Aramis

His gaze met Milady's pained eyes. For a moment she seemed truly scared and, to be honest, the location of the wound justified it. It could have been fatal. Were the Inseparables doomed to lose all their allies?

He shook his head trying to get rid of such thoughts.

"I need to check on your wound…", he told her feeling a bit embarrassed that he had to undress her. It was a strange sensation to him. To his own surprise taking off her clothes disturbed him because he treated Milady as his brother's wife. Though he had never known her as Athos' wife.

"So do it!", she hissed, desperately trying to control her pain. He cut through her bodice and the layers of her precious gown to finally reach the wound. The large long graze bled profusely.

"It looks like you'll live though next few days won't be pleasant for you. The bullet has only winged you. It hasn't entered your body. I need to clean it and put some salve on it as I cannot stitch it.", he explained gently.

"Aramis. I know you'll do your best.", she replied sadly. He guessed she needed Athos at her side, a balm he could not give her. The swordsman hated her and loved her. And hated himself for this love.

He sighed and focused on the wound. Milady was shivering under his ministrations but was managing to hold still and quiet. Aramis was not surprised by her resistance to pain. He finished cleaning her wound and poured a vast amount of alcohol on it. She hissed in pain, her hand catching his in a silent plea to ease her agony.

"You're doing fine. It's almost over…", he was reassuring her. She calmed down as the pain passed a bit and found his gaze.

"I know.", she gave him a sad smile, "I am no stranger to injuries."

He nodded and stood up to search for the salve. The room went dark before his eyes. He pulled out his hand and caught the wall, waiting for the darkness to recede. He felt Milady's gaze on him but chose to ignore it. He put the healing paste on her wound and bandaged it.

"Would you accompany me to the palace?", she asked.

Why me? I'm not at my best and she knows it!

"If you find me fit enough to defend you", he murmured.

She nodded and allowed him to help her stand up. A moment had to pass before they both caught their balance. Then they left the room.

Aramis saw Athos sitting in the garrison courtyard, his back leaning against the building wall, legs in front of him. The swordsman was watching the door they were going through. When the lieutenant saw his wife alive there was a quick moment of relief on his face before it was hidden behind indifference and all-to-obvious pain.

Aramis helped Milady enter her coach. When she insisted on his company, he took a place near her.

"So what's the reason you wanted my presence?", the marksman asked.

"I think you need to tell Lemay about the herbs you gave me. Am I not right?"

"You did not even ask…"

"I'm only a faible woman how could I remember all those complicated names".

What are you trying to tell me? Why should I talk to Lemay? May it be a trap? No, we're working together.

He sank into the comfortable cushions. He was far more tired than he wanted to acknowledge.

The ride to the palace seemed too short. He helped Milady to descend barely keeping on his own feet. She led them into the Palace, the guards bowed at her sight. He tried to pay attention to his surroundings but was too overwhelmed by fatigue.

I should be grateful. I'm still able to act.

Milady knocked on the door which seemed to materialize suddenly in front of them. Claude, one of the musketeers, was guarding them but he let them enter. Aramis reproached himself for his lack of alertness.

THe marksman froze when he saw the Queen tending to Constance. D'Artagnan was kneeling by her bed, his lips absentmindedly caressing his lover's palm.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, your Majesty, but I need doctor Lemay. Is he here?"

"You're wounded?!", Anne's gaze focused on Milady, "sit down. Lemay will be back in no time. He has gone to the palace pharmacy as he needed some herbs.", she was clearly fighting with herself not to watch Aramis.

The marksman felt a sting of anxiety. And it had nothing in common with the presence of the last woman he had loved in his life.

"I'll check on him!", he decided quickly.

Anne wanted to protest but Milady seemed to understand his reasons.

"D'Artagnan! Go with him!", the Queen ordered.

the Gascon regretfully posed back Constance hand on the bed and stood up.

"How is she?", Aramis asked when d'Artagnan left with him.

"She's suffering and so terribly weak…", the boy whispered with fear.

"Has she regained consciousness?", the medic inquired.

"Yes. A few times. She recognized me."

"That's a good sign."

"Lemay says the same thing but he insists on being cautious with hope."

Aramis nodded. He felt more and more detached. The tiredness was draining him of what energy was left.

They reached the pharmacy. Something was wrong. Aramis primed his pistol and only after that motioned towards the Gascon to open the doors. There was an intense smell of herbs and spilled alcohol. A shadow rushed towards them.

"Stop", ordered Aramis levelling his gun. The person froze.

"I… I haven't done anything wrong…", a young voice whispered.

"I am not so sure…", d'Artagnan murmured, "someone is lying there…", he omitted Aramis and his prisoner.

"Dear God! Lemay!", with this cry he disappeared from marksman's line of sight as he dropped to his knees between the shelves heavy with herbs and medicaments.

"What have you done?!", Aramis approached to the prisoner, violence in his eyes. He did not feel the fury he displayed. Though he could not accept that a good man was injured or worse because of a madman's intrigue.

"I… I… just wanted to steal some herbs for my ill sister… I…'d never hurt master Lemay..", the Palace stable boy mumbled withdrawing until his back hit the wall. Aramis did not remember this scrawny servant but he did not know all men working in Palace. There was however some sincerity in lad's tone.

"Who hit the doctor?", Aramis asked slowly.

"A tall man. Blond. In a mask."

Rochefort?! Why is he here?! The Queen!

"Where did he go?!", the marksman exclaimed.

"He opened some door in this wall…", the boy indicated.

Aramis was instantly at the wall, searching for a way to open the secret passage.

"D'Artagnan?", he asked when finally a stone gave up under his fingers.

"He's alive. Breathing regularly."

"Stay with him", Aramis ordered as he entered the dark corridor. His breathlessness reminded him painfully how unfit he was but he coerced himself into a run. The passage was narrow, and darkness swiftly made the musketeer slow down. He cursed himself for not taking a candle or a torch. But finally his eyes got accustomed to the darkness… no, that wasn't it - a weak light was penetrating the corridor.

Aramis slowly approached the unsecured door. He gently pushed them to enter the royal chamber. The King was lying on the bed, seemingly asleep, but the marksman was sure that the man was barely breathing.

"Guards", he yelled jumping towards the monarch. The room whirled around him. When he understood what was going on, it was too late. With a last effort he aimed at the window and fired.

A/N

I am grateful to Legate of Apple for all precious remarks!