Hello everyone. This chapter was finished last night so I apologise if it seems a little rushed. I wanted to get it out on time.

I hope you enjoy it. :)

Chapter Thirty-Seven

The Duke stared at Tréville in disbelief. The King had ordered his arrest?

'What for?' he spat.

'Treason,' Tréville said stoically.

'You'll have to explain it to me,' the Duke glared back.

'In a moment,' Tréville walked away from the Duke and took the reloaded pistol from D'Artagnan. He opened the door to the corridor that they had entered from and walked into the hallway.

Before him there were still fights going on but there were only a few of the Duke's men left. Many were dead or injured but Tréville suspected that some had run away. He fired the pistol through the open door of one of the rooms that lined the hallway and everyone's attention turned to him.

'We have been ordered to arrest the Duke by His Majesty,' Tréville didn't shout but every man could hear him. 'Those of you who leave now will be unharmed. Continue to fight and my men will kill you. It is treason to continue your fight but it is only the Duke we want. We have him so go home and tell your colleagues to as well.'

The musketeers stood back and lowered their swords to show that they would not restart the fight and the Duke's men silently laid down their arms.

'What happens after we go home?' a young man asked.

'The Duke will be tried before His Majesty and then the estate shall be either divided or given to someone else if the Duke is found guilty,' Tréville said confidently. He knew there was no way the Duke was getting out of this. 'You will be informed of the outcome.'

The young man still looked nervous as all eyes were on him.

'Anything else?' Tréville asked with a softer tone as he looked the shaking man.

'Will we be executed for treason?' the young man asked clearly fearful of Tréville's answer. Tréville looked around at the many worried faces.

'I cannot guarantee that you won't,' he answered truthfully, 'but if you lay down your weapons now, I will ensure that His Majesty knows that you were only doing as instructed by the Duke. That you were doing your job until the circumstances were revealed. I give you my word. Go home.'

The young man looked dejected but nodded at Tréville's words and the former captain made a promise to himself to spare these men from the courts.

Tréville moved back into the room where the Duke still had Porthos glaring down at him. In the distance they could hear the musketeers rounding up the Duke's men and sending them home.

'Gabriel,' Tréville looked to the musketeer. 'Get the men together and start treating the wounded. Also organise shifts to keep a perimeter.' Gabriel nodded and left.

Porthos finally lowered the pistol he was holding and for a moment the Duke obviously thought he could relax as his face slackened. Porthos' left fist came as a surprise as the large musketeer connected with the right side of the Duke's face sending the noble flailing across the room. He was stopped by Athos and was grateful until Athos' right fist hit his left cheek and he fell to the floor.

'No D'Artagnan, you can't punch him,' Tréville sounded angry and perhaps slightly amused as the Gascon moved towards the Duke.

D'Artagnan exchanged glances with Athos and Porthos and Tréville started to speak as a realisation hit him but D'Artagnan kicked the recovering Duke, who was now kneeling, in the chest knocking the noble back to the floor again. D'Artagnan's smirk said it all as the musketeers turned to their leader.

'He didn't punch him,' Porthos quipped as Tréville held the bridge of his nose with his right forefinger and thumb.

'No, he didn't,' he sighed in despair. 'I really have to be less specific,' he muttered to himself.

All eyes turned back to the Duke who had somehow managed to kneel again after his beating.

'The King will hear of this!' he snarled as his nose started to bleed.

'Yes, he will,' Athos said seriously.

'Especially about the resistance you put up,' D'Artagnan smirked.

'Forcing us to fight back and unfortunately injure you,' Porthos growled as Vasselin entered the room and handed Porthos some rope.

Porthos the tied the Duke's hands in front of him and tied the other end to the table nearby. The Duke moved to sit rather than kneel.

'Don't go anywhere,' Porthos chirped but the Duke sent a death glare his way making Porthos chuckle. The Duke's face then turned into a grin.

'I'll never tell you where he is,' the Duke grinned. 'You'll never find his body.' He watched curiously as the men in front of him exchanged looks that he couldn't decipher.

Athos smirked slightly as the Duke recoiled from him as he knelt in front of him. The Duke recoiled further as Athos extended his hands and reached behind the Duke's neck. Athos undid the ribbon that he knew held Aramis' gift from the Queen and soon it was in his hands. He vowed he would return it to its rightful owner.

'Dead men don't need possessions,' the Duke sneered hoping to win in this battle of wills.

'True,' Athos agreed as he tied the jewelled crucifix around his neck before he stood and turned to D'Artagnan.

'You don't know, do you?' D'Artagnan asked with a grin and the Duke felt a shiver go down his spine.

