Another one of my favorite episodes. Tell me what you think! Thanks for all the amazing and kind reviews so far.

Please, make sure to tell me ideas for a new title for this story. I truly don't know what it should be. Also, if you guys want to see a continuation of this chapter, please tell me, and I'll think about writing something. No promises though ;)

Anyway, enjoy! I think I did really well with this one!

-M


Chapter 7: Trial and Punishment

Aramis tried to hard to get out of his chains. He struggled, and struggled, and struggled … until he couldn't take the pain in his wrists anymore. He sunk to the ground, throwing his head against the wall.

In a few hours, night had fallen, the cold seeping into the dank prison and through Aramis' bones. And then, a little while later … Rochefort, and a couple of guards, walked into his cell.

Rochefort smiled when he saw his prisoner shaking with cold. He kneeled down, took a fistful of Aramis' hair, and forced the man to look at him. Aramis glared at him, but his eyes were weak, and he knew it.

"Are you going to kill me?" he said, looking straight into his captor's cold eyes.

The mad man laughed, and it brought shivers to Aramis' spine. "Quite the contrary," he said, his finger traveling from Aramis' hair to his chin. Aramis flinched away. Rochefort easily took him by his hair, forcing him to look at him again. "I am going to destroy you. And then, when you are too weak to even make a run for it, the wheel will finish the job. So … let's begin, shall we?"

"You're insane!" Aramis yelled, thrashing against his chains. "You will never get away with this!"
"In the condition you will be in, I will most definitely get away with this," Rochefort replied, grinning.

He walked over to a guard, who was holding a strange box. Rochefort opened it … and took out a whip.

Aramis felt his eyes open wide, and he couldn't hold a panicked gasp. "You bastard," he whispered.

"What was that, Aramis?" Rochefort teased, knowing exactly what he had said.

"You bastard!" Aramis cried out, beginning to struggle again.

Two guards walked up to him and held him, their grips incredibly strong.

Rochefort took out a knife from his weapon's belt, and used it to cut open Aramis' shirts.

The Musketeer felt the tip of the weapon slice his skin; he held in a quiet moan.

Soon enough, Aramis was shirtless, and Rochefort was practicing with the offending weapon he was holding. Every time Aramis heard the deafening crack of that whip, he winced.

"Now," Rochefort finally said. "Let's start."

He raised his hand and brought it down right above Aramis.

The poor man tensed when he felt the first hit. He took in a sharp breath, but refused to scream.

Another hit.

This time, Aramis whimpered. The men standing on each side of him smiled and tightened their holds on their target.

Oh the fifth hit, Aramis cried out. His breathing hitched, and he hung his head, biting his lip. He felt steadily blood falling down his back.

Rochefort laughed. "I'm going to make you scream, Aramis," he said. "I'm going to make you scream for what you and the Queen did. She was supposed to be mine."

"The Queen will never … love you," Aramis managed to say after another hit. "She sees … you as a monster … she will never love … you.

At those words, Rochefort roared in rage and hit Aramis so hard, the end of the whip unexpectedly curled around Aramis' shoulder, biting his skin.

This time, Aramis screamed. He began to breath heavily, each gasp of air cut off by the next hit. "I … love her!" he finally yelled. "And if that … means dying for her … then I will happily do it."

Rochefort hit Aramis one more time, the anger radiating off of him. "Let him down," he growled.

The guards obeyed, releasing Aramis.

The man collapsed onto the ground, trembling. He curled into himself, moaning.

"You will be executed tomorrow," Rochefort said. "Before that, I will return and continue what we have started. For now, I suggest you get some rest."

He kicked Aramis for good measure. The poor man screamed, trying hard not to pass out from the pain. "I will make you pay," he said. "I swear to God I will make you pay."

Without saying anything else, Rochefort and his guards left.

Aramis doubled over, cursing and coughing. Pain consumed him, making it hard to breath. Everything was spinning, and tears were glazed over his eyes. He slowly began to drift into sleep, and soon couldn't feel anything.

XxXxX

After another torture session, Aramis was left alone for a few hours until he heard a rustling noise. He tensed, as if waiting for Rochefort to come in.

But it wasn't him who came in. It was Milady.

When she saw him, she gasped, running over to him. "This is not for you, it's for Athos," she quickly said.

"I still owe … you my thanks," Aramis said weakly.

It took over an hour to get Aramis to the safe house his friends were using. When she got him in, they all rushed over to their comrade. They didn't even know that Milady had left.

"Oh God, what did that bastard do to you?" Porthos gasped, looking at Aramis' whip lashes.

Aramis just groaned, falling to the ground.

He was carried to a bed, and then Athos, Porthos, and d'Artagnan began mending Aramis' wounds. It was painful for all of them, but in two hours, they finally finished and left Aramis to rest.

"I can't believe Rochefort would do that," d'Artagnan said, his hand on his forehead.

"Well he did," Athos replied. "And he would have kept going if not for the execution."
"What are we going to do?"

"We are going to finish this once and for all," Porthos said. "We are going to avenge Aramis, if it's the last thing we do."

They all looked at the sleeping man on the bed, who was shivering violently. A silent agreement passed between the three of them.

"For Aramis," Porthos said.

"For Aramis," Athos and d'Artagnan repeated.

XxXxX

By the time Aramis woke up, Rochefort had been defeated. Although he didn't know it.

He found himself lying in a bed with the Queen at his bedside. When she saw him, she cried out, reaching for his hand.

"You're awake," she said.

"Rochefort?" he asked immediately, gasping in pain.

Anne placed her hand on his arm. "He's dead, Aramis," she replied. "And our secret is now safe again."

"The others?"

"They are with the King."

The man sighed with relief, closing his eyes. "I shouldn't have done this to you," he whispered. "I should have stopped before I let it go too far … which it did … this is all my-"

He was cut off when Anne placed her lips on his. He forgot all about what he had been saying and began to kiss her back, his hand squeezing her own.

"I'm sorry," he finally said."

"This is not your fault," the Queen assured him. "I love you, I truly do. And no matter what, I will always be by your side."

Aramis kissed her again. "Thank you," he murmured in her ear.

Anne pulled away. "Now, you need some rest," she said. "I will be right here."

The Musketeer nodded. "Alright."

She helped him back under the covers, wincing at his every remark of pain. The minute he got comfortable, Aramis closed his eyes and fell asleep again, feeling Anne's hand gliding up his arm.