"I hereby suspend you from the Musketeers."

Anna's eyes flashed open as the Comte de Rochefort's smug face filled her unconscious mind. She had been plagued with the memory of her abrupt dismissal ever since he had uttered those soul destroying seven words.

But the worst part had not been taking the letter from him or making her way back through the palace, convinced every Red Guard was laughing at her. No, the worst part by far was returning the Garrison.

Her feet had been like lead as she dragged herself into the courtyard where the Musketeers were still cursing at the dismissal of their beloved Captain and mostly ignored her and her iron grip on the flimsy envelope.

It had been Aramis who first noticed something was wrong when his attention had been caught by the woman shakily trying to pour herself a drink. They had all flocked to their table though, when she reached up to un-buckle the leather pauldron moulded onto her shoulder and let it fall with a definitive thud onto the table top.

She had spent the following days doing absolutely nothing; wandering through markets and exploring forgotten areas of the city she loved so much. She had fallen into a sort of routine; she would wait for Athos to leave for the Garrison before rising and then spend the day as far from the Musketeer Headquarters as possible before returning home in time to greet her love.

She still couldn't look him in the eye though, she knew he had so many questions, not just about her suspension but also Treville's demotion, and yet he had fought the urge to ask and she had not offered; knowing that once she opened that door - things would never be the same.

Today was supposed to be another one of her nothing days'; yesterday she spotted a market stall claiming to stock the same wine Athos' parents had been fond of back in Pinon and she planned to buy a few bottles for her Musketeer, lord knows he deserved it after putting up with her lack of explanations, especially as he hadn't been home in a few days - likely on a Musketeer mission.

Throwing back the thin sheet covering her, she let her feet fall onto the hard wooden floor before pushing herself from the mattress with a sigh. Yes, today was going to be another boring day.

________________________________________________________________________________

Athos knew his day was off to a bad start when he couldn't exactly pinpoint where he was or who was holding him up as the toes of his boots dragged along the dusty floor. He still couldn't figure it out even after he'd been deposited into a chair and his wrists and feet bound.

A hostage situation then? Wonderful.

He tried to summon the energy to lift his head but failed as it lolled instead, his eyes trying to focus as they refused to open beyond slits. He opened his mouth to speak but was promptly interrupted by the arrival of a cup of water being tossed in his direction. He couldn't figure out if the water dripping from his hair and face was a blessing or a curse; they were either lousy torturers or simply trying to get him lucid enough to properly feel the oncoming pain.

"Who are you?" It was those three words, croaked out from his own dry mouth, which told him all he needed to know about the situation; he'd been drugged. "Where is this?" His voice was stronger as he asked his second question but his no-doubt bloodshot eyes were inhibiting him from discerning his whereabouts.

No, this was going to be a decidedly bad day.

_______________________________________________________________________________

"He wouldn't just disappear without a word to anyone." Aramis' words rang true for each of the three musketeers filling the entrance to the Garrison's stable.

"Something's wrong." Porthos agreed as he pushed off the door frame and faced his best friend and the pacing D'Artagnan.

"Why bring this to me?" The three men turned, each now facing the stable's interior as their former Captain rolled his shoulder before plunging a shovel into the pile of used hay at his feet. "I'm no longer your commander officer; just an ordinary Musketeer on work detail."

"Athos would not just vanish." D'Artagnan stressed to the man.

"Athos is either drunk somewhere or with his..." The man paused as he struggled to find the right word. "...what exactly is Anna to him?"

"We've checked all the usual taverns and I passed Anna at the market this morning - no one's seen him in days and she thinks he's on a mission..." Porthos exclaimed, ignoring the Captain's question. "...didn't have the heart to correct her." He mumbled, trailing off as Treville sighed and stepped back from the hay.

They watched as the man stared into the straw as he thought through their points; Athos hadn't been seen for days and even if he was sleeping off a hangover, the innkeepers usually sent word of a fevered Musketeer at their tables.

But all that had stopped, the former Captain reminded himself; his lieutenant hadn't drunk himself stupid since the reappearance of a certain blonde and even though the pair was definitely getting closer, their sense of duty was un-paralleled and they always made it to the Garrison.

He closed his eyes in defeat before snapping hem open again and striding to his favoured Musketeers, a decision clearly having been reached.

"The sooner this is done, the sooner we can look for him." He pushed the shovel into D'Artagnan's hand and headed back inside the bustling Garrison, Aramis and Porthos hot on his heels as D'Artagnan stared indignantly at the offending object. Treville fought a smile as he thought of how far the boy had come; moving up the ranks only to be landed with mucking out yet again.

________________________________________________________________________________

His sight was still blurry as he tried to regain full use of his senses. So far, all he could make out were the hazy silhouettes of a group of people and a small source of light to his right that was somehow obstructed and yet, the groggy feeling pumping through his veins would probably inhibit him even if his captors were fully visible.

"Someone speak to me." His tongue felt like lead as he fought to form basic words.

A rectangle of light stole his attention as he was ignored by his captors. The bright whiteness filling his eyes was interrupted as another hazy figure strode into the room, the glint of the knife in his hand recognisable to the Musketeer even when drugged.

"If you mean to kill me, at least give me the courtesy of an explanation."

"We mean you no harm..." He squinted as one of the figures moved across the room towards the obstructed light. "...my Lord."

He blinked slowly as his vision returned and as soon as his eyes focused on the crowd before him, he desperately wished for the numbness to return.

"You know us now?" His eyes slid over to the young woman with her hands on her hips, staring down at him.

"You're Bertrand, the innkeeper at Pinon." He nodded to the man at her side. "And his daughter; Jeanne." He carefully watched them and the fidgeting crowd behind them. "What is the meaning of this?" His voice had regained his strength and he was finally able to form coherent sentences as he stared them down.

"Forgive us, my Lord...we didn't know what else to do." Bertrand said slowly.

"We had no choice!" Jeanne corrected her father as Athos glanced down to inspect the ropes holding him to the chair as he strained to isolate the sounds from outside of his prison, hoping to determine what part of Paris he was in. "You ignored all our letters."

"I make it a rule never to open letters." He drawled, his head falling back. "NOW CUT ME LOOSE, DAMN YOU!" The gathered crowd gasped at his transformation as his head snapped upright and his eyes blazed. "I could have your heads for this." He muttered, letting his head loll backwards again as calls were made for a knife to be brought forward.

"At least that would be quick..." He eyed the feisty girl as she started again. "...starving to death takes such a long time."

"Forgive her, my Lord." Bertrand pushed his daughter back. "Jeanne speaks out of turn."

"He needs to know the truth!" She insisted, breaking past her father to stare at Athos. "You judge us in our desperation; these are your lands, your people - and you have neglected us all!" He remained silent as he watched her, trying to place why her outburst seemed so familiar. "It is you that should be judged, Monsieur le Comte de la Fere."

"Cut me loose." He cut across her, focusing instead on her quiet father. "I will not listen to your complaints while tied to a chair."

Bertrand was quiet for a moment, simply watching the volatile Comte before nodding for a knife to be procured and the ropes holding the man down, sliced through.

The ropes had barely fallen from his body before Athos had risen to his feet and took his first, drug-laden steps. Shutting his eyes as he felt his body sway, he batted away the help of Jeanne and pushed his way through the crowds and into the sunshine that had taunted him when blind.

One step into the dust-filled air and he felt his heart stop. The village had barely changed in all the years he had been away and the thought that time had stood still in the small slice of France made him feel physically sick.

"Oh Goddamn you." He breathed as he stepped further into the village square. "You've brought me back."

_______________________________________________________________________________

Anna was startled to say the least when she rounded the corner of the lodgings she and Athos now shared to find three Musketeers and one former Captain lounging against the wall opposite her door.

"Where is he?" Her mind filled with worries as she took in the faces of everyone but Athos. "Please tell me he isn't-"

"He isn't." Her shoulders sagged in relief as Aramis' hand came to rest on her arm as Porthos took her basket. "But we do need to speak with you."

With a small, confused nod she let them inside, ushering each man into the small space in the heart of Paris.

"So..." She closed the door behind them and unclasped her cape. "...If he isn't..." She trailed off, not wanting to say the word that was often linked so closely with the job of a Musketeer. "...then where is he?" She indicated for the men to take seats at the table Athos had lugged up the stairs weeks prior in an attempt to make the place more homely.

"We don't know." Aramis told her, placing his hat on the surface of the wooden table and taking a seat opposite Treville.

"What do you mean you don't know?" She asked, turning to watch each man as they turned from her, not wanting to be the one who told her.

"Something's different in here." D'Artagnan commented as he looked around the room, still ignoring the woman. "What's he changed?"

"Everything." Aramis cut across Anna as she opened her mouth to speak. "I was here a few months ago and...nothing's the same." He gestured around.

"We made some changes, now stop stalling and tell me where he is." They all refocused on Anna as she stood in the centre of the room.

"No one's seen him for days." Porthos was the first to break the silence. "We've looked all over Paris and he's nowhere."

"You told me he was on a mission."

"Uhh." He scratched his head as he tried not to fidget under her unrelenting stare. "No...I didn't."

"I saw you this morning and you said-"

"I didn't not say he was on mission."

"Porthos du Vallon, I swear to God-"

"As soon as we realised he's not in Paris we came here." Treville's hands were on her shoulders in an instant, holding her back from attacking the large Musketeer. "Is there anything here that could tell us where he is?"

"No, I..." She glanced around the room, inwardly cursing herself for not asking more questions about Athos' absence. "...I don't think so." She turned from Treville, letting his hands fall from her shoulders. "But please, feel free to look." She forced a smile for the three Musketeers as they rose and began their search.

She watched them for a moment before collecting the cloak she had thrown over a chair back and moving to hang it beside the door.