'We found 'im,' Porthos growled letting the Duke know that only his restraint was stopping him from beating the Duke to a pulp. 'He's alive,' he said with more confidence than he felt.

'All your men are dead. Including Renard,' Athos said stoically.

The Duke felt himself slump at the news. Renard had promised him that Aramis would die but he remembered the musketeer's face when he left and how stubborn the man was. It was over and Aramis was still alive. He had lost.

Queen Anne made her way to her rooms and ordered the guards to stay at the far end of her chambers. She was doing her best to remain composed but the news about Aramis had been difficult to take.

'Marguerite,' she called as she entered her son's chambers.

'Your Majesty,' the governess curtseyed before the Queen.

'I am tired and do not wish to be disturbed this evening,' Anne said as strongly as she could. 'Please take care of my son as I know you are capable. I really do not want to be disturbed,' she repeated.

The governess looked slightly confused as the Queen was always available when her son needed her. 'Yes, Majesty,' she said feeling rather uncertain while also noting that Constance wasn't there to help either. She moved away to give the Queen a moment alone with her son.

Anne moved towards her son and found him lying quietly in his crib holding his favourite teddy bear. Aramis' teddy bear.

'I need you to be quiet tonight little one,' she smiled as he gripped the teddy tighter. 'I think you know why.' She picked him up and kissed his forehead and looked into his eyes. Her son's eyes were blue like hers but right now she could see Aramis staring back from them. She laid her son back down and covered him in a light blanket. He stared up at her as he started to chew on the teddy bear's ear. She would have to tell Aramis about that.

Anne swept from the room and her ladies followed as she was undressed and prepared for bed. She wanted to dismiss them as quickly as possible but she didn't want to rouse anyone's suspicions either. Once her ladies had finished she bid them goodnight and waited for their footsteps to recede.

She reached into the back of one of her many wardrobes and found the box that only she and Constance were really aware of. They contained the clothes she had used to visit Emilie and Anne tried to remember how to put them on. It took longer than she predicted but she surmised she looked good enough and the more askew the clothes were the less likely anyone would believe she was the Queen.

She placed her hand on the door to leave and was reminded of the last time she had worn these clothes. She had put her own life at risk as well as Constance's when she entered Emilie's camp. Already there was Aramis and she realised that she had been stupid to think the musketeers wouldn't have a plan. Thankfully, Aramis had brought her back but not before he had chastised his Queen for her recklessness. She smiled at the thought as she remembered his lips on hers and how good it felt to kiss him again. She had longed for another moment and of course Constance had caught them. Constance would not betray her and Aramis. She was sure of that.

Constance was tired but knew she couldn't stop. Aramis' temperature was still too high but he had woken and although he had no idea where he was or who she was, she did manage to get him to drink some of the honeyed water before he collapsed again.

She saw that as a victory. She continued to try and keep him cool but she knew she couldn't do it all night. The cadets were pretty much useless and she didn't know any of them. She considered asking Joubert but she knew the man was still suffering from his own ordeal.

She sighed as she was determined that she would stay awake as long as possible. Aramis looked pale and gaunt and not how he normally looked. She was starting to understand why it took three of them to look after him and why they had been so worried about leaving him. She needed help.

The Duke's men had retreated without fuss and the injured musketeers were being tended too. Even the Inseparables had some scrapes and tried to ignore them before Tréville pointed out that Aramis would be scowling if he could see them. It had the desired effect as the scrapes that the Inseparables 'hadn't noticed' were cleaned and dressed.

Tréville wandered over to the Duke and saw that the man wasn't asleep. He was still tied to the table but one of the musketeers had given him a cushion to lay his head on. A luxury that he didn't really deserve but Tréville didn't want to anger him too much as he also suspected the Duke wasn't happy about his earlier beating.

'I hear you are no longer Captain?' the Duke sneered as Tréville approached. The Duke sat up as much as his restraints allowed.

'No, I'm not,' Tréville replied with no emotion in his voice.

'Must be hard...to have served so long and be dismissed,' the Duke watched Tréville carefully.

'The King was disappointed and rightly so,' Tréville could see the mirth in the Duke's eyes and would not be baited.

'He was not the rightful King!' the Duke spat back. 'But you already know that. That child that died was the rightful King and you were part of his death and covering it all up.'

'Marie de Medici failed in her coup to take what wasn't hers,' Tréville remained stone-faced.

'You lied to the King and did not tell him that his mother tried to depose him again,' the Duke looked positively gleeful at this. 'I wonder how disappointed he will be when he learns the truth about his precious musketeers and the man that killed a defenceless baby.'

