I know, I'm unforgivable.

Still, I resumed to write this story It will be slow, but I am going to finish this.

Thank you to everyone still out there reading, and, to new readers, welcome into this journey

Happy (?) reading!

Chapter 5

There was no time to waste.

They needed to find a lead, any lead, to make a step forward finding their friends, but first, D'Artagnan had to arrange the funerals of his men. It was the first time he lost so many soldiers at once, here in Paris.

Luckily Brujon had not been with them that day. He had woken up with high fever and a huge headache which made him fall during morning muster and Constance had sent him to bed.

He usually didn't have preferences among the Musketeers, but the boy had been his first recruit, and one of the few survivors of the attack of five years ago.

He was a loyal man, and had become his second-in-command very soon after.

There were so many things to do, and he was forced to ask for his help. Now, D'Artagnan was standing just outside the soldier's quarters, steeling himself before dropping on him the bad news.

He knocked slightly and waited for the young voice to call him in. When he stepped into the room, he signaled Brujon to stay where he was, tucked under his covers.

"How are you?" he asked softly, careful not to hurt his head even more. "And I want the truth", he commanded gently.

"Been better," the young soldier answered "What happened?"

D'Artagnan was startled by the question, but then he remembered exactly why, among all the more experienced Musketeers, he had chosen him as his second. He sighed and sat on the chair near the bed, resting his forearms on his legs and crossing his fingers together. "That bad?"

He slowly nodded, before updating him. As he finished, he had to stop the sick boy from rising.

"You need my help," he protested as D'Artagnan forced him back on the mattress.

"You're right. I need you to coordinate the remaining men into a palace guard, as if nothing has happened. You can do this without leaving your bed, and this is how you will do it, is that clear?"

"Clear," he answered, recognizing one of the few orders he had ever received from his Captain.

"Okay. You will choose a man, and work with him, so that he can help you. I want you to do your best, but without killing yourself."

"Yes, Captain." Then he remembered "Is Constance okay? Has she been hurt?"

"She is okay," D'Artagnan smiled. "Ready to kick your ass".

Brujon smiled, relieved. The Captain knew he liked and respected Constance as much as he respected him, if not even more. She had been the one who found him and took him to the Garrison, giving him hope of a new life when he felt he had nothing left in this world after his parents' death.

"I should really go right now, I have to arrange for the funerals and notify the families"

"I could do it for you, D'Artagnan," the younger man offered "I can do it without leaving my room"

"I appreciate that, I really do, but it is something I have to do myself."

"You could only sign them, they will never know."

"You and I would. Really, thank you, but focus on guarding the palace and your healing. If you need any help, fetch me at any time."

"Will do. And Captain?"

D'Artagnan turned, with his hand already on the door, listening to what his soldier had to say.

"I really hope we find them, very soon. And don't worry, Aramis will be alright. You know him."

D'Artagnan's heart warmed at those words. This young boy was the best he could hope for, and he made a note to make him an example for everyone who would arrive at the Garrison hoping for a commission. He felt the huge need of lighting the mood.

"That's what I am worried about. His damn tongue," he managed to smile as he waved his goodbye and left the room.

Guard duty was now granted.

He returned to his office and sat on the chair where Treville used to sit, and Athos after him. Now, more than ever, he felt how heavy the burden as a commander was.

He retrieved a paper from his desk and began to write his condolences to Jean Luc's family, and he found himself sobbing in sorrow and anger as he recalled his soldier's career from the day he showed up at the garrison, barely able to keep a sword in hand, up until now.

D'Artagnan remembered how hard he had worked to catch up with the other more skilled recruits. He had put so much effort, literally working night and day, and now, a few months later, he was dead.

He felt a strong and at the same time tender hand squeezing the back of his neck.

"They died protecting the King, D'Artagnan." Porthos' voice was soft, but firm. "He accepted the risk the moment he put his feet into the Garrison."

"He was just a kid!" he replied bitterly, almost shouting at his friend.

"As we all were," was the reply, "You were barely more than a kid too, when you joined us. You accepted the risk way before gaining your commission, if I remember correctly."

"I… was not… like him."

"No one is like you" Porthos agreed, then smiled "Thanks, God. You risked our life since day one. You were reckless, and we passed half the time worrying about you. Hell, Treville paced this office so much any time you were on a mission that Aramis was convinced that some day or another he would create a rift."