"What've you got?" She turned at the sound of Porthos' voice and watched as D'Artagnan scanned a small piece of paper.

"Bills?"

"A letter..." D'Artagnan corrected Aramis as Anna moved to stand beside him. "...From the estate of the Comte de la Fere asking Athos to return." He surmised before the note was snatched from his hands and read by the blonde woman.

"We are in desperate need of your protection." She read from the note, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "We entreat you to return to us and honour the responsibility of your family." She stared at the days old ink on the parchment before dropping it and reaching for the stack of letters D'Artagnan held out for her. "They're all in the same hand." She mumbled as she opened a random selection of the notes. "Signed by Bertrand; the innkeeper at Pinon." She handed Treville the note and pointed to the scrawled name at the bottom.

"There's your answer then; family business - nothing to do with us." He handed her back the note and turned to the Musketeers. "Now, I have work to do." He pressed a quick kiss to Anna's cheek and strode to the door.

"Pinon is only a day's ride away." D'Artagnan reminded him as he intercepted the former Captain. "We could just check...unless you'd rather stay here shovelling sh-"

"Surely anything's better than that?" Aramis cut across the boy with a smirk. "And we owe it to Athos to investigate just in case." He nodded lightly towards the stoic woman still stood facing the window as she continued to open the stack of letters and stare at the dates.

Treville watched the woman frown at the notes before heaving a sigh.

"All right." He conceded. "I'll ride with you, but as a comrade, not your commanding officer."

"Whatever you say, Captain." D'Artagnan grinned, clapping the man on the shoulder before exiting the lodgings, Aramis and Porthos following with matching grins.

"He would never return there willingly." Anna's voice was barely above a whisper as she dropped the paper onto the table. "Not even if the King himself told him to." She turned to Treville, her face devoid of any emotion. "I'm coming with you."

"You don't have to; that place holds just as many bad memories for you."

"I don't care...it's time to face my past."

_______________________________________________________________________________

"I LEFT THIS LIFE!"

Athos' shouts could likely be heard throughout the French countryside as he confronted the people who had dragged him back to his personal hell-hole.

"A long time ago." He mumbled as he turned and stalked away from the small inn. "What gives you the right to bring me back?" He asked over his shoulder as Jeanne jogged to catch him, the remaining villagers pouring into the square.

"We need your help!"

"You don't need a Lord to tell you how to work the fields; you've always done it." He reminded them as he approached the well and took a drink from the waiting bucket.

"It's not us...it's Baron Renard." Jeanne told him as her father caught up to them and the villagers gathered around the well, all eager to catch a glimpse of their absent Comte as he hunched over the bucket, desperately trying to erase the sluggishness from his body. "He burns the crops and poisons whatever's left; he wants your land for himself." She told him. "We need the protection of our Liege Lord; the Comte de la Fere."

"The Comte no longer exists." He told her, his eyes hard before casting them around the poor village, still leaning heavily on the bucket. "I'll talk to Renard." He sighed after a moment of consideration. "And then I hope to never see any of you again."

"Hate this place if you like, but don't punish its people."

"You don't let up do you?" He asked, fighting a smile at her spirit.

"A trait I learnt under your employment." She replied, her eyes bright with fire. He stared at her for a moment, trying to pin her face onto a member of his former staff before shaking his head.

Jeanne. A name he knew but couldn't place. Jeanne. The girl was surely too young to have been in his staff.

"Dear Jeanne, you need to learn to stand up for yourself; a woman won't get far in this world if she doesn't put her foot down, ma douce colombe."

"You were Anna's girl." He observed, watching as she held herself better at the mention of her former mistress's name. "Her sweet dove." He knew the traces of smile were gracing his lips as he recited the name Anna had often cooed to the young girl as she made her laugh.

"My mistress once said that if you don't stand up for what's right then there's no point in standing at all."

"Yeah..." He turned back to the bucket and gave his face a final splash of the cool water. "...you were Anna's girl."

A horse's whinny interrupted the oncoming thoughts of their happier times in that cursed house and the Musketeer was, for a short moment, grateful for it. Grateful, until he witnessed the venom Jeanne and the people of Pinon began to show towards the approaching riders.

He watched as Jeanne stalked to the village's entrance to face the men and once again found himself fighting a smile at the determinedness she showed when regarding her village - at least her time in the doomed chateau had been productive.

Various shouts of 'Out of my way' and 'Clear the road' filled the air as the riders entered Pinon, their horses kicking up a thin layer of dust as they began to circle the gathered villagers.

Athos' eyes focused and through the grainy air he monitored the movements of one of the riders in particular: a relatively young man, cloaked in ornate fabric and a vicious looking whip at his side. He remained still, always watching, until the boy rounded on a passing villager and began striking the frail man.

Pushing his way through the square, he reached out to cover the villager while effortlessly pulling the rider from his horse and pinning him to the dusty floor.

"You dare lay a hand on me, peasant?" The boy spat as he scrambled to his feet, his eyes full of disdain for the sweaty stranger before him.

"Edmond!" The boy stopped his advances towards Athos as an older man rode into the square. "What is going on here?" He asked as the boy, presumably Edmond, stepped back and away from Athos' furious gaze.

"Your son needs to learn some manners, Baron de Louviers." Athos coolly cut across the boy who responded with a snap of the whip still grasped in his hand.

"Stop that!" The Baron called out as his son prepared to strike again, this time the whip intending to strike the stranger and not the dust below his boots. "And open your eyes boy." He commanded, dismounting his steed and strolling to the pair. "Do you not recognise a man of noble bearing?" Athos felt his jaw twitch as the boy sneered before looking him up and down; taking in the dusty clothes and unruly hair of the man before him. "This is the Comte de la Fere." The Baron told him as Edmond finally met Athos' eyes and recoiled from the fury there.

"Your man's behaviour is a disgrace." Athos' voice was low as he finally turned from the boy to his father.

"Well, perhaps if you'd shown a little more interest in the last few years, I would not have had to intervene." The Baron shrugged, seeing no wrong in his son's disgusting actions towards the gentle people of Pinon.

"You have no right to abuse your power."

"My right, my dear Comte, is that of any concerned neighbour." The Baron's tone turned from friendly to vicious in seconds and Athos watched from the corner of his eye as his men rounded up the little livestock residing in the village. "Your estate has gone to rack and ruin; its people are thieves and parasites." He held a hand to his heart and Athos fought the urge to roll his eyes at his fake sincerity and concern. "I was only attempting to assert some order."

"I'm sure we can sort this out like honourable men."

"Nothing would please me more." The Baron's smile turned wolfish. "Lead on."

Athos' remained still for a millisecond; watching the Baron intently before turning and carving a path through the measly group of villagers with the hope that this would be sorted and he could be on his way within the hour.

_______________________________________________________________________________

"So how long have you and Athos been living together?"

Anna had been waiting for that particular question since the moment she and the four Musketeers had ridden out of the Garrison gates. Honestly, she was impressed that Aramis had held out this long and not simply broken at the Paris gates.

"You're living together?" Anna held in a laugh at Treville's question.

"Come on, Captain." D'Artagnan laughed at the man's eye-roll at the title. "You couldn't tell?"

"I thought you lived at the Bonacieux's."

"Have you met Monsieur Bonacieux?" Aramis asked with a sneer. "Can't blame the girl for running once Constance left for the palace."

Anna was perfectly happy to not be an actual member of this conversation. Riding at the back of the group she let a smile fall over her lips as the four men debated the pros and cons of lodging with the draper between themselves.

She was glad, in a way that she had insisted on accompanying them on their trip to Pinon. She had not had a glimpse of the village she had once adored in so long - always taking back routes when heading for the chateau, and honestly, she did long to see it once more.

They had left for Paris in such a rush all those years ago; Athos refusing to spend another moment in that 'poisoned house' and so the pair had simply galloped, as fast as they could, from the place and towards a new life in Paris.

Though, if she were being truly honest with herself, returning to Pinon to recuse a likely kidnapped Athos was not something she was 100% looking forward to. She had often thought that if she were ever to return to this part of France, she would do it with her pauldron proudly displayed on her shoulder and hopefully heading to a peaceful retirement in the grassy hills that symbolised her youth.

No, this was not at all how she pictured it and despite being in her uniform, the lack of covering on her shoulder was killing her. But that was not the sole reason for the trepidation flooding her body, she realised as the road ahead began to curve, for the last time she had ridden down this track without fully knowing what laid ahead was a time long past and the blonde had been a different person entirely.

_______________________________________________________________________________

The inn at Pinon was not the most luxurious building the former Comte de la Fere had ever sat in, and yet, the simple bar and mismatched collection of tables and chairs were the perfect place for this conversation with the snobbish Baron.

Pinon was, in its essence, a simple town with simple people working the land that had been passed down from generation to generation. The fields surrounding it had been both playground and workplace for centuries and Athos knew that were the Baron and his son to get their hands on it; the village would be torn to shreds and the land used for hunting.

It shocked Athos how disturbing the thought was. Once upon a time this village had been one of the most important things in his life and he could clearly remember strolling around it at his father's side when he was just a boy; watching as the villagers conversed with their beloved liege lord.

He shook his head to clear the thoughts; he hadn't loved this place for a long, long time and nothing was ever going to change that. No, he was going to escape from this hellhole as soon as possible.

"You're very kind my dear." The Baron's sickly words broke him from his thoughts as Jeanne placed two cups onto the table at which they sat. Athos nodded a thanks to the girl as the crimson liquid sat before him and opened his mouth to begin discussions when the Baron's hand clamped around her wrist. "And very pretty." The old man mused, staring intently at the innocent beauty the innkeeper's daughter possessed. "Normally, I find the peasant class as ugly as gargoyles..." He let out a laugh. "...but every now and then one discovers a rose amongst the thorns."

