Hello. Thank you to everyone one who continues to read this story. I hope you enjoy the new chapter. :)

Chapter Twenty Six

Soon the gates of the palace were upon them as Athos moved inside quickly to inform the King of their return Anne took her time climbing out of the carriage. She was back in a familiar place and yet it was a lonely place as well. She had to see her son for he was the most important thing in the world to her.

'Anne! Anne!' Louis was rushing towards her faster than she's ever seen him move. Thankfully he slowed as he reached her but she still felt the force of his body hitting hers as he embraced her in a tight hug. If only he showed that he cared when she wasn't in danger. She hugged back pressing herself to him.

'Are you ok?' the King asked worriedly.

'Thanks to our musketeers,' Anne nodded. 'I'm just a bit tired.'

'Tréville. I demand to know how this happened. How could you fail me again?' Louis all but shouted towards the former captain. Nobody saw Rochefort smirk.

'Louis that's unfair,' Anne's voice caught him by surprise.

'They were a very well organised group of men,' Tréville managed to choke out. His ribs were causing him more pain than he wished to admit.

'They got away, didn't they?' Louis asked petulantly.

'Sire, they had an escape route that we couldn't possibly have known about,' Athos interjected. 'We killed many but yes, the main captors got away.'

'And you are supposed to be my best soldiers!' Louis exclaimed.

'Louis-' Anne started.

'No,' Louis cut her off, 'Anne they failed to protect you and I will not take this kind of failure. I'm starting to wonder if my Musketeers are really my best soldiers.'

With that statement Louis ushered Anne into the palace and Rochefort and the red guards followed. Rochefort's smirk wasn't visible to the musketeers but they all knew it was there.

Recognising their dismissal the musketeers turned to mount their horses and rode back to the garrison.

Anne didn't register where Louis was leading her until she recognised the door to her son's room. He opened the door for her and she dashed inside to see her son in the arms of his governess, Lady Marguerite.

'Oh is he well?' Anne asked as she hurried to hold her son in her arms.

'Yes, Majesty,' Marguerite handed the boy over before curtseying and stepping back.

Anne held her sleeping son close to her and let nothing interrupt her happiness. She suddenly realised that Louis was speaking to her.

'I'm sorry. What did you say?' she turned to face her husband who looked rather worried while she was beaming at holding her son again.

Louis' posture softened as he saw her delight at being reacquainted with her son.

'I was asking if you will be ok tonight.' Louis moved forward and placed his arms around her shoulders. More affection than he had shown her in a very long time.

'I'll be ok,' she said quietly turning to look at him. 'I'm so tired I think I'll fall asleep the moment my head hits the pillow.'

'If you're sure,' Louis kissed her temple in affection. 'You will come to me if you need me?' he asked somewhat unsure.

'Of course,' she smiled back as he turned and left her with her son who was sleeping soundly.

Constance had been waiting for the King to leave as she came in and handed a tired looking Marguerite a tray of food. Once the tray was out of her hands Constance approached the Queen and threw caution to wind as she enveloped Anne in a hug.

Anne leaned into Constance's hug but was careful not to squash her son. Constance broke the embrace and looked down at the sleeping boy.

'He knew you were in trouble,' she said quietly. 'Was crying his eyes out.'

Anne placed her sleeping son in his cot and watched as his hand went straight to the small teddy bear he had become so fond of.

'Oh he must have tired himself out,' Anne looked soothingly into the cot.

'That he did,' Constance agreed. Marguerite got up and left room as Constance and Anne continued to watch the sleeping Dauphin.

'You know, if you ever need a new governess, I know just the man,' Constance whispered grinning and Anne raised her eyebrows.

'Who?' she asked in an amused tone.

'Aramis,' Constance giggled. 'He was good with another baby so I thought he might be able to soothe him,' she said leaning over and casually stoking the Dauphin's face. 'Worked like a charm after Aramis started singing in Spanish.'

Anne smiled as she thought how Aramis had soothed his son to sleep. The little bear that Aramis had given was truly her son's favourite but she couldn't help but feel sad that Aramis could never truly be with his son.

'Your Majesty?' Constance looked concerned.

'Sorry,' Anne sighed.

'I think you need some sleep,' Constance smiled warmly as Anne started to feel exhaustion overcoming her again.

Marguerite returned and Constance led Anne to her chambers.

The musketeers arrived at the garrison after a silent ride from the palace. Tréville's breathing was noisy but no-one commented on the fact. Athos too was struggling although he had hoped his discomfort wasn't obvious, one look at Aramis told him that the marksman had noticed.

They all dismounted and helped Tréville down from his horse. Porthos and D'Artagnan helped their captain up the stairs to his office and quarters while Aramis disappeared.

'The King's angry,' Tréville huffed. 'Hopefully, he'll calm down and realise that there wasn't much we could have done.'

A disbelieving 'Humf' from Athos was silently agreed to by the others in the room.

The door swung open and Aramis entered holding a mortar and pestle as he prepared a pain relief draft.