D'Artagnan managed a smile which was a curious mix between shame and pride. He was perfectly aware of his nature. Head over heart. How many times Athos had tried to drum that into his stubborn head? Hell, he wasn't so sure he fully managed that even right now, no matter if it was the first thing he taught his recruits.

Sometimes, he still was the young Gascon who wanted to kill Athos and challenged Aramis and Porthos when they tried to stop him.

"But you know what, D'Artagnan?" he lifted his head when Porthos talked, "Even if we worried about you, we swore never to keep you back, because you still are one of the best soldiers I have ever met, even if you tried to kill us all during the war. We accepted that you put your life at risk any time you went on a mission, before, and after your commission. You should not cry because of how he died. You should hunt down the killer and make him regret crossing the path of the King's Musketeers. Only after that can you cry because you miss him."

D'Artagnan knew Porthos was right. Right now, they didn't have time for crying over their fallen comrades.

The should bury them and start the researches for Aramis and their sovereigns. Still, he couldn't avoid the images of his Musketeers crossing his mind.

"D'Artagnan," Porthos lifted his chin with his fingers until their eyes met.

"I know. I know." He wiped his eyes to wash away the still forming tears "Just let me finish this and then…"

()()()()

"No. You are giving wrong priorities"

Pothos knew he was being harsh, but right now it was what D'Artagnan needed from him.

The Gascon turned towards him, with a strange gaze into his eyes. Porthos knew him too well right now to just impose his point of view. His friend needed to be guided into the right direction.

"Bear with me, lad, okay?" he proposed "Just listen to me and try and think with me, then you can do whatever you want. You are in charge, but just listen. Okay?"

"Okay".

Porthos took a minute to elaborate how to not freak D'Artagnan out.

"Which is the main event here?"

The young man looked at him as if he had gone crazy.

"My Musketeers have been killed"

"Focus, D'Artagnan!" he chided him, maybe a little too harshly than he intended, but he really was focusing on the wrong thing. Athos would have probably already kicked his ass or something by now.

"But they…"

"D'Artagnan!" he almost shouted "Focus on the living ones! Which is the main event?"

He saw his eyes growing wide as he realized he was making a huge mistake. Porthos inwardly smiled.

"The… Queen. We… we have to find them!"

"There you are!" he congratulated. "You will have time tonight to write those letters. Constance has arranged for the bodies to be brought to the Garrison and the funerals. Right now, we have to go back to the Louvre and find out who helped them in. Let's move. Now."

The Louvre was empty. It had been a while since the last time Porthos went there, but nothing had changed.

He noticed a new portrait of King Louis XIV, and he looked at it for a moment, The artist had been a very good one, he could almost recognize something of Aramis in the painted face of the King, even if, luckily, most of his features came from his mother.

D'Artagnan greeted the two Musketeers who had just relieved the ones he had appointed. Porthos noticed his friend's approval about the choices made by Brujon.

Constance guided them to the Queen's rooms, where D'Artagnan had found her. If she was shaken by her memories, she didn't let it show.

She described the attack, helping herself through the rooms.

"They knew this passage," she explained, showing them the still open hidden door. "As you can see," she continued, closing it "It's completely invisible."

"Who knows about this door?" D'Artagnan asked, and Porthos was relieved to see his head was in the game.

"Me, the Queen, her ladies-in-waiting…and probably Aramis. Don't ask."

"Better not," D'Artagnan commented.

"No one else?" Porthos prompted "Are you sure? The King?"

"The former King knew. And Rochefort." She remembered how he had attacked the Queen right before he died. "Louis does not know yet."

"The problem is that, except you, everyone else is dead or missing. We do not have anything." D'Artagnan sighed. "The most probable possibility is that someone has seduced one of the ladies-in-waiting and convinced her to betray the king."

"Or forced," Constance muttered, barely audible.

"What?" Porthos asked.

"Now that I think about it, one of the girls, Aurore, if I remember correctly, seemed to be very nervous, almost scared when she saw me…"

"Did you know her well?"

"No…I was so busy with the garrison…I am sorry."

'Don't be, Constance." Porthos surrounded her shoulders with his arms and pulled her to him "You can't be everywhere, and we both know who is truly commanding the Garrison." He winked and that made her smile.

"Hey!" D'Artagnan protested, but smiling. "Anyway...let's try questioning Aurore's friends, maybe they will know something more about her and give us the lead we are looking for."