"Shall we get to business?" Athos cut across his lecherous comments with a sigh. He had no intention of sitting through the Baron's attempts at flirtation with the woman he had known as a young girl. "I'm anxious to return to Paris."

"What are your plans for the estate?" The Baron released Jeanne almost instantly at the mention of the Musketeer's new life in Paris.

"The estate is of no more concern for me." He told the man whose eyebrows raised in what Athos could only assume was a mixture of delight and surprise at his bluntness. "I have renounced my title and relocated my life to Paris."

"One cannot renounce what is given by God." The Baron's outrage was evident as his eyes went wide at the mere thought of simply throwing away a title of nobility.

"God had no part in the matters of my estate." Athos' words were blunt as he toyed with the rim of his cup.

"I've never heard of such a thing!" The Baron gasped. "What about your position? Your responsibility to the social order? This land is a sacred trust: it is your birth right and your family name!"

"I am not asking for your approval." Athos met his eyes with a cool stare and the Baron quickly ceased in his objections. "I am still the legal landowner and as such I must have your undertaking that my tenants will be left in peace."

Shock still raced through the Baron as he stood from the table and took his place at his son's side.

"Perhaps you care more for such low people..." He sneered at Jeanne and Bertrand. "...now that you are one of them yourself." Athos refused to rise to the obvious jibe and instead remained seated, his gaze stead on the old man as he moved once more to stand beside the former Comte. "However, I promise you they will be treated as they deserve." Athos said nothing as the man reluctantly held out a hand to the Musketeer and with a quick glance to a clearly relieved Jeanne and Bertrand he met it and shook.

Within seconds the Baron and his fuming son had exited the inn and were striding back to their horses, deep in discussion.

"Thank you." Jeanne's voice, which only an hour earlier had been shouting at him, was now calm. "I knew you'd help us." He met her eyes before draining the cup he had been avoiding during his talk with the Baron. With a curt nod to the pair, he pushed back his seat and followed the path out the door and back into the unrelenting heat.

"If you aren't the Comte anymore..." Athos paused at his words and turned, squinting against the sunlight as the Baron and his son moved away from their horses and back into the centre of the square, the villagers clearly holding their breaths for his next words. "...then you're the same as them...and so you must kneel in the presence of your betters."

"You gave me your word." Athos felt his rage ignite as he realised the Baron had no intention of honouring his words.

"I don't negotiate with peasants." The Musketeer's hands curled into fists at the Baron's smugness. "I said kneel!" With the flick of his wrist, two men appeared from nowhere and began trying to force Athos to his knees.

The Musketeer let out a roar before singlehandedly taking them out and quickly disposing of the additional men the Baron was silently instructing to restrain him. But it was not, the uniformed men who eventually brought him to his knees, no, it was the pistol swung across his spine that forced him into the dirt, the swish of an ornate cloak being the last thing he saw as he landed on his stomach.

"No!"

He heard the protests of the gentle innkeeper as the Comte was forced to remain on the floor after a swift kick to his ribs. The man tried in vain to push past the Baron's household guard but was held back as his daughter too tried to breach their perimeter around the fallen Liege Lord.

"The Comte de la Fere is no more." Athos was kicked onto his back as the Baron addressed the citizens of Pinon. "This man is a vagrant and an imposter." He sneered at the now dirty clothes of the Musketeer. "The punishment for such a crime must be exemplary."

_______________________________________________________________________________

"How much further, Mamma?" The silence of the dirt road was broken by a young blonde as she patted the sturdy neck of the horse beneath her and turned to the woman riding beside her.

"Not far." The older woman told her golden haired daughter. "This road should take straight to the village and then we are to ask for an escort to the estate."

"I still don't understand why we had to leave Monsieur le Rey in Auxerre." Anna sighed. "He was so very nice."

"Yes, my sweet, but-"

"He bought me such pretty dresses." The blonde picked at the plain gown she was now dressed in. "And he said that a very special commission was on its way to me but you whisked us away before it could arrive."

"My sweet-"

"It's just not fair, Mamma." She huffed. "He was so very kind to us; giving us a cottage to live in and allowing me to sit on Lucien's lessons." Her lips curled into a light smile.

"Enough." Anna glanced over to her mother who held her horse's reigns tightly in her fists. "My darling, as much as I love you, you are so easily blinded..." She pulled her horse to a stop and Anna, frowning, did the same. "Le Rey was not the wonderful man you believe him to be." She told her daughter. "And that 'special commission', Antoinette, think about it." She urged her daughter but sighed at the blank expression on her face. "A special dress to be worn at a secret party just for you? My sweet..."

"How could I be so foolish?" Anna held her head in her hands as her mother's words finally clicked into place. "I thought he intended me to marry Lucien when we were both older, especially once he learnt of Father's title, but...oh Mamma, I'm such a fool!" Her mind was suddenly filled with memories of Le Rey always smiling just a little too much when she twirled in her new gowns.

"My sweet dove." She reached across to grasp her daughter's hand. "It is not your fault. I should have seen it sooner but I too was blinded by his generosity especially as we arrived without a penny to our names after your father's death." The women exchanged small smiles as Anna's father came to mind. "Alas, le Rey and his estate was not the future we thought it would be." She released her daughters hand and the pair urged their horses onwards along the dirt road.

"Tell me more about where we're going, Mamma."

"We're going to the home of the Comte and Comtesse de La Fere." The woman beamed proudly as she enunciated the noble name. "They have two sons; the oldest apparently only a year or two older than you but there is quite an age difference between him and the younger." Anna let her mind wander as her mother's words rolled over her; images of the family she was soon to meet filling her mind. "Their governess has just left and they are more than happy to accept both of us."

"Do they know about father and uncle?"

"No my sweet, and I have no plans on telling them; you see how it got us in hot water with Le Rey?"

"I still don't see why uncle sent us away, Mamma."

"He wanted the estate, my sweet dove, and after your father's death...we were the only things stopping him from getting it."

"But we survived." Anna grinned at her mother, desperate to get rid of the dark cloudds that had formed over them.

"Yes we did, ma douce colombe, yes we did."

The women shared another smile as the road veered left and the pair trotted into the small village ahead of them, their greatest adventure just beginning.

_______________________________________________________________________________

Once again, Athos was unable to pinpoint exactly where he was when consciousness began to return to his body. All he knew was that the Baron, the man who had promised to leave the people of Pinon alone, had lied.

That, and the rope currently suspending him in mid-air in the centre of the silent village, was chafing like hell.

His eyes were like slits as he surveyed the scene around him; the villagers all silent as they waited, with baited breath, for the Baron's next move as the man himself sat directly opposite the former Comte - a sadistic smile on his face as he nodded to his son.

The boy took two steps forward but that was not what caught Athos' attention. No, it was the woman standing hidden behind the blacksmiths store and specifically the pistol in her hand...the pistol pointing straight at him. He felt his eyes open further as he caught sight of the auburn hair escaping from her hat and his stomach sunk as recognition overcame him and suddenly, he understood why she was aiming to kill.

"You can't do this!" Hi attention shifted from the would-be murderess as Bertrand called out, breaking the line of villagers as he spoke.

His attempt to overcome Edmond was futile and soon the innkeeper was face-first in the dust; the boy's whip repeatedly lashing through his clothing and slicing into the soft skin of his back as Edmond shouted:

"Get your filthy hands off me!"

"Leave him alone!" Jeanne swiftly joined her father on the floor and had Athos any more strength he would have called out against the unnecessary cruelty to the father and daughter, alas, the simple fact that his wrists were slowly sliding from their sockets was currently exhausting him.

He opened his mouth to protest as the whipping of Bertrand continued but was cut off by the unexpected sound of a gunshot. His eyes scrunched shut as he anticipated the musket ball flying straight towards him and wasn't sure whether or not it was a sick joke that his last ever sight would be this damned place.

But even he did not expect to instead be met by the solid ground and a quick move of his still bound hands told him that she had not in fact shot to kill but to release him from his suspension.

"Soldiers are coming!"

Fighting the urge to both laugh and cry, Athos rolled from the well above which he had been suspended as the Baron quickly digested the news.

"Withdraw!" That one word, shouted by the old man, was the salvation Athos needed and within seconds the Baron's men were fleeing the village just as five sets of hooves filled the air.

He forced down a groan as the number resonated with him; five - Aramis, Porthos, D'Artagnan, Treville and of course, Anna.

Deep down he knew he should have expected it; the group never one for simply shrugging off an unexplained absence but honestly - he cut off his internal monologue as screams filled the air and, pushing himself to his feet he shouted after the retreating men as he watched Jeanne kick and scratch her way out of their hold to no avail and soon, the girl was riding away; far from her after and with the men he trusted the least to not harm her.

_______________________________________________________________________________

Pinon was in chaos.

That was Anna's first thought as they came galloping down the last stretch of the dirt road. The five had been happily chatting away; their horses relaxing into a gentle walk as the road ahead thinned and Pinon started to come into view, but had spurred their steeds onwards as a single gunshot rang out.

She knew the men had traded worried looks as she abruptly ended their conversation and had barrelled on ahead, but there was a darkness pooling in the pit of her stomach and she knew that gunshot meant nothing but trouble.

Her horse came to a sharp stop as she crossed the threshold into Pinon and mere moments later she was joined by four other horses.

Her eyes flitted around the village as she remained atop her steed. The breath in her breast was coming in short bursts as she was overwhelmingly bombarded with memories of the place. Her grip on the reigns tightened as they culminated in a single image; death.

Forcing her eyes open, they landed almost instantly on a clearly defeated Athos. Her breathing calmed as she saw he was not only alive but also unscathed as Porthos cut through the ropes on his wrists. Taking a deep breath, she moved her gaze on from Athos and to the group of people whispering quickly amongst themselves against the dreary backdrop of the impoverished town Pinon had become.