Tréville swallowed hard as he realised that if the Duke told the truth he would either be forced to lie again or admit to Louis that he had lied about his mother. The truth from the Duke's lips would make far more sense in why he had attacked Aramis as it was Aramis that staged the death.

The Duke was smirking now as though he had won.

'I think you should worry about your own fate,' Tréville said quietly. 'Yes, you may cause problems for me and the Musketeers but you still ordered your men to kidnap the Queen and took Aramis prisoner. You tortured a member of the King's guard and the King takes that very personally.' Maybe a slight exaggeration but it had the effect that Tréville had wanted as the Duke scowled.

'Much more important would be your knowledge of the traitor in His Majesty's court,' Tréville continued.

'If I go down so will he,' the Duke's response pleased Tréville but he did not show it. 'And I will take down every musketeer I can. Aramis may wish he never survived his torture.' The Duke lay down and turned his back on Tréville while the former Captain wondered if anything else could possibly go against them.

Queen Anne looked around her chambers and carefully walked past her son's room as she knew Lady Marguerite was still in there. She spotted the stairs that led to the servants' areas and quickly descended. At this time of night it was relatively quiet as most of the servants were tidying up or preparing for tomorrow. She messed her hair up slightly to try and hide her face and no-one bothered to look up. After all who would think to look for the Queen in this part of the palace? She didn't know her way very well but she quickly found the exit she was looking for.

She moved towards the stables that held horses for the servants who lived away from the palace to use. This mainly included servants who had families and lived within Paris. The red guards on duty took no notice of her as she struggled with the saddle and reins. She loved horses and had spent a lot of time with them when she was in Spain. Her father had disapproved but he also loved his daughter enough to let her ride more often than was deemed acceptable for a princess. It had, however, been a long time since she had saddled a horse and she was struggling.

'Can I help you?' came pleasant voice from behind her. A young man in his late twenty's stood before her. He had dark brown hair and eyes. She was momentarily reminded of Aramis.

'Yes, that would be very helpful,' she blushed and kept her head down. The man didn't appear to notice.

'You chose a good one here,' he patted the horse after he finished saddling her and had got the reins in place. 'I normally take her,' he smiled.

'If she's yours then-'

He waved away her protest. 'Other people use these horses so don't worry 'bout it.' He looked at her slightly disbelievingly as if he finally noticed who he was addressing. 'What's your name?'

'Constance,' she blurted out before she could think about it. She hoped Constance wouldn't mind.

'Jean,' he held his hand out and she shook it. 'Hope to see you about Constance.'

'And you,' she said back as he disappeared to saddle his own horse. She wasn't sure he was convinced by her lie but there was no time to dwell on it. She found a stool and mounted. The horse didn't seem at all worried about its new rider. She moved the mare forward and smiled slightly as she realised Constance would probably laugh when she told her that she had used her name.

Anne suddenly became aware of the fact that she had not visited the Musketeer garrison for many years and was not entirely sure of the way. She was also aware that she was completely exposed in the dark on the streets of Paris and she hadn't thought to bring any kind of weapon. Perhaps this wasn't a good idea after all.

She continued on her way and finally realised she was going to have to ask for directions. There were plenty of drunk men around and she really didn't fancy getting their attention.

'Hey love,' one shouted as he ambled over to her. 'You look nice.' He was clearly drunk and had spilled ale down his front. 'Where you heading?'

'The Musketeer garrison,' she replied as steadily as she could. 'Do you know it?'

'Aye,' he stumbled. 'Got a date wiv a musketeer have yer?'

'Yes,' she smiled. 'And I'd rather not be late.' She was used to sounding confident when she wasn't and right now she was terrified.

'Well...it's that way,' he pointed ahead, 'and then to the left. If you got time, come back for me. Eh?' he winked and Anne did her best to smile and nod. She hoped she wouldn't meet him on her way back.

She continued as he had directed and found the Musketeer garrison gates in front of her. She dismounted and was approached by a rather nervous looking cadet. She hadn't seen him before so she hoped he would not recognise her.

'Your business here?' he asked as she kept he head down and didn't make eye contact.

'Doctor said there was an ill man here,' she said quietly and tried to make her voice less noble-like.

'He's in the infirmary,' the cadet pointed at the building and took the horse from her.

Anne made directly towards the infirmary and hesitated as she placed her hand on the door. She had come all this way and now she was scared of what she would find.

The musketeers had commandeered some mattresses and pillows from around the Duke's home. The Inseparables had taken the first shift of guard duty and were now making their way back to the room which held the Duke to sleep. They had chosen to sleep in the same room as the Duke which had a rather large fireplace and was a very warm room. Tréville had made sure that their guard duty was the shortest as he was fully aware that none of the men had managed to sleep well while they worried about Aramis.