()()()()

The bloody kid was screaming. Again.

Since they had left him with that damn Musketeer, he had begun to cry at the beginning, and then shouting at him to wake up.

After a while, worried that they had killed him, they went checking on him. He was unconscious, but still alive.

"Qualcuno lo faccia tacere, per amor di Dio!" (For God's sake, someone make him stop!), the exasperate man shouted in Italian, his mother language.

His companions looked at him, as aking how exactly should they find a solution. The kid was probably scared, or just whimsical, and not even their menacing had stopped him for long.

"Forse la madre…" (Maybe his mother…) the younger one proposed shyly. He was the less expert of them.

The boss looked at him, then nodded. The kid's voice was giving him a powerful headache, and if being with the Spanish whore would shut him up, he was willing to try.

"Proviamo," (Let's try), he agreed,and got up from his chair "Ma non una parola con il duca" (But not a word to the Duke about this).

The younger one nodded and together they went to the Queen's cell. They didn't really understand why their instigator had been so adamant about keeping them separated this way, but what he didn't know, didn't hurt, and if this quieted the King, then everything was okay.

He opened the Queen's cell and pointed a gun at her.

"Out," he commanded her.

"No," was her firm reply. He looked into those blue eyes and saw determination. It was as if the scared woman from a few hours earlier had disappeared and was replaced with an icy Queen.

He loaded his gun.

"Out. I am not giving the order a third time."

"You can't kill me, can you?" she replied. The Queen might have been a whore, but not a stupid whore."Otherwise, you would have already."

"I might not kill you, but I could kill your beloved Musketeer" he replied, and the loud NO of Louis came to their ears as the third man took Aramis out of the room enough for them to see him press his gun to his temple.

The reply of the Queen was immediate. She lowered her gaze and surrendered.

He nodded toward his man, who just threw the prisoner again into his cell. He grabbed Anne's arm and pulled her out of the cell, just to push her inside with her son and Aramis.

She stared at him.

"Make the kid be silent" he ordered "Or the Musketeer will die".

()()()()

The door shot close behind her and for a second she just stayed still, too shocked from what had just happened to realize immediately Aramis' and Louis' condition.

"Mother!" Louis launched himself against her, and for a brief moment she faltered for the sudden weight. "Mother! Aramis won't wake up!"

She remembered their kidnapper's threat and immediately hugged him.

"Shh…it's okay. It's okay. He will wake up. You are not alone. I'm here"

The King was now just a ten-year-old kid looking for reassurance from his mother. She sat with her back against the wall and scooped him into her lap as he sobbed, his face now hidden onto her shoulder. She held him tight as she whispered soothing words, gently rubbing his back.

"He…he doesn't wake… up… he… his heart...beats...but…" he tried to explain "he… doesn't… answer... me."

"It's okay. It's okay", she tried to reassure him, even if she began to be scared. She didn't know exactly how much time had passed since when they've been brought here, or since when Aramis had been unconscious, but she knew him too well. If someone was in danger, he was going to help them. If he wasn't able to stay awake, it definitely was not good. Anne cuddled him into her arms, letting him time to calm down before asking a question she really had to ask.

Eventually, he fell asleep, exhausted from the events of the day and prolonged weeping. Anne rested her head against the wall, keeping her sleeping son into her arms, and closed her eyes. She wouldn't sleep.

A long, sorrowful moan startled her awake.

"Aramis?" she asked, as she looked at him stirring. "Aramis. Wake up. Come on!" she urged again, hoping that her whispered voice could be enough to bring him back. Louis was still fast asleep into her arms, and she didn't dare raise her voice more than that. She didn't want them to be separated again, either.

Finally, his beautiful deep brown eyes opened.

"Aramis," she called again, when he began to be agitated and confused. As he heard her voice, he turned towards her "Keep calm, Aramis," she tried to be reassuring and to ground him. She didn't know where and how badly he was hurt, but she knew he needed to stay calm. In that moment, he tried to breathe, but his body curled up as he coughed. "Aramis. You need to calm down. Stay down," she tried to calm him without letting Louis go.

"Wh...What…" he began, then he changed his mind, but she wasn't sure if it was because he remembered what happened or because he worried about her "You...okay?"

"We are both safe," she smiled.

