjoy the new format!

She was alone, all on her own. She had torn down the last Red Guard with her own fragile hands, her shaking fingers still clasping tight to the smoking pistol she had drawn from Aramis´ holster with all strenght she could muster. Now she was surrounded by silence. Only the soft whisper of the wind revealed that time had not stopped, had not left her alone as the last living creature on a godforsaken earth.

A breath she had stopped without realizing it escaped her aching lungs. The pistol fell from her hands, her gaze ghosting over the surrounding battlefield.
Where was Aramis?
He defended her bravely, apparently alone against a superior power of 15 Red Guards, ordered by the devil himself, Rochefort. But now he was nowhere to be seen. Anna stumbled through the lifeless bodies on the clearing, where they had been surprised only minutes ago. Aramis had been distracted, as was she. She still tasted his caressing mouth on her lips. But now she tasted also blood and gunpowder, biting and repulsive.
Aramis? Where was Aramis?

That's when she spotted him. He lay half buried under a dead Guard he had just perforated with his sword, when the musket ball hit him. His doublet shimmered wet, damp and sticky with blood.

Anna stumbled forward, almost tangled in the damned pearly-colored skirts, pulled the Guard from him with all her strength, sank to her knees beside her lover, her trembling fingers touched gently and worriedly his pale, motionless face.
"Aramis?" Tears almost stifled their pleading words.
"Aramis." She sobbed. His skin was still warm.
Warm?

Anna hardly dared to hope, but her searching fingers opened his doublet, her fragile cool hand pressed against his bare chest. She breathed intermittently.
Was there a heartbeat?
With new determination, she lowered her head, gently placing an ear to his chest and holding her breath to listen.
"I am still here."

Anna felt it more than she heard it, a murmured response to her prayers, and when she lifted her gaze she looked directly into Aramis dark brown eyes.
Like a shiver, she breathed relief. Tears sprang to her eyes and she could not lean over him fast enough to cover his face with kisses.
"Aramis. Oh, Aramis, you live."
His breathing was intermittent, she felt it now. He was in pain, but he smiled a crooked smile.
"Yes, my Majesty."
He paused, chest moving under her hands.
"I would never dare to die in your presence."
Again this smile, full of mischief and goodness. And there was something else: Shame? Helplessness?
Aramis stopped trying to wiggle himself in a more comfortable position and looked Anna straight in the eye. His right hand sought and found her cheek, his gloved thumb caressing it gently. His eyes full of care and worry for his queen.
"Are you unharmed, Anna? I'm so sorry I could not protect you."

He lifted his head, his eyes searched anxiously for injuries, his voice rough and wounded. Speaking was difficult for him.
"Do not worry, Aramis, I'm fine. You fought bravely."

Her gaze wandered over the fifteen dead guardsmen scattered around them. He followed her gaze.
"We've been victorious," she smiled, a beautiful little-girl-smile, full of love and confidence.
"We?" Aramis asked mischievously.
"Yes, we."
With that answer she bent over him and their lips met in a kiss.

How long the kiss lasted, neither of them knew. But as their lips parted Aramis was ready to enter paradise. He had closed his eyes blissfully and felt no pain, no anger. Only the perfection of the present moment. He felt Annas cool hand stroking his forehead and wished that moment would last forever. But then he felt her hand slip away from him, the comforting moment was over.

It took some effort to reopen his eyes. He felt Anna trembling again and her delicate fingers working on his doublet. They loosened the leather cords that held it over his chest, and the cold forest air burned like fire on his wound. He could not help but grimace, a moan escaping his throat.
"You are bleeding heavily," he heard Anna whisper.
There was dread in her voice. Aramis sighed and gathered all his remaining strength, bracing himself on his right elbow to lean back against the nearby tree trunk. He did not want to see it, but it had to be: He raised his right hand and gently felt around the wound on his left shoulder, right above the heart. With each of his irregular heartbeats he felt fresh, hot blood flow from the wound.

He swallowed and studied his own bloodied fingertips for a moment. Then, with some difficulty, he pulled his sash from his hip, took a deep breath and pressed the cloth to the wound. His whole body tensed under the pain, but as a field surgeon and healer, he knew what such a heavy blood loss could do to a wounded man.
He narrowed his eyes and tried to even his breathing.