Shaking her head she noted that she was now the only one still atop her horse and that the Musketeers were watching her carefully.

"What happened?" Her voice was stronger than she thought it would be as she cast her gaze around the village and the people eyeing her carefully as she sat straight as a pole in her saddle.

"Baron de Louviers."

_______________________________________________________________________________

Bertrand's back was a handful of lashes away from being mere ribbons of blood. Anna flinched at the sight as the innkeeper lifted his shirt and took a seat on the chair Porthos ha dragged outside while Aramis rummaged for the medical supplies he always carried with his horse.

"What will they do with my Jeanne?" He asked, clutching her hand as Aramis took a stand behind him and studied the wounds.

"Don't worry; we'll find her." She promised, squeezing his hand before taking a step away as Aramis readied the bottle of alcohol to sterilize his back.

"Give up your title if it makes you happy, I mean that, but think about these people; they live on your land and they need your help."

With a simple clear of her throat she ushered D'Artagnan and his intended words of encouragement from the side of the Comte de la Fere.

"I have nothing to offer them." Athos told her as the boy left them.

"Then do nothing." She took the bottle of wine from his hand and took a swig. "But I'm staying and I'm pretty sure they are too." She nodded to the Musketeers; Aramis dealing with Bertrand, Porthos and D'Artagnan discussing a plan and Treville simply mingling as he tried to gain more information on the situation.

"Let them stay." His words were emotionless. "We have no reason to stay." He took the bottle back.

"I don't think you heard me...I'm staying here." Her voice was laced with confusion. "Those men took Jeanne; someone I have known since she I first came here...I'm not leaving this place until its people are safe, Athos..." She stared incredulously at him as he refused to face her and instead stared out into the emptying village square. "...we owe them that."

"We owe them nothing!" His harsh whisper caught the attention of the gathered Musketeers but he ignored them. "I have nothing for them."

"The Athos I know; the Musketeer, always fights against injustice...whether it's against King's or peasants...why do you not offer your own people the same courtesy?"

"No." He pushed past her.

"When you came to me and said that you'd joined the Musketeers, I said nothing!" She shouted after him, forcing him to halt. "I stood by you in your time of need and left my home." He still refused to turn to her and she was now very aware of the eyes of the village on her. "I'm asking you to stand by me this time."

"This is not your fight." He turned his head slowly as he spoke, their eyes meeting.

"No, you're right..." She conceded, her eyes alight. "It's your fight, Monsieur de Comte de la Fere...but you made it my fight all those years ago!" She took a breath before closing the gap between them slightly and speaking as calmly as she could; "We left because someone took our reason to live...don't let the same thing happen to these people, your people."

There was a beat of silence between them before Athos fully turned to her. Heaving a sigh of relief that her words had worked, she opened her mouth once more to call the Musketeers to action but felt all words escape her as he reached out for the reigns of the nearest horse, pulled himself into the saddle and simply rode out of town.

"What do we do now, my Lady?" Bertrand's voice was faint as she watched Athos disappear down a road she knew too well.

"We fight."

_______________________________________________________________________________

The sword at Athos' side felt heavy as he dragged his feet into the chateau. His training session had been exhausting this morning as he pushed himself harder than ever in an effort to please his father.

He knew that the endless interviews his parents had been holding to try and find a new governess for Thomas had wearing the man out and so, the future Comte was looking forward to showing him how much he honed his skill with a rapier.

The young man was lost in thought as he rounded the top of the staircase and slammed directly into a body moving in the opposite direction. His hands acted on instinct and a fraction of a second later the figure was not sprawled on the floor as expected but safely held against his chest, their legs intertwined as he steadied them.

"My apologies, monsieur." It was only when the breathless voice of a girl floated up to him, did Athos realise he had no idea who the young woman in his arms was.

"No apologies necessary, mademoiselle." He assured her, their eyes connecting and the young Lord suddenly found himself lost the endless blue peering up at him.

"Athos!" The pair turned their heads quickly as the name was called and Athos felt a light blush settle on his cheeks as his father raised an eyebrow at the sight before him.

"Father." He felt the woman's spine straighten at the title before she quickly untangled herself from his hold and fell into a curtsey before the older man.

"Monsieur." She addressed his father, her eyes never leaving the floor. "It is an honour to meet you, my Comte."

"No need for that, girl." The Comte de la Fere insisted as she rose from her place. "We don't do that sort of thing here."

And he was right; the home of the Comte de la Fere was perhaps one of the few noble households in France who did away with the tight restrictions of courtly behaviour; the family opting instead to try and be as normal as possible while surrounded with the seclusion of the sleepy countryside.

"I see you've met my son, Athos." She nodded lightly, her eyes flitting to him and a gentle smile forming on her lips. "My wife is showing your mother the room we've set aside for Thomas' schooling." He told her as he moved to pass them and descend the staircase. "You're more than welcome to join her."

"I can show her, father." The old man nodded before leaving them. "So your mother is going to be my brother's new governess?"

"It would seem so." She mused, smiling as he gestured for her to join him as they walked along the endless corridor. "Pinon seems like a lovely village." She complimented, hoping to fill the silence that had fallen over them as she sneaked the occasional peek at the man.

"It is." He assured her. "Perhaps...perhaps I could take you there...if you wanted." He wanted to kick himself for stammering. "But I imagine you'd rather settle in first; the rooms mother has set aside for you are quite lovely, they overlook the fields and-"

"I'd love to." She interrupted as they came to a stop outside a small room.

"Excellent." He grinned at her before realising his error in decorum. "Forgive me, I...I do not know your name."

"Anna." She smiled as he took her hand and pressed a light kiss to its back.

"A pleasure to meet you, Anna...I hope you'll enjoy our home."

______________________________________________________________________________

Athos' mind was full of memories as he stared up at the dilapidated house before him. Ravaged by a fire his former sister-in-law had started, the once magnificent home was now almost in ruins; its roof bare and walls crumbling.

It didn't take much effort to get the grand entrance doors open and moments later he was inside the house of hell. Visiting here periodically when Anna was away wasn't nearly as painful as it was now, perhaps it was the condition of his childhood home or perhaps it was because he never thought he'd be forced back here but he knew the truth; the village had been too much for him.

The backroads around Pinon were one thing but to actually stand amongst his people again, the people he had turned his back on without a second thought...it was too much for him to bear.

And now, as he picked his way through rubble, he could feel the guilt kick in. He had left them. He, the Comte de la Fere, had left his people in the hands of a ruthless tyrant who was desperate to be higher than he was.

As he made his way to the second floor he couldn't fight the smile that blossomed when he began to actually hear the life that had once filled this place; the peals of laughter as he chased Thomas down the staircase and out into the sunlight, his mother's shouts of Be careful and the adoration in his father's eyes as he chuckled at the sight.

Moving along the landing, it all came back to him; the sunlight streaming through the windows as he awkwardly chatted with a young Anna, desperate for an excuse to spend more time with the girl who had stolen his heart upon their first meeting.

And then he came to it; the room that held every horror this house had ever seen. The former living room was now black from floor to ceiling but Athos could see it only as it once was; the room where he had had his life ripped apart by its very seams...twice.

_______________________________________________________________________________

Desperate footsteps running up the staircase was the only sound in the entire house. They seemed to stretch on forever, the staircase suddenly ten times longer than usual as Athos and his brother shared a tense look.

"What's happened?"

Her hair was all over the place and her breathing laboured as Anna skidded around the corner and came to a stop in the parlour.

"Athos? Thomas?"

"I'm so sorry, Anna." He wasn't even aware he had spoken until she let out a cry and began to crumple to the floor. He was there immediately, falling with her as she sobbed and wailed.

"No!" She protested, fighting against his hold as she tried to stand. "No! She wouldn't leave me, she can't leave me!" He held her close, forcing her face to stay nestled into his shoulder to avoid the sight of her mother's body being carried from the house. "I've got no one else!" She sobbed.

"You've got us." Thomas' voice was barely above a whisper as he joined them in the doorway, a hand on her back as sobs continued to wrack through her. "Just like we had you."

Jacqueline Beauchamp was the last victim of the influenza that had ravaged the French countryside, claiming not just villagers but also the Comte and Comtesse de la Fere.

The mother and daughter had barely been at the house a year when the fever struck and one by one, the three children watched their parents be stolen from them. Suddenly they had all lost their childhood innocence, Athos more than anyone as out of nowhere he was the Comte de La Fere with all of the responsibility and none of the experience.

"Stay with us." Athos insisted.

"I can't." She mumbled, her sobs quieting slightly as the brothers embraced her. "I can't impinge on your-"

"Stay with us."

The words were no longer a suggestion and suddenly Athos had carried out his first act since receiving his new title; he had built a family and was going to fight for them no matter what.

_______________________________________________________________________________

He couldn't believe that in this very room he had faced death twice, first his parents and then Thomas...how fitting for his brother to take his last breath in the very room where their childhood had been stolen from them.

"A sorry sight, isn't it?" He spun as a new voice filled the air and felt his eyes widen as the woman from the village stood before him; red hair falling from its braid and the pistol still in her hands.

"Catherine."

_______________________________________________________________________________

"They keep calling you; my Lady."

Anna's head snapped up as D'Artagnan's words made her jump. Glancing around the small inn, she realised the villagers had left them, likely moments ago, and that the Musketeers were the only ones still in the wooden space.

"Sorry?" She asked, shaking her head to rid her of the memories that had invaded her brain since first stepping foot onto the dusty ground.

"The villagers..." He elaborated. "...they keep calling you; my Lady."

"A habit I couldn't break them of." She explained, laughing at the curious expressions on all of their faces. "It was either; my Lady, or, Madame Comtesse." She told them reaching for the jug of wine to refill her cup. "And I couldn't exactly take a title that wasn't mine."

