Yes, I'm still alice and active! Just a little bit busy at the moment.

"Captain! Captain!"
Athos looked up from the fire as a young soldier came up running to him and raised warily as the boy had finally reached him.

"The prisoner-" the soldier gasped for air after his run from the tent through the whole camp, "the prisoner tried to escape. We've caught him. The General had been informed also."

"You've informed Girard?" Athos didn't raise his voice, but the icy look in his eyes was enough to force the soldier a step back. "Weren't we supposed to? I'm sorry, Captain. We thought –" Athos lifted his hand to signal the soldier to stop as he sighed. "It's okay. Dismissed." The soldier ran of as fast as possible, glad to have escaped a tirade from the Captain.

D'Artagnan and Porthos, who had listened to the conversation from where they sat around the fire, stood up and followed Athos, who had already taken off towards where they held Aramis. "What did he think?" He muttered, angrily. His fury grew stronger as he saw Girard entering the tent only moments before they reached it.

Once inside, they found Aramis sitting on the floor, bound and struggling. Athos frowned. Aramis hadn't tried to escape before, didn't even seem to think about it. Why now? Why so suddenly?

Girard had crouched before the prisoner, asking him questions the others couldn't hear. But as before – Aramis stayed silent, even though he didn't seem as composed as before. He groaned in frustration as he noticed that his ropes wouldn't give in.

Girard stood up and turned toward the Captain. "I will take him back to my men. Yours don't seem capable of guarding him."

Athos heard Porthos growl behind him but didn't pay it much attention as he turned his focus towards Girard. "I will make sure to find the ones responsible for this, but the prisoner will stay here. We will place more guards around the tent and two men will always be with him."

"He's still my prisoner, Captain Athos. I already did you a favour as I allowed you to take him. As we saw, it was a mistake to trust you or your 'musketeers'." He signalled the soldiers, that had came with him, to take Aramis. Athos shot a short glance towards the prisoner, as he was freed from the post and secured between the soldiers. Aramis struggled again. As he noticed that he wouldn't get free any time soon, he sighed. For one moment Athos caught the man's eyes and believed to have seen something in them, as if Aramis was begging him to do something. He frowned, still unsure what was going on in the Spaniards mind but he decided to give him one more chance – he still wanted to know what the man's plans were. "I said: He stays." Athos repeated, and to underline his words, d'Artagnan and Porthos took a step forward – ready to take Aramis from the other men's grips.

"Why are you so interested in this man, Captain?" Girard now asked, his voice laced with distrust.

"We've found a musketeer who speaks some spanish. He's on patrol right now but will come back in a few hours. I don't believe to have heard of spanish speaking soldiers under your command, if I remember correctly, General. So, if you want answers and information, he stays with us. You can join the interrogation if you like."

Athos didn't miss the hateful look Girard shot him, but actually didn't mind about it much. It was a satisfying feeling as the General was defeated, Athos' reasoning was flawless. "Fine. I will visit you this evening and hope that your man has returned from patrol until then."

"He will." Athos assured and watched the General leave before he turned to Aramis who now stood in the tent, hands still bound behind his back.

"You owe me something." Athos growled, as Porthos and d'Artagnan secured Aramis again to the post. "Of whom did you speak Athos? The spanish speaking musketeer?" Porthos asked interested, as he didn't know of a man like this.

"We have none." The Captain glared at Aramis, who had let his head fall to his chest in exhaustion. Athos crouched before him, and really had to hold himself back to not slap him. "Now talk. Why did you try to escape? Why now?"

Aramis opened his mouth, ready to answer – he had to tell them now if he wanted his plan to succeed, he knew. But then he closed his mouth again, shaking his head. He still heard guards talking outside, and as long he was able to hear them, they could hear him too.

"Talk." Athos hissed and grabbed him by the collar, forcing Aramis to lift his head. His patience was at it's end. "Talk or I will send you to Girard immediately."

And Aramis really wanted to, but he couldn't risk anything. He looked around the room, as he searched for a save way, until he saw paper and a feather lying on the table. He nodded towards it. "Free his hand." The first who understood, d'Artagnan fetched the writing materials. Athos had done as told as d'Artagnan kneeled beside him and gave Aramis the utensils.

I'll talk, when we're all alone.

Athos showed the paper to the others before he cut the ropes around the post. "If this is a trick, I will kill you." He warned and there was no doubt that he didn't mean it. Aramis nod, before he was manhandled by Porthos and d'Artagnan. Once outside the tent they pushed him forwards roughly.