"Anna, in my saddlebag, my instruments, for field surgery." He had to stop to catch his breath.
"Can you bring them to me?"

At this moment of outermost distress, he no longer paid attention to her title of nobility, or that it was not appropriate to demand something of his queen, let alone ask her to get anything. And even Anna did not seem to care, because she listened attentively to each of his words, nodded and leap up.

Their horses had moved a little way from the battle, but fortunately they were still standing among the willow trees. The beasts were sweating, neighing and retreating as Anna approached. With outstretched hands and reassuring words, she tried not to frighten the startled creatures any more, but she also knew that she had little time to spare.

She has always been good to animals. The cruel hunting practices of her husband King Louis had always given her a stab to the heart, but in her childhood at the Royal Palace of Valladolid* there was no horse, no rabbit and no stray cat that could escape her petting. So she managed in no time to soothe Aramis´ loyal warhorse and to wrap its reins around the next branch, so it and her quiet mare did not disappear onto the road.

Aramis´ saddlebags were stuffed with things: a clean shirt, a raincoat, dried supplies, several drinking canteens and a small breviary, his prayer book. She quickly searched both bags and finally found what she was looking for: a larger package of leather and linen, next to it wrapped in a clean scarf several long strips of cloth, prepared as bandages.

Aramis seemed to be prepared for severe injuries of his comrades. Probably because of his long experience in the field, he always had enough bandages and the most necessary medical instruments with him to be best equipped in an emergency. What a caring and thoughtful man. Now he himself needed the help of his materials.

Anna took everything that seemed useful, including one of the bottles, and quickly returned to Aramis. The latter now sat upright leaning against the tree, one hand pressed the fabric of his Sash on the wound to staunch the bleeding. He smiled crookedly as he saw Anna coming back with the towels and bandages.
"I tied the horses," she said as she sank down beside him in the grass.
"Well done. We may need them later."

Gratefully, he took the supplies from her and eyed them with trained look. In the meantime, Anna had taken the sash from his hand and was now putting pressure on the wound. The piece of fabric has soaked in blood in this short time and even an untrained eye saw that it was almost useless.

Aramis folded a firm bale out of the new bandages with practiced fingers. He looked up, feeling her firm, secure hand on his chest. He felt as if through the reassuring pressure he could feel his raging heartbeat even more clearly, wondering if she could feel it too. His deepest secret, his hidden soul. For a moment he lost himself in the image that she might be his soulmate, his lover.

Then he gently put his right hand over her left, bringing her attention back from his blood to his eyes.
"Anna, in my saddlebag is a smaller black leather bottle. It contains a liquid that can prevent the risk of infection. Also a flint. Will you bring it to me?"

Anna nodded and got up again. Aramis dreaded what he would do to himself, what she had to watch. But he already felt the effects of blood loss. He felt lightheaded, the world began to spin. Breathing was difficult. He would not be able to stay conscious for much longer. With his teeth he pulled the cork out of a brown water hose, move it to his lips and took a long sip. As the burning liquid trickled down his throat and made him cough, he could not defy a devilish smile. Anna had instinctively grasped just the right hose.

She returned and brought him the things he asked for. He thanked her and set to work to roll out his instruments. With only one hand, it was not easy to untie the knot on the parcel, but once he had made it, he could identify he had everything important with him: silvery shining scalpels, knives, tweezers and needles. For a brief moment he thought, against better knowledge, of taking thread and needle and trying to suture the wound conventionally, but when his gaze fell on the blood-soaked bandage again he knew there was only one solution to him that could save him from certain death.

He touched Annas hand, which just pushed his shirt slightly more to the side so he had free access to his shoulder, looked deep into her eyes and asked
"Do you know how to build a fire?"

For a brief moment his question seemed to surprise her. The afternoon had been warm. But then she nodded.
"It does not have to be big." Aramis continued. "Some tinder, a few twigs and branches should be enough."
Anna still looked at him questioningly.
"Are you cold? Or should your friends be made aware of us through the fire?" she asked, glancing around as if she expected Porthos, Athos and D'Artagnan to emerge from the maze at any moment.