It took rather a stern talking to from Tréville to get them to rest and although they wouldn't sleep much he had at least got them to lie down on a shared mattress. Tréville himself was tired and trusted in his men to keep everything in order as he shut his eyes.

The Inseparables lay on the same mattress and all of them could feel each other's tension. Porthos had told the Duke that Aramis was alive and that had been true when they had left but they had no way of knowing if that was still the case. Aramis had been weak when they left and the look in their brother's eyes as they walked out the door showed that Aramis wasn't sure if he would see them again either.

Athos, resourceful as ever, had found a bottle of wine that was a very good vintage and had offered some to Porthos and D'Artagnan. The wine though could not stop their thoughts. D'Artagnan drifted off to sleep first and was quickly followed by Porthos. Athos finished the bottle of wine and finally drifted off to give his exhausted body the rest it needed.

He didn't sleep for long as he woke and found himself feeling like something was missing, or someone. Athos turned around to find only D'Artagnan to his left. Porthos was gone. Athos sat up and scoured the room. Tréville was asleep by the hearth and the Duke was also breathing steadily indicating sleep. Athos quietly got up and moved towards Vasselin who was guarding the room.

'Where's Porthos?' he asked his colleague quietly.

'Got up 'bout ten minutes ago,' Vasselin replied. 'Maybe gone to find a chamber pot?'

'I'm going to look for him,' Athos left as Vasselin nodded.

Athos couldn't think why Porthos would disappear or where he would go. They could only have slept an hour, if that. Athos heard a small noise coming from the end of the hall and realised that it was the likely location of the mansion's chapel. Porthos had little time for religion but Aramis was a true believer.

The door was slightly ajar and Athos could see a candle lit in the moonlight coming in from the window. Athos could see a dark shape unmoving in the front row. He moved quietly but not stealthily as he didn't want Porthos to panic.

'How d'you find me?' Porthos baritone voice floated across to Athos as he approached.

'Followed my gut,' Athos replied as Porthos shifted over for his brother to sit down. In Porthos' hands was Aramis' blue sash.

'Thought he wouldn't mind,' Porthos said as he saw Athos looking. 'Just needed a bit of him with me,' he smiled ruefully.

'At least you didn't get blood on it,' Athos smiled slightly.

'Yeah,' Porthos smiled warmly. 'How many of these has he destroyed to save us?'

'Too many,' Athos sighed.

'Felt like he was with me,' Porthos had tears in his eyes but Athos didn't comment.

'That's why I was determined to get this back,' Athos brought Aramis' crucifix out from beneath his leathers and scarf. 'Have him with me. With us.'

'And here I thought I was the only one who stole something of his,' D'Artagnan's voice startled Athos and Porthos who hadn't heard the young man approach. D'Artagnan grinned at their reaction and was holding the feather from Aramis' hat in his right hand.

'We didn't steal,' Porthos insisted.

'We borrowed,' Athos rectified.

They shuffled again to make room for their youngest and D'Artagnan sighed as he took his place beside Athos. Silence held them for a few moments before Porthos spoke.

'Was going to try prayin' for him...but I have no idea where to start,' he said bitterly. 'No such thing as God in the Court.'

'You know I gave up on that after everything that happened,' Athos didn't need to explain and he was grateful.

'My mother was very religious but after she died my dad turned his back on it and I never really saw a reason to start again,' D'Artagnan said quietly.

'We can't even do that for him,' Porthos let the tears falls as he bowed his head. Athos placed an arm around the big man's shoulders.

'Yes, we can,' Athos said quietly. 'Aramis has always believed that God hears everybody, even if his answer is no.'

'True,' D'Artagnan said quietly.

'Here,' Athos held Aramis' crucifix in his palm and Porthos and D'Artagnan both reached out on placed a finger on it.

'Dear Lord,' Athos started, 'we know the three of us have no right to ask anything of you, but we hope that you hear our prayer for our brother Aramis who truly believes in your ways. We ask that you give him the courage and strength to recover from his healing wounds and that he knows that we are thinking of him.'

'That we love him,' Porthos choked out.

'That we miss him,' D'Artagnan added.

'And that he will not be alone, whatever his fate,' Athos finished.

'Amen,' they chorused.

A/N: For those of you worried about a lack of Aramis in this chapter he will be back in the next one. :) I know the idea of the Queen getting out of the palace unnoticed is slightly far-fetched but please indulge me. :)

I love to read to read your thoughts.