'I'm ok Aramis,' Tréville tried but soon backed down when Aramis smirked back. Athos silently left the room.

'Here,' Aramis ordered in his best authoritative voice. A voice that meant nobody argued with him. It was usually reserved for his injured brothers but Tréville had been on the receiving end before. 'Get some rest, Captain,' the marksman said after Tréville downed the concoction.

The musketeers left their captain in peace.

Athos sat on his bed trying to ease his breathing. The blow to the chest had been hard and he suspected he may have bruised some ribs. He ran his hand across the back of his head and felt a small lump forming. He must have hit his head slightly when he received the blow.

A knock came at the door but Athos didn't bother to reply as the door opened. As he had suspected the man standing in the doorway was Aramis.

'What if I wasn't decent?' Athos scolded the intruder but Aramis laughed.

'Then it wouldn't be anything I hadn't seen before,' the marksman chimed before furrowing his brow when he saw Athos' hand on the back of his head. 'Did you hit your head as well?'

Aramis didn't wait for an answer and pulled Athos' hand away and so he could feel the swelling on his friend's head.

'Why didn't you say you hit your head?' Aramis chastised his brother.

'Because I didn't realise I had,' Athos shot back. 'The pain from my ribs and my breathing was my main focus,' Athos' demeanour softened a bit.

'You weren't knocked out?' Aramis asked as Athos shook his head slightly in reply but soon regretted it. 'Do you feel sick?'

'No.'

'I think your head will be fine,' Aramis said quietly. 'Right. Shirt off,' he demanded. Athos glared back at the amused look on his friend's face but eventually conceded. There was no point in arguing with Aramis when he was like this.

'Some bruising,' Aramis mused as he checked Athos' ribs. 'Can you breathe properly?'

'Yes. It just hurts a bit,' Athos replied.

'Nothings broken but this will help with the pain,' Aramis held out a pain relief draft.

'Will he live?' Porthos opened the door to see Athos and Aramis before him.

'Unfortunately,' Aramis quipped smirking. Athos was quick enough to slap the marksman on the arm in response and he heard D'Artagnan laugh in the doorway.

'He seems fine to me,' the young man quipped before Athos shot him his best death glare.

'Let's leave Mr. Grumpy in peace,' Aramis quipped before adding, 'you know where I am,' looking seriously at Athos who nodded slightly.

Rochefort was fuming as he sat in his office. How could she choose the musketeers over him? His plan hadn't worked but he couldn't understand why his love hadn't come to him. Did she not love him after all?

No, she did love him. He was sure of that. She couldn't show her desire in front of the musketeers. That's why she couldn't show her love for him. That was it.

Now he knew he had to do something about those musketeers. He knew the idiot king would still favour the men, even though they had let him down again. Louis was just that stupid. He remembered his deal with Renard. As much as his part of the plan hadn't worked as he had hoped he could still be rid of Aramis. In turn Aramis' demise would cause the others to break. Rochefort smiled at the thought of the musketeers gone and out of his hair.

He would wait a couple of days before sending Aramis to Épernon on an innocent mission. A mission that nobody would suspect would lead to his death.

The musketeers were summoned to the palace after a few days of milling about at the garrison. They entered the throne room to see Louis, Anne and Rochefort there. They bowed and waited to be instructed as to why their presence was required.

'On Thursday, there will be a hunt for my guests,' Louis informed them. They all suddenly remembered that Louis had organised a few days of revelry with many nobleman across the country visiting Paris. 'I will need a Musketeer escort for the hunt and for the garden party on Friday. Where is Tréville?' Louis asked suddenly realising the man's absence.

'He is still recovering, Sire,' Aramis informed the King who looked uneasy as he remembered that Tréville had been injured.

'Well I want the Musketeers to be at their best. I cannot have the regiment fail me again,' the King's words stung as they realised that they had no idea how to trace the Queen's captors.

'I am sure our Musketeers will do an excellent job,' Anne smiled squeezing Louis' hand who relaxed at her touch.

The musketeers bowed and turned to leave.

'Athos,' Louis called and the musketeers turned back to face their King. 'Please tell Tréville that I wish him a speedy recovery.'

'Yes, Sire',' Athos replied and the musketeers left the room.

'Now he cares,' Porthos grumbled as they walked down the palace corridors.

'Aramis,' the musketeers turned to see Rochefort approaching them and stopped for the blonde man to catch up.

'I need you to deliver this to the Duke of Épernon,' he held out a sealed letter but Aramis didn't take it.

'Couldn't you send one of your own men?' Aramis asked politely. Rochefort knew he would have to play this well.

'The truth is...,' Rochefort looked down as if embarrassed, 'that the Duke of Épernon is a very prickly man. He will see it as a slight if I send a red guard instead of a musketeer.' Rochefort doing his best to make his performance convincing. 'Do you believe that I would ask unless I had to?!' Rochefort hoped his tactic would work.