Aramis grabbed her hand tighter.
"No, Anna. But," he hesitated.
"I have to cauterize the wound. Otherwise," he wanted to continue, but Anna quickly withdrew her hand and straightened up.
"Aramis," she breathed in horror.
"Anna, listen to me," he insisted. "It´s bleeding too much, it must be a vein injured. Only a safe closure will stop the bleeding."
Anna was still staring at him with horrified eyes. Aramis took a deep breath.
"And it has to go fast now. I feel my strength wane."
He looked at her pleadingly and full of remorse, and despite all the heroism she could see fear shimmering in the corner of his eye. She pinched her lips together before her right hand fell over his heart and she spoke
"What must I do?"

Aramis was overwhelmed by her hearts solidity and power. He nodded briefly and explained what he was up to. A small fire was quickly awaken after Anna piled some twigs, moss and branches beside them. Aramis was astonished at her skill with the flintstone. At his instruction, she placed a small knife with a rounded tip on a fieldstone in the middle of the fire to heat up.

In the meantime, Aramis had fresh towels ready to hand next to him, including a small jar of ointment and the black leather bottle with the disinfecting tincture following his teacher's recipe.

As the blade began to glow, Aramis straightened up against the tree trunk and told Anna to sit next to him so he could brief her on the coming events. She realized that he took two deep breaths as if to arm himself for the coming explanation. When he had her full attention he startet:
"Listen, this has to go fast now. First we have to clean the wound with the tincture. Then I take the knife," his eyes glided over to the fire, where the now glowing blade lay between the dancing flames and waited for its cruel use
"and scorch over the wound edges as good as possible. Understood?" Anna nodded.
"Then you pour some more of the tincture over it" and added with a hint of dark humour: "Not too parsimonious."

Then his eyes became serious again and at the next words he locked eyes with her.
"Should I pass out, you have to go on. Simply rinse out the wound, and cover with bandages, that should be enough for now. Do not try to infuse me with water or anything else. I could choke on it. It's good if I lie on my right side, then the shoulder is free and I'm not hindered from breathing."

Anna could hardly believe what he said. As he talked so completely factually about his own ordeal, she was confused until she realized that this was all within the bounds of possibility, yes, that Aramis firmly expected to loose consciousness in this procedure.
Had he experienced this all too often with comrades in his care and therefore knew so exactly what was going to happen?
"Aramis, I ..." she began, but he interrupted her and his voice became even more serious.

His next words were chosen carefully
"Should my heart stop beating, Anna," horrified by his words, she slipped away from his grasp.
"No, Anna, this is important." He insisted.
"Should I die, leave me here." She stared at him incredulously.
"The others will find me later and give me a dignified burial. But first you need to get yourself to safety."

He spoke faster and more determinedly.
"Take the horses, and ride back to Paris. Seek refuge in the garrison. Athos, Porthos and D'Artagnan will be there. Tell them what happened."

He paused and looked deep into her eyes. Seconds passed while with his blood life itself flowed steadily out of him. And since he sensed and feared that his time had come and he missed the last chance to say it, to let her know it, Aramis summed up all his heart and said what he wanted to say since their first meeting:
"I love you, Anna."

Then they kissed. Aramis felt his hands start to shake again. His time had ran out if he did not take that last, tiny chance to save himself. They parted, and without another word, Aramis reached for the blade, pulled it out of the fire, held it for a moment in trembling hands, quarreled, feared, his insides screamed ... then he felt the knife was gently taken out of hand.

A solid piece of leather was pushed between his teeth, he bit thankfully, closed his eyes and felt her lips against his forehead. He sent all his thoughts, all his striving, all his being to this point on his forehead, still felt her lips, even after their delicious touch had disconnected. And screamed as an outrages pain ran through his shoulder, his body, his heart.

His eyes widened, Annas tear-stained face blurred, then darkness rushed at him from all sides, tearing him, drown him, envelop him, and wolf him completely. Aramis, musketeer of the king, fighter, believer and healer, friend of all musketeers and lover of Anna, Queen of France, lost himself in deep unconsciousness.

* Royal Palace of Valladolid: The Royal Palace of Valladolid was the official residence of the Kings of Spain during the period between 1601 and 1606. Anna Maria Mauricia from Austria – (spanish: Ana de Austria, french: Anne d'Autriche) was born there on the 22nd Septembre 1601.