"How long did you live here?"

"Long enough." She sighed, rising from the chair she had claimed when Treville and Bertrand had spread out a map and plotted their rescue course.

"And how long were you and Ath-"

"I'd end that question there if I were you, Aramis." She fixed the Musketeer with a withering stare. "We're not here so I can recount my life story, we're here to rescue Jeanne and stop Renard." She reminded them. "Bertrand is counting on us to bring his daughter back, so anyone willing to stop playing 20 questions can meet me outside in 10 minutes.

"Aye, my Lady." She responded to Porthos' grin with a swift punch in the arm before striding out of the inn and into the sunlight.

"Would anyone else kill to hear their full story?" Aramis asked with a sigh as he drained his cup. "There's so much we don't know."

"We've all got secrets." Treville reminded him.

"But come on; Athos taking her as a mistress and not a wife?" Aramis mused. "Doesn't really seem his style." D'Artagnan nodded in agreement.

"And she doesn't strike me as the sort to go along with it." He added and Aramis hummed in agreement. "Maybe they just never got around to marrying?"

"It's none of our business." Treville silenced them with a warning stare before following Anna's path out the door. "Rescue the girl and we'll regroup back here to figure out stage 2."

"But still..." Aramis mused as they all stood.

"I'm all for her being asked..." Porthos told them. "...just as long as I don't have to do it." Aramis and D'Artagnan fixed him with raised eyebrows before he nodded to his upper arm. "That's going to leave a bruise and I'd rather her not attack anything more...vital."

The two Musketeers winced as the penny dropped in their minds and they each moved their hands lower to protect themselves.

"Agreed."

________________________________________________________________________________

"When my father died his debts took everything, including the house." Catherine told him as she led him through the ruined chateau. "So, I packed everything I could carry, came back here expecting a semi-warm welcome and when I found the house in this state..." She gestured around her to the completely charred building. "...I moved into your servant's quarters."

He watched as she led him down into the lowermost area of the house and with a simple nudge on a partially burnt door, he was transported from the blackened estate to the still bright and habitable serving quarters.

He let his hand run over the unmarred walls and intact windows that allowed the light to flood the room. But underneath the gloriously unburnt quarters, he could see exactly how Catherine was living in the house; the room was littered with pots of herbs and from the ceiling hung pelts. The furniture was basic, as expected from serving quarters, and he wasn't exactly sure how she cooked down here; the main kitchen being situated on the other side of the ground floor.

"You live like this?"

"I survive." She corrected, a tense smile on her lips. "It's not quite what I was promised when I was betrothed to..." She trailed off, swallowing hard. "But I hunt and trap my own food." She gestured to the bow resting against the wall. "It's amazing what you can learn when you've run out of choices."

He nodded slowly, his hand absentmindedly running over the burns the ropes hanging him up in the village had left on his wrists.

"I can give you something for that." She nodded to the red marks as she moved to a small cupboard of pre-prepared herbs and began compiling a poultice.

"I saw you in the village." He told her. "But I didn't recognise you...the clothes are-"

"The height of fashion in Paris, or so I'm told." She smiled tightly.

"That was quite a shot you made." He complimented, choosing to skip over her comment.

"Thomas taught me to shoot." She told him, her smile relaxing at the mention of his brother. "Just as you taught him." She moved back to him and pressed the poultice to his worsts; the skin instantly cooling. "I was listening behind the inn: I heard what you said to Renard...about giving up your title." She looked up at him. "Is it true?"

He said nothing and she forced another sickly smile before stepping back and leading him into her small sitting room.

"She was nothing more than a common thief and a fraud." She spat. "How she convinced him to marry her...I'll never know."

"He loved her."

"He loved the idea of her!" She protested, her voice raising harshly. She took a breath as she realised he was watching her closely. "Raspberry brandy?" She offered, reaching for the bottle and gesturing for him to take a seat as she composed herself. "Not quite vintage, but it's good." She assured him as she handed him a glass. "To old times." She toasted.

"The one thing I can't drink to." He told her before sniffing the liquid.

"Was it all so bad?" She asked, leaning against a wall and staring down at him as he took a drink from the glass goblet. "We've known each other since we were children and there were happy times." She smiled. "Have you forgotten what our fathers wanted for us?" She asked coyly and Athos sighed.

"We were too young to be betrothed."

"We would have married." She told him adamantly. "But then she showed up and when your father saw how lovesick you were for her; the governess' daughter..." She sneered. "...and I was quietly passed on to Thomas." She took a drink and then let out a humourless laugh. "And then, in another cruel twist of fate, he fell in love and you; the new Comte, decided to let him marry the murderess!"

"You've been hurt too much because of me."

"Because of them." She corrected. "The women you deemed better than me." Her eyes were cold as she spoke. "I didn't see Antoinette in the village...got bored of you did she? Ran off with another soldier?" He felt his hand tighten around the glass. "Tell me, Athos, in all these years, has my suffering ever crossed your mind once?" She asked.

"If there's anything I can do to make this..." He gestured around them. "...better, please let me-"

"You could turn back time." She interrupted, her voice furious. "You could go back and see them as the whores they were!"

"Enough." His voice was low but she instantly silenced as she saw the warning in his gaze. "I'm sorry for your losses, Catherine, but there is nothing I can do to change them."

The room was silent as she digested his words before carefully and quietly asking her most important question.

"Are you going to stop Renard?"

"It's not my battle." The words were sour in his mouth now, every syllable felt like a punch to the gut as he recalled Anna's words.

"They might have killed you today." She noted, clearing fishing for another compliment.

"All the more reason to leave."

"I've no argument with the Baron." She told him. "All I want is to restore the estate to its proper place; to have something of my old life back...perhaps he can give me that."

"Renard can't be trusted."

"Who else can I trust? You?"

The Athos I know always fights against injustice...offer your own people the same courtesy

Anna's words ran through his head as he stared up at Catherine and in that moment, he knew what he had to do.

_______________________________________________________________________________

"There's not enough powder or shot to frighten the birds, let alone Renard's men."

Anna sighed at Treville's update and slowed her pace to a stop as she ran a hand through her hair; the people of Pinon were farmers not soldiers and she should have known better than to expect them to keep some sort of armoury hidden beneath the village.

"If we trained them..." She began, addressing all of the Musketeers. "Could we make a go of it?" She looked from man to man as each mulled the thought over.

"Not unless the Baron is willing to wait a couple of years." She let out a defeated sigh at Porthos' words and nodded slowly.

"There are no horses, no swords and no firearms." Treville told her. "They have literally nothing but farming equipment."

"How much would we need?" She asked, an idea forming in her mind.

"At least one pistol each and enough powder to power it."

"And if I could get that..." She turned to Aramis. "...you could teach them?"

"With a couple of hours and enough powder going spare..." She looked hopefully up at him and he conceded. "...yes."

"Okay then." She clapped her hands together. "You said the Baron's hunting lodge was only about three leagues west?" She asked Aramis and Porthos who nodded. "Excellent, you two go and rescue Jeanne and I'll..." She took a breath. "...I'll go up to the house and bring back what I can."

"The house?"

"There's a store of weapons and powder there and -"

"We'll need a lot." Porthos cut across her. "How much is there?"

"Enough to make a fight of it."

Anna felt her spine straighten as a new voice joined the conversation. She watched as the faces of her gathered Musketeers broke out into smiles and took a second before turning and coming face to face with Athos.

"You came back." She observed. "What made you change your mind?"

"I heard a compelling argument from a former resident." He raised an eyebrow at her and she scoffed.

"So compelling you rode off in a huff?"

"Do you want to get the weapons or do you want to stand here and chat?"

She grinned slightly at his stubbornness and turned back to the men.

"Okay, new plan..."

_______________________________________________________________________________

The forest bordering the Baron de Louviers hunting lodge was dense, with fallen stumps and vines masking the natural path of the forest floor and forcing the three Musketeers to tread very carefully as they approached the lodge.

"When you say; burnt to a crisp..." Anna began, as they led their horses to the edge of the land. "...what exactly do you mean?"

"Milady de Winter set to fire to it with Athos still inside." Aramis told her, very much regretting starting this conversation.

"And why exactly, did she do that?" The two men exchanged a look before shrugging at her.

"It was D'Artagnan who pulled him out." Porthos said. "All he told us was that she set the place on fire, knowing he was in there."

"And remind me why you there?"

"This one got shot while we were tracking down a merchant." Aramis nodded to the burly Musketeer at his side.

"Bonnaire was a slaver." Porthos corrected. "We were on our way back from Le Havre when it happened and well... we were nearby so he brought us here."

"And the trip ended with my former home being burnt to the ground by the woman who married and then killed his brother?"

"Pretty much." Porthos grinned, glad that the woman between them was not currently on the verge of tears at the thought of her home being reduced to rubble.

"One more th-"

"Shhhh." Aramis' warning cut her off and instantly she and Porthos were on high alert as the lodge came closer into view and they moved their horses, as quietly as possible, to the rear of the building.

"To village whores and farmer's daughters!" Anna sneered at the toast that was responded to with cheers from inside the house.

Aramis nodded towards an unguarded entry and it took mere seconds for them to cross the small patch of land between them and the house and slip inside. The hunting lodge was filled with chants and cheers as the men prepared for what Anna suspected would be a wholly disgusting affair if they got their hands on Jeanne.

Silently, they made their way up onto the second story of the lodge and after a quick hand-signal from Aramis; they split up to investigate each room they passed.

Anna was sticking her head into an empty cupboard space when a whispered I've got her reached her ears. She crept as quietly and quickly as possible to the room where Porthos and Aramis were trying to calm the girl as she fought her restraints.

"Jeanne!" Her voice was louder than she hoped as she laid eyes on the girl, but the continuous chanting from below covered her. "Jeanne, it's me." She pushed past the men who the girl had mistakenly taken as the Baron's men, and moved towards her.