()()()()

Aramis felt relief running through his sorrowful body on seeing Anne and Louis.
The child was sleeping in his mother's arms, and he seemed unharmed. His eyes went to her. She had a bruise on her cheek and there was dried blood on her lower lip. Her dress had been torn apart, and he felt a sudden chill of anger.

Had they…?

He looked again into her eyes.

Her pupils were slightly wide, probably because of the scarce light into the room. She looked agitated, and she was scared, maybe, but nothing in her behaviour indicated further abuses. She was nothing like after Rochefort's assault. Her smile was small, but genuine and she was trying to be calm for him.

He tried to breathe again, cautiously this time, but it hurt too much. Short breaths should have to do, then.

"Why… are… you here?" he managed to say. Even talking was not so easy. He judged he was lucky they hadn't broken his ribs.

"Louis was crying and shouting for you to wake up. They wanted him to be silent. They… they threatened to kill you if I didn't succeed."

Aramis moved his gaze to his sleeping son and a smile escaped from his lips.

"You… did it."

"You scared the hell out of him…and of me," she gently scolded him "What have you done… or said?"

Aramis saw the smirk on her face, even if it didn't quash the worry in her eyes. She knew him so well, she had probably already imagined he had used his tongue to draw his kidnapper's attention on himself.

"Nothing." He managed his own smirk. He knew she loved it.

She rolled her eyes, but smiled again.

"Stop doing that," she scolded him, more seriously this time, and lowering her voice. "You have to stay safe too, if we are going to try and escape from this place".

Aramis slowly nodded, then let his head back on the floor. He was getting tired again, his head started spinning as his breath shortened for the effort of talking and listening both to Anne and their surrounding.

"Rest" the Queen commanded "We are safe".

()()()()

"The Duke of Savoy is coming to Paris"

Constance announced, storming into her husband's office without warning. There was no time for protocols. It was early morning, and the night had passed slowly and with none of them sleeping.

Porthos and D'Artagnan had also tried to search all the ways out of Paris they knew, the official and unofficial ones, but the dark had forced them to stop. It was dangerous and useless, so they went back to the Garrison and Porthos was now looking at his younger friend writing letters of condolence. Porthos remembered as if time had not passed the nights he saw Treville doing the same after Savoy, remembered his red eyes the next days, as well as Aramis'... no he couldn't go there. Not now. He had to stay focused and help D'Artagnan.

For the young Gascon it was the first major crisis, but he didn't have Athos or Treville guiding him or grounding him.

So, when they came back, as he saw the grief in his eyes, he just sat at the opposite side of the desk, his feet on it, and pretended to rest. He knew D'Artagnan wasn't fooled, but he hadn't complained, either, and a reassuring silence had fallen in the room.

Constance's entrance and words startled both of them.

"What?" Porthos' and D'Artagnan's voices mixed in a perfect duet. "When?"

"Three days," she reported, showing them the letter a messanger had brought a few minutes ago to her.

They had agreed she would stay at the palace, guarded by Musketeers, and act as spokesperson on behalf of the Queen and the King. They were telling everyone they had caught a flu, and for that reason he and the Queen were not going to allow visits. The Prime Minister, instead, was said to be on a journey for political reasons, hoping no one would ask questions.

Porthos looked at D'Artagnan. The young man ran his left hand through his hair and looked at them. The dark-skinned man could see how lost the young man was right now. As if the kidnap wasn't enough, the Duke of Savoy was not exactly a welcome person to them.

"What does he want?" he asked Constance, when D'Artagnan remained silent.

Constance shrugged.

"See his beloved nephew?" she guessed, with just a hint of irony. Even if he didn't move to France when Louis had died, they all knew he just hoped the brothers would kill each other and that the Dauphin would be killed too, so that his wife would remain the heir to the throne of France.

Treville had warned Athos about that possibility when they had planned their moves after the inevitable death of the King, and, after the near missed civil war, before leaving, Athos had warned Aramis as well about it. As D'Artagnan had been nominated Captain of the Musketeers, Aramis had passed the word to him, but so far, the Duke had not moved from Savoy, so they let the guard down a little bit.

Surely, having the King's sister as a spy at the Duke's side had helped them.

"What timing, though," Constance muttered, making both men look at her "I mean," she explained. "They disappear, and the next day, they announce they are coming here? For the first time in what? Ten years?"

"Being helped by a woman… I knew I shouldn't have left" the scratch of the door getting open was the only hint they had before hearing those words.

Thanks for reading!

Let me know if you liked it!