Aramis stumbled a few times as he was lead through the camp, feeling the eyes of the soldiers on him. They brought him into the forest, a mile away from the camp.

"Now talk." Athos didn't even think on freeing the man from the ropes around his wrists, as long as he couldn't be sure on which side Aramis was. At least Porthos and d'Artagnan loosened their grips, letting Aramis relax a little bit.

The Spaniard took a look around, just to be sure that they were alone before he let out a long breath.

"It's complicated and I can't tell you everything."

"Just tell us everything you can."

"There's a spanish spy between our – between your rows." The three men exchanged a short, surprised look but didn't interrupt Aramis. "It was at the beginning of the war, as the king summoned me into the palace."

He couldn't deny the feeling of unease – even fear – that took over his body, as he walked along the endless seeming corridor. His leathered boots on the marble ground, the screeching of the tall doors as they were opened, sounds that were so familiar after years in the service of France, but now they seemed different – frightening.

The moment the message had reached him, his stomach had twisted and his mind couldn't stop turning around all the reasons why the king wanted to see him alone. He gulped as he walked into the throne room, seeing the King looking at him with an icy stare.

"Your Majesty." Aramis bowed, deep and long, before he dared to straighten back up and looked at the king.

"Musketeer Aramis." Louis tipped his fingers on the armrest while his eyes roamed over the soldier. Endless seconds until he waved Aramis to come closer.

Carefully Aramis stepped closer, only a few steps. He gulped again, as blood rushed through his ears. What was all of this about?

"I've seen the looks. Between the Queen and you. Don't you think I'm a fool, I know you've betrayed me."

Aramis opened his mouth, he felt as if he should say something to defend himself, but no words left his dry tongue. His mind was empty as the king raised, walked down the three steps to look him right into the eyes.

"I should hang you. No. This wouldn't be painful enough. I should strip you to the wheel. Let her watch, while her champion screams. Yes, I should do that."

Frantically Aramis searched for arguments, for reasons, for words – but there were none. The king was right, but he couldn't allow it to happen.

He felt as if his heart would jump out of his chest any moment and was sure that the King heard it too, the pounding, the fear. Louis grinned, in a way that let Aramis' blood freeze.

"But I won't. Not yet."

"Your Majesty-" He thought he HAD to say something, anything. But Louis raised his hand to silence him.

"I need a heir and Louis will be my son. Not yours, never. He's mine, just as Anne. I can't let anybody doubt his parentage. So I will let you live as long as you're of use."

"I will always be your loyal servant." Aramis bowed his head slightly.

"Oh, you have no other choice, do you?" The King turned around and sat back down on his throne, watching Aramis from above.

"I have a mission four you, Musketeer Aramis. You speak spanish don't you? You at least look like a spanish rat." Aramis gulped, but nodded slowly.

"My mother had spanish blood." He answered truthfully.

"Good. Before I tell you about the details of the mission, you should know that you have no choice. Either you will do it or I will let you die on the wheel for treason. And I will find a way for your friends to follow you. If you disobey my orders or tell anyone from this, you and all of those you love, will be eliminated."

Aramis nod, as he waited for the King to continue.

"No one can know about this. We know that there's a spy in between the Musketeers. We know that you're not the one. It will be your mission to find out who he is. As our investigators in France were unsuccessful, you will have to infiltrate the Spanish. Get the information we need, and I will acquit you from your crimes. If not – you already know what will happen. Don't tell any one about this, as every Musketeer is under suspicion. Even your friends. Especially this farmboy. We've hears some rumors about him. One of my men will give you more information once you're on your way. Meet him in Toulouse in four days."

"So you didn't tell us anything because you thought we could be spies?" Porthos spat as he crossed his arms. "You really needed a proof that we're innocent before you trusted us with this?"

Aramis sighed and let his head drop to his chest. "I couldn't risk anything, Porthos. It was too much at risk."

"You did what you had to do." Athos answered, understandingly. But his thoughts were already somewhere else, as he planned how they would act now.

"He could have told us!" Porthos turned to his Captain, fury laced his voice at the betrayal of his brother.

"Porthos-" Aramis tried again, but was silenced as the big man shoved him against a nearby tree, forcing the air out of his lungs. "You lied to us. Told us you would become a monk. You distrusted us, betrayed us."

"I only wanted-"

"You only wanted what was best for you. I know. It's always about what you want." Porthos pressed his arm harder against Aramis' chest before he let go and strode back towards Athos and d'Artagnan.

"What do we do now?" The Gascon asked.

Of course Aramis already had a plan, and Athos had one too. Neither Porthos, nor d'Artagnan were amused.