Aramis sighed. He didn't want to go but he also knew that Rochefort telling the King how he refused to take a letter to a duke would be damaging for the regiment. He looked to his brothers and saw that they were thinking the same thing.

'Fine,' Aramis took the letter from Rochefort as the blonde man desperately tried to hide his glee and relief. 'I assume I can leave tomorrow?'

'Yes. Thank you,' Rochefort made to leave.

'I'll come wit' you,' Porthos said and Rochefort turned.

'Does it really require two musketeers to deliver a letter?' he sneered.

'It's alright, I'll go alone. Épernon is only a day's ride,' Aramis took Porthos' arm and started to steer the big man away from Rochefort, eager to get away from the evil man.

Rochefort watched and grinned in triumph. Aramis was going alone.

'Rochefort better come through on our deal!' the Duke of Épernon was raising his voice with nearly every syllable and pacing in front of the fire. 'I want that musketeer!'

'I'm sure Rochefort will come through,' Renard stated as confidently as he could. 'Clearly things didn't go as he anticipated. Those musketeers were not supposed to be part of the rescue group. I thought about trying to take Aramis there but that would have been suicidal.'

'Just because it hasn't gone his way doesn't mean he can mess up our deal!' Renard could feel the anger radiating from the Duke.

'Let's give Rochefort a few more days,' Renard suggested hesitantly. 'If the musketeer isn't here by Friday I will go to Paris and seek Rochefort out,' Renard stated as strongly as he could, trying to disguise his own worry.

Renard's words seemed to work as the Duke slumped into his chair by the fire and took a large sip of his brandy.

'Alright,' the Duke was calmer now. 'If the musketeer is not here by Friday you go and get an explanation,' the Duke turned to stare into the fire and Renard realised his dismissal.

'Maybe I should come wit' ya,' Porthos suggested for the third time that morning. He hated it when his brothers went out alone. It made him feel somewhat helpless.

'Porthos, I know how you care about me but this is starting to make me think that you question my abilities,' Aramis placed an arm around his large friend's shoulders.

Porthos deflated slightly and Aramis smirked.

'I just worry about ya,' the big man admitted. 'Besides if anyone can find trouble it's you.'

Aramis opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by D'Artagnan.

'Now he's going to say, 'I don't find trouble, it finds me.' Am I right?' the Gascon grinned as Aramis playfully scowled and Porthos chuckled.

'Be careful Aramis,' Athos appeared looking serious.

'Will you all stop worrying? I will back tomorrow,' Aramis scolded his brothers. 'I'll miss the hunt tomorrow but I'll be back for the boring garden party the day after.'

'Don't let the King hear you saying that the garden party is boring,' D'Artagnan playfully pushed Aramis so the marksman lost his balance slightly.

'Are you going to tell him?' Aramis grinned back. 'Look, if I leave now I can get to the estate, deliver the stupid letter and stop at an inn on my way back. I'll be back tomorrow, I promise.' Aramis had feeling of dread in stomach about this mission and he didn't know why but he wasn't about to admit that to the others. Porthos would never let him go if that was the case but Aramis could sense the unease of his brothers.

Aramis mounted his horse and rode out of the garrison before his brothers could try and stop him.

'He'll be fine. Won't he?' D'Artagnan's worried voice surprised both Athos and Porthos but neither could reassure the younger man as they were worried too.

Aramis continued through the French countryside, passing through small towns and villages. He decided to stop to eat and give Fidget a rest. The cheeky horse managed to steal an apple from Aramis' saddlebag while he wasn't looking. Aramis huffed a laugh but he still couldn't rid himself of the inexplicable worry in his stomach. He would be happy to get back to Paris and be bored out of his mind at the garden party.

Aramis continued in his journey and passed through a nice town with an inn that he could stay at once he had completed his delivery. He started to feel better as he approached the Duke's estate.

He dismounted at the gates. 'I'm here to deliver a letter to the Duke of Épernon,' he stated and was allowed entry. A stable boy came and took his horse and Aramis looked around at the decor. The house, actually it was more of a mansion, was rather dark and dimly lit. Aramis' edginess came to the fore again. He was led to a room where he presumed it was the Duke sat in the chair by the fire.

The Duke looked up and considered the man before him. He only knew Aramis by name and not appearance but it seemed that Renard's description had been incredibly accurate.

Aramis bowed slightly and felt his unease rise to alarming levels. There was something about the man in front of him that made him want to run. That wasn't a feeling he got very often.

'You are a musketeer?' the Duke asked he stood to survey Aramis.

'Yes sir. I have a letter for you sir,' Aramis replied politely doing his best not to make eye contact and holding out the sealed letter.

'Thank you,' the Duke took it and opened it. It was something to do with taxes but he saw the signature and seal of Rochefort and knew that this was just in case somebody else read it.

'What is you name musketeer?' the Duke was trying to restrain the glee at having his quarry in his presence.

'Aramis sir,' the marksman replied curtly, disliking the Duke more and more.

'Excellent.'

A/N: Should Aramis be worried? ;)