She watched as the girl's muffled cries stopped and her eyes widened.

"We're here to save you." She promised, pulling a dagger from her belt and cutting at the ropes holding her to the bed. "We're taking you home."

The chanting grew louder and a slurry of curses tumbled from Aramis as he stuck his head out into the corridor and saw the Baron's men begin to filter out and line the staircase.

"Remind me what the back-up plan was?"

_______________________________________________________________________________

It was shocking really, how easy it was to convince the Baron and his men that they'd escaped. Anna had called them both mad when Aramis and Porthos had suggested the plan but, as the chants grew louder, she had had no choice but to give in.

And as they galloped away from the hunting lodge, she had to give it to them and their quick thinking.

"I didn't think it would work." Porthos laughed as they slowed their horses once far enough away from the lodge.

"You're telling me that there was a chance we could've all died?" She asked incredulously as Jeanne laughed from her seat behind her on the saddle.

"But we didn't, my Lady!" Aramis grinned at Jeanne's words.

"We're just lucky that centuries of in-breeding has made the aristocracy stupid." He agreed.

"No offence." Porthos smirked at her.

"You, Porthos du Vallon, clearly have a death wish." Aramis laughed as Anna threatened to get off her horse and show exactly how much of a lady she was with the assistance of her pistol.

________________________________________________________________________________

"So what really made you change your mind?" D'Artagnan asked as he watched Athos retrieve a small key from a drawer in the empty servants' quarters of the chateau.

"She was right..." He told him, moving to a cabinet that once was full of china. "...whatever happened here, the people of Pinon are not to blame; they shouldn't suffer because of me."

He slotted the key into the back of the cabinet and with one turn a locked clicked. Grinning, he slid his hands behind it and pulled, revealing a secret passage.

"Every nobleman had to raise a local militia in times of war." He told him as they entered the passageway and descended deep below the house. "My father kept a secret armoury..." He led them to an iron gate and used the same key to open the old lock. "...and I kept the tradition." He flung open the gate to reveal a tomb filled with swords and crates of pistols.

D'Artagnan entered ahead of him, holding up a small lantern to inspect the haul. He kicked up a rapier from its holding and practised a few moves with it, grinning at Athos when it passed its test.

"A little battered, but just about serviceable." Athos murmured as he threw back the sheet covering a crate of pistols and examined one.

"Are you talking about yourself or the pistol?" D'Artagnan joked as Athos rolled his eyes at the Musketeer he still saw as a boy and not a soldier.

"It was always a good, dry cellar so the powder won't have spoiled." He told him, gesturing to the barrels, but turned when D'Artagnan said nothing. He heaved a sigh when he saw what had taken his attention. "The family vault." He moved to stand beside him at the stone slab which held the names of the dead. "My ancestors..." He gestured to the walls which were also lined with names and dates. "...a dozen generations or so."

"Is that...?"

D'Artagnan gestured to the name closest to them and watched as Athos wiped away the layer of dust that coated the final resting place of his brother.

"Yes." His voice was broken again as he traced the letters of a name he would never forget before shaking himself and being grateful that Anna had not joined him; the sight of Thomas' tomb was one she swore she would never see. "Is the powder good?" He asked, shaking himself.

"I think so."

"Then let's get out of here." He picked up a barrel of the stuff and led the way back upstairs and out to the wagon they had borrowed from the village.

The pair made several trips up and down to the cellar until the wagon held all it could. A part of Athos was saddened to see his father's prized armoury being used to fight a greedy Baron and not the war the old man had intended it for, but rationalizing current need over an unlikely war, he loaded pistol after pistol and rapier after rapier onto the cart.

"That's all of the gunpowder." He told D'Artagnan as he placed the last barrel onto the wagon.

He double checked the contents of the cart and was mid count when a not-so-subtle throat clear from D'Artagnan caught his attention. He glanced up to the boy who had taken his seat at the front of the cart and turned around as he nodded behind him.

"Ah." He mused as a woman who had been surprisingly absent from the serving quarters stepped out. "D'Artagnan, allow me to introduce my childhood friend and former betrothed; Catherine de Garouville."

D'Artagnan opened his mouth to greet the woman when she cut across him.

"Is he a Musketeer too?" D'Artagnan angled o show her the pauldron on his shoulder and she sneered. "From the Comte de la Fere to a common soldier..." She stepped forward and picked at Athos' cloak. "...it makes no sense."

"It makes sense to me." Athos told her, pushing her hands away from him. "More than anything else."

"So you are going to fight Renard?" She asked, stepping back and crossing her arms, hoping D'Artagnan missed the subtle rejection.

"Come with us." Athos offered. "You'll be better off with the other villagers."

"Don't confuse me with them." She spat. "I wasn't born to this life."

"Forgive me...I was simply thinking of your safety." He told her as he turned back to the wagon to resume counting.

"I can look after myself." She told him adamantly as he nodded to himself and climbed up into the seat beside D'Artagnan.

"Oh." He stopped him from ushering the horses on. "There's something you should know..." He leant slightly so he was eye level with the red-head. "...Helene is still alive; she lives in Paris and is mistress to the King." He watched her eyes go wide before adding. "And Anna is currently rescuing the innkeeper's daughter from Renard, after we protect the town, we will return to Paris where she and I live together." He sat up straight, moving his eyes from her. "She is more my wife than you will ever be."

"They ruined my life!" She seethed as he settled on the wooden bench. "Destroyed all my hope and dreams!" She tried to make him face her. "Your brothers murderer still breathes and-"

"And if you so much as utter the word whore again...you'll find yourself much worse off than those you do not wish to be confused with."

With the click of his tongue the horses were moving and the pair of Musketeer's rolled away from a seething Catherine.

"Admit it..." D'Artagnan turned to his mentor. "...that felt good."

"I should have left when I had the chance."

"But then your...wife..." He coughed to hide a grin as Athos glared at him. "...Would never have forgiven you."

"Just drive the damn cart."

_______________________________________________________________________________

The sun was ow in the sky as they rode back into Pinon. They had barely crossed the threshold of the village before shouts of 'Jeanne's back' filled the air. They came to a stop in the centre of the town and Porthos was off his saddle in an instant and helping the girl to the ground.

"You brought my Jeanne home!" Bertrand exclaimed as he rushed to meet his daughter. Anna smiled gently as he encased the girl in a hug, squeezing her tightly as thought to make sure she were real. "Did they hurt you?" He asked, holding her out at arm's length to inspect her.

"No." She sighed.

"Thank God you're safe." He pulled her to him again. "Thank you, my Lady." He inclined his head to Anna as the woman watched from her saddle.

"Renard won't come in the dark." Aramis told Treville as the man stepped out to greet them. "Not across marshy ground...but he'll come."

"Drinks for everyone!" Bertrand's cry carried around the gathered village as each person waiting to embrace Jeanne and Anna fought a laugh as Aramis and Porthos exchanged a look of glee before following the man inside the small inn.

"Thank you." Anna glanced back down to her horse's side as Jeanne peered up at her. "I hoped you'd get the message as well but...I wasn't sure if you were still..." She trailed off as Anna swung down from her saddle.

"Athos is a good man." She told the girl as she took her arm and allowed her to lead her towards the tavern. "His intentions were honourable but...he should know better than to keep something like this from me."

"I know you've always denied it, my Lady..." Jeanne began as a cloud of dust reached the village again and settled to reveal a cart driven by two Musketeers entering the town. "...but you've always been our Comtesse."

_______________________________________________________________________________

The inn was packed to the brim as the whole village waited for their Comte to speak. Drinks were flowing happily between people and Anna smiled as she even saw Treville take a turn behind the bar.

She was currently perched on a rickety stool at the back of the inn, keeping an eye on her Musketeers as they drank and chatted with the locals. An easy smile found its way onto her lips as she noted how easily they fitted in here and wondered, very briefly, what life would be like if they all stayed here and never returned to the dangerous streets of Paris.

The thought was quashed, however, after one look in D'Artagnan's eyes and she realised how much he missed his beloved even when they were in the same city, never mind being a day's ride apart.

Her thoughts were interrupted as the rear entrance opened and Athos strolled in. The reaction was automatic; the villagers quieted while the Musketeers all rose and flocked to the empty table he sat at. The villagers weren't completely silent as the five-some settled but Anna noted how they eyed the table of soldiers and the fact that they seemed to be conversing using only their eyes and facial expressions, warily.

"It's true..." The room silenced completely as Athos turned to the crowd after receiving long stares from his comrades. "...I left without a word and never gave a thought to your fate." He paused. "But you have made my absence a reason to surrender responsibility for your own lives."

"What future do we have without the protection of a lord?" Jeanne asked and Anna smirked at her spirit. "What choice, when our lives are not our own?"

"Then take Renard; let him have the land and you with it. Exchange one noble name for another." He sighed. "Your attachment to my family is touching, but it is no longer practical.

"This land belongs to you." She protested.

"It can rot for all I care."

"But it's our home - everything we know." Bertrand protested, moving from the bar to stand with his daughter.

"Then take it." He rose to face the man and the whole village. "I've no use for it: I give it to you."

She let out a breath at his words and wished she had not finished her drink before his arrival.

"Face down Renard, defend the village and the land that your family has worked for generations, will be yours." He told them.

"Listen to me, all of you..." Treville rose to stand with his Lieutenant as he addressed the crowd. "...in any war, you have two choices...you can sue for peace on the best terms you can get, or, you can fight." He let the word hang in the air before continuing. "If you choose to fight, we will stand with you. But ask yourselves: is your cause worth dying for?"

"We're dying already." Bertrand reminded him.

"How can we defeat Renard and his men? We're not soldiers." Treville turned to the villager who had spoken.

"You are defending your homes, your children... your lives. You have something worth fighting for. Do they? If you choose to make a stand, be here at sun up."

"And he says he's not Captain." Anna scoffed as the villagers dispersed to their beds for the night. "Liar."

________________________________________________________________________________

She didn't want to leave the inn.

It was honestly that simple; she didn't want to leave the building and for once it wasn't because she wanted to stay in bed rather than stand in the dust at dawn waiting for the villager of Pinon to make up their minds about fighting Renard.

No, today it was because Jeanne had woken with her and the female Musketeer, who had rightfully earnt her place in the regiment by fighting men double her size, was powerless to resist the girl as she forced her into a chair and made her sit while she did her hair.

"I've been practicing." She had said as she twisted the hair and pinned it in place. "In case you came back one day for your wedding and needed me."

Anna had swallowed hard at that; forcing her lips shut and not ruining the moment the girl had obviously longed for. She couldn't tell her that marriage wasn't on the cards for them, not after all this time, and she wasn't even sure if he wanted it anyway...so she sat and smiled and watched as she transformed from a soldier back into a lady.

The worst part had been when she produced a dress from the trunk at the foot of her bed. Actually, the worst part had been not arguing the corset.

And so, that's how she currently found herself; all dolled up like the princess she had longed to be as a child, and loitering in the doorway of the inn.

"They're not coming." She rested her head against the wood as she heard Aramis' sighed remark.

"You can hardly blame them." D'Artagnan added and she let out a groan of frustration at the people.

"They've made their decision." Athos drawled and she finally had to agree with him; maybe coming back hadn't been such a good idea.

For instance, if she had stayed behind like Treville had wanted, she wouldn't currently be hiding from her brothers-in-arms because she was dressed as a version of herself that they had never encountered.

Five sets of footsteps drew closer to the inn's entrance and she held her breath, desperately hoping that someone, anyone would show so they would stumble upon her.

"Wait!" She released the breath as Treville stopped them. "Just you?" Her heart sank as she realised that just one person from the whole of Pinon had arrived ready to fight for their home.

"Please God." She whispered, hoping that the people would see sense and not leave themselves open to the Baron.

"Looks like we're staying." A laugh escaped her as Porthos' words reached her ears and Jeanne and her father strolled past her and into the light. "Just one question...how do we turn this bunch of misfits into a fighting force?"

She sent a prayer of thanks upwards but her moment of joy was short lived as a hand wrapped around her wrist and pulled her from the inn. She stepped into the sunlight as Porthos spoke again:

"Just one question...how do we turn this bunch of misfits into a fighting force?"

"If you can do it Porthos, anyone can." Aramis laughed at her statement and turned to her, his laugh dying as she shook Jeanne's hand from her arm and stepped further into the square, her head held high as her skirts swished.

"Jeanne?" Athos asked, his eyes gleaming with a smile as she came to a rest beside him.

"I don't know where she learnt to be so unarguable." She rolled her eyes as his smile deepened and he pressed a kiss to her forehead. "You boys never seen a lady in a dress before?"

She called over her shoulder, well aware that the jaws of Aramis, Porthos and D'Artagnan were still slack at her transformation.

"Do I have to do everything myself?" She huffed, rolling her eyes once again at them before bringing her fingers to her lips and letting out a whistle. "Let's get started."

_______________________________________________________________________________

The village square was as she had never seen it before; the Musketeers had spread out to form three distinct stations: Aramis and D'Artagnan at a make-shift shooting range, Treville had the strongest and was running through a set of lunges and protective stances with wooden poles and Athos and Porthos were running workshops on preparing pistols and reloading shots.

In her hand, was a rough map of Pinon that she had been sketching quietly as she let the men carry on with their lessons.

Truth be told, she was hoping to decipher a way of having the villagers fire as little shots as possible with no need for hand-to-hand combat, and judging by their progress with the Musketeers...that was definitely the way to go.

And so she planned and strategized and as she watched another group fall from the recoil of the pistols, a plan formed and she rushed off to make it real.

"This is where we make our stand." She told Treville as they stood side-by-side at one entrance to Pinon.

"Good." He eyed the villagers as they carried every item they could think of out of their homes and across the gateway. "They have to come to us."

"Exactly." She beamed. "I've had them block off the other entrances and so the barricades should hold to the south and west, and with water to the north, they've no choice but to take this path and we simply keep sending them back until they're exhausted."

"Good plan." He commended. "I remember why I hired you."

"You hired me because I pinned a man to the floor of your Garrison in under a minute." She reminded him with a wink before stepping out and calling: "We need everything you can find; chair, tables, barrels, baskets - if it's not nailed down we need it here, now!"

"They respond to you." She jumped as Athos appeared at her side.

"They respond to the dress and hair." She corrected. "I think I'm starting to see why Jeanne did this." She picked at the material. "They needed some sort of figure-head to reassure them that they still matter; you're too far gone; messy hair and soldier clothes..." She let her finger gently brush the loose strands of hair from his forehead. "...but I must be salvageable."

"I'd say you're far more than that." He smiled, an arm coming to rest upon her shoulders. "Look at what you've achieved; you united them to fight for their land."

"I seem to remember it was you standing in the middle of the inn, not me."

"But who's the one that made me stay?" He asked with a knowing grin that caused her to roll her eyes. "I need to talk to you about something, well, about Pinon." He told her, his eyes alight with a plan. "I want your blessing before I sign this all over to..." He trailed off as his eyes caught a figure moving towards them. "I wasn't sure you'd come." Athos' tone changed from playful to formal in a heartbeat and Anna glanced up to see who he was addressing.

"From what I've seen of these people, you need all the help you can get." Anna felt her jaw tighten as the red-head approaching them opened her mouth.

It was no secret that Catherine de Garouville and Antoinette Beauchamp were not the best of friends. The air around them seemed to thicken as each woman identified the other and while Catherine's hold on a small pouch tightened, so did Anna's on the edge of her lover's shirt.

"Catherine."

"Anna."

The villagers slowed as they watched the woman tersely greet each other.

"Here." The red-head broke first and held out the pouch in her hand. "The last few treasures I have left are in there." She told Anna as the blonde took the pouch.

"Thank you." Anna bit out. "I'll have them kept safe for you."

"Where do you need me?"

"Bad blood between them two?" Porthos asked as they watched Anna direct the red-headed stranger to a spot on the barricade.

"That's Athos' former betrothed." D'Artagnan informed him and heard Aramis whistle lightly under his breath.

"Oh she was far more than that." The three men turned to face Jeanne as the girl watched the woman take a spot between some villagers. "Just before the previous Comte died, he broke the engagement and told his son that he could marry whoever he wanted, and when he chose the governess' daughter over that of a Lord, well, Mademoiselle de Garouville spent her every stay at the house trying to break them up and force her out." She said with a sneer before smiling at the men and joining her father.

"Did she just say; governess' daughter?" D'Artagnan asked as they watched Anna return to the inn, likely to change into something more battle appropriate.

"The plot thickens."

_______________________________________________________________________________

The barricade was slowly filling with villagers as they emptied the last of their furniture from their homes before arming themselves with their weapon of choice from the crates in the centre of the square.

Athos watched with a smile as the pistols were expertly packed and the residents of the usually sleepy town, took up arms to protect their livelihood.

"You know what really hurts, Athos?" The Musketeer turned as Catherine claimed the empty spot beside him and began packing her pistol. "You never once tried to find out that happened to me."

"I suppose I thought you'd left town." He mused, his own hands working unconsciously to ready his shots. "Married, perhaps."

"My father's debt, no land, no dowry and the taint of being passed over twice...eligible men suddenly me less than desirable."

"They were wrong." He stopped checking his weaponry to look her dead in the eyes, hoping that he could convey some sincerity; after all, she was his childhood friend. "Perhaps when I sign the land over..." He stopped a small smile on his lips as he spoke. "...I forgot; I haven't told you of my plans." He opened his mouth once more to begin to explain his hopes for this town but was quickly interrupted by a shot firing and the screams of a man.

"To your stations!" Treville's shout echoed through the village as women ruched to the wounded villager but couldn't reach as he lay slumped atop the barricade.

"What happened?" In a flash, Anna was at his side; clad in the Musketeer uniform she had ridden here in and pistols hanging from her waist.

"They're here." He knew that was all he had to say and in and instant she was up on a crate, her pistols already firing as men clad in the Baron's favoured red uniforms appeared in the undergrowth.

"Athos..." Catherine began as the blonde jumped back to the ground and Athos took her place as she readied more shots. "...do you really mean that?"

"Keep your head down!" Anna shouted to her, watching in horror as the woman almost had her head blown off.

"Athos!"

"Catherine." Anna grabbed the woman's hand and Athos knew this was going one of two ways. "You came here to help us; if you have no intention of doing that and instead plan to distract us all by getting your pretty little head shot at, leave." The female Musketeer's voice was low and full of warning as she spoke to the noble woman. "Otherwise, ready your pistol and shoot the dammed thing!"

"Hold!" Treville's order was clear as shots rang out from the forestry; the Baron's men hiding themselves well as they simply shot at the barricade and hoped for casualties. "I said hold!" He shouted as the gung-ho villagers readied their pistols and aimed again. "You can't shoot what you can't see! You're just wasting ammunition!" He told them and the pistols lowered. "He's trying to see how many guns we have."

"I'm going to get Albert." Anna turned to Athos, the decision clear in her mind and she gestured to the fallen man atop the barricade. Taking a step back she called to her brother's in arms and shouted to the trained Musketeers. "Cover me!"

"Always."

The pair shared a tense smile before the blonde took off, slowly climbing the rear of the barricade and keeping an eye out for any of the Baron's men as she passed gaps in the structure.

"Ready?" She called behind her as her head neared the top of the wooden structure. She took a deep breath before hauling herself up and onto the top of it as gun shots rang out around her Wobbling slightly, she made her way to Albert and with one quick heave, the man, who judging by his shallow breaths was still alive, was falling into the arms of the villagers below.

"Anna!" She turned as her name was called and the absolute fear in Athos' eyes told her one thing; they were out of shots and had no time to reload.

It happened in the fraction of a second and suddenly, she was facing the hidden men, her eyes scouring the tree line as a single shot rang out. She took one more breath before allowing her weight to take her as she fell from her crouch and hoped to God that someone was there to catch her.

There was.

And a whoosh of air later she was letting out a grateful laugh as Porthos' strong arms cradled under her as she lay in them, her legs dangling over one side as he supported her back in a traditional bridal hold.

"Why do you always fall in my section?" He asked, his tone light but his eyes full of concern as he carried her away from the barricade before placing her back on her feet.

"Gotta keep your reactions quick." She teased, patting his chest in thanks as she tucked her fallen hair behind her ears and groaned at the thought of Jeanne's hard work on the intricate hairstyle being ruined. "Did I get him?" She asked, nodding to the top of the structure she had been crouched atop.

"Course you did." He chuckled. "Almost gave Aramis a heart attack when he realised what you were up to, but you got him." He nodded to the inn where a group of villagers had carried the man to.

"Thanks, Porthos." She took his hand and squeezed it gently before turning and catching the eyes of Athos as he stared at her. "I'm fine." She knew her voice would carry to him, and one slow blink from the man let her know that he heard her. "I'm fine."

_______________________________________________________________________________

"Have you seen Anna?" Athos asked as he stuck his head inside the inn, hoping D'Artagnan would know of the woman's whereabouts.

"Up there." The boy nodded to the staircase with a smile and Athos took off, practically running up them now he had been relieved from his post at the barricade. Rounding at the top, he strode past a variety of empty rooms before footsteps told him exactly where he needed to be.

"Sometimes, I'm sure you have a death wi-" He cut himself off as he realised the woman stood in the room was not Anna but Catherine. "My apologies." He began, stepping backwards from the room. "I was looking for-"

"You must think me very foolish and vain." She interrupted, nodding to the necklace she held at her throat. "It was my mother's and I never thought I'd get the chance to wear it again." She told him, her fingers rubbing over the string of pearls that ended in an amber stone. "Would you?"

"Of course." He stepped back into the room and made his way to her, relieving her of the necklace ties and knotting them gently as she stared ahead into the blurry mirror before her.

"It's the one think I couldn't bear to let go." She smiled as he released its weight and it nestled against the skin of her chest. "I always dreamed I'd wear it on the day I became mistress of a noble house...the day I was restored to my proper position."

He smiled lightly at her, watching as she studied herself in the mirror. He made to move from the room once again, hoping to find Anna before the woman ran off to perform more gymnastics on the barricade.

"Do you ever wish you'd chosen me?" She asked, halting him in his escape. "Or at least not let Thomas throw me aside?"

He was silent as she waited for his answer, hoping the conviction in his eyes and the set of his jaw told her all she needed to know.

"Even after everything that happened...you'd still let him marry her?"

"He loved her." He told her again. "As much as it pains me to say...he loved her and would have married her with or without my blessing."

"Would he, Athos?" She asked, her voice filled with hatred and rejection. "Because the Thomas I knew, the one we grew up with, would never go against your word." She stared at him cruelly. "But perhaps if his role model hadn't welcomed a common whore into his bed and spent his days rolling around with her and letting her call herself the Comtesse...he would still be here."

"Anna never called herself the Comtesse." It was his turn to be furious now; he had let her say her piece for two days straight and could take it no more. "It was you who did that." He couldn't stand there and project her lies any longer. "My brother and I never loved you; that's the simple truth. You were nothing more than a girl who sometimes came to stay and my father only told of our betrothal when he called it off." He watched as the woman before him began to crumble under the truth of his words. "I don't know what fantasies you concocted, Catherine, but you were never going to be the mistress of that house as long as there was breath in my body."

"I never pegged you as cruel, Athos."

"And I never thought you to be a vicious liar." He stepped back allowing her to turn and face him and not his reflection. "You never cared about the people, Catherine, whether they lived here or served you at the house; you never cared."

"And you cared so much that you left them without so much as a goodbye." She laughed humourlessly. "At least you're doing the right thing now though; I'll look after them in your absence, and I'll learn from your mistake; my people won't be left without a ruler."

"Catherine, what are you talking about?" He was worried now. He knew Anna would be ecstatic when he told her of his plans but Catherine didn't seem to be understanding his intentions. "I'm signing the land-"

"D'Artagnan said you were looking for me?" Athos turned as his favourite blonde appeared in the doorway, her leather jerkin open after being looked over by the village women and deemed healthy enough to fight after her stunt.

"Yes." He turned back to Catherine, eyeing the woman carefully as she turned to admire her reflection once more, a smug smile firmly planted on her lips. "We need to talk about Pinon." He told her, moving to join her in the doorway.

"Don't worry, Antoinette, I'll be the Comtesse you never could be."

"What is she-" Athos cut the blonde off as he wrapped an arm around her own and pulled her away into a room as far from the red-head as possible. "Tell me you're not going to do what I think you're going to do, Athos."

"Don't worry." He cast his eyes back through the open door to the room where they could hear Catherine humming. "I'm not."

______________________________________________________________________________

The six Musketeers were gathered at the barricade discussing their next plan of action when two sets of hoofs caught their attention.

"What the-"

"Renard." Treville answered Porthos' un-asked question as he peered through a gap. "And his son." Anna sneered at the mention of the Baron's raping child. "He's waving a white flag." He told them dryly.

"You've got to be kidding." Anna snorted as she and Athos shared a look before climbing the barricade and perching on its top.

"I thought we might avoid any further unpleasantness." The Baron explained their presence as he pocketed blew his nose into the flimsy white handkerchief he had been waving.

"Go on."

"Since you seem so determined to renounce your God-given nobility, sign over your lands to Edmond in perpetuity and I'm willing to spare these poor folk." The Baron offered, his smile betraying the threat in his words.

"Take the offer or you all die!"

"My dear words may lack elegance..." Renard glared at his boy and Edmond silenced. "...but his sentiment holds true."

Anna and Athos exchanged a look and after a few distinctive facial expressions and a shrug or two, they faced the pair again.

"As enticing as that sounds..." Anna mused.

"...The land is no longer is mine." Athos told him with a smirk as Jeanne and Bertrand appeared between them, pistols very at home in their hands.

"The land belongs to us now!" Jeanne shouted, the villagers cheering as the news hit the Baron.

"To all of us!" Her father added with a grin.

"I have given the estate over to its people." Athos explained.

"So you see..." Anna sighed. "...there's nothing we could do even if we wanted to."

"And you're trespassing on our land!" Jeanne told him, her voice full of glee.

"You mean to give the land to them?" Catherine asked, her voice barely carrying to the top of the barricade as Anna and Athos glanced down to her.

"Of course." Athos voice was full of confusion at her shock. "To everyone...you included." Anna fought a smile as the pistol dropped from the red-heads hand and she stalked away, her face full of fury.

"You'd hand this rabble your birth-right to defy me?" Renard shouted but only Athos turned to face him, Anna's eyes still trained on the storming woman.

"I have made my choice and with the full backing of my household." Athos told him, his hand coming to rest on Anna's shoulder as she turned back to them.

"You let him do this?" The Baron asked her. "What would your father say if he knew how far you'd fallen, eh?" The hand on her shoulder tightened as Athos fought to hold her down as rage began to fill her. "You know, all you've got to do is climb down from that silly barricade and maybe I'll let Edmond have a go at you...might even make you his wife."

"Turn around Renard." Athos called out. "Turn around before you say something you'll regret."

"Daughter of the Comte de Poitiers turned common whore, yes, I'm sure he'd be so very pr-"

A gunshot cut him off and the Baron's eyes widened as they closed in on the pistol in her hand.

"That was a warning shot." She told him lowly as he noted the perfect circle now in the centre of his handkerchief. "A courtesy to my father's name...but I'm not Mademoiselle de Poitiers anymore; I'm a soldier and we shoot to kill."

_______________________________________________________________________________

"Remember your discipline!" Treville called out as the Baron and his son rode away, curses flowing from their lips as Anna jumped from the barricade, refusing to so much as glance at anyone. "Think like soldiers and you cannot lose!" He told the people as he and his Musketeers kept their eyes on the woman currently kicking a wagon wheel in frustration.

"I'm fine." She didn't turn as Athos' footfalls neared her. "Let's just get this over with." She snapped the barrel of her pistol into place before finally turning and locking eyes with the Musketeer. "Stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like I'm going to break." She shouldered past him and towards her place at the barricade. "I've handled much worse than the Baron and his high-brow beliefs."

"You're sure you're okay?" He asked, joining her at the barricade.

"I'm not Mademoiselle de Garouville, Athos; I don't run when someone says something I don't like." She offered him a tense smile as she lifted the pistol and peered through a gap in the structure. "I'm a Musketeer."

Silence fell over the village as the people held their positions behind the barricade. Anna's eyes were focused entirely on the view from her spot and felt her finger twitch as she prepared herself for the onslaught about to hit them.

And hit them it did.

The Baron's men lunged from the tree line, their pistols aimlessly firing at the village while Treville shouted for them to hold, hold, hold your positions. Her breathing slowed and within an instant she was heart and soul in this battle for Pinon, no jumped-up Baron was taking this from the people; her people.

"Fire!"

Her finger responded immediately to the command and she watched as man after man dropped from the well placed shots from Pinon.

"Reload!"

She handed her pistols back to the woman stood behind her and Athos and received two fresh one in return.

She needn't be told again and almost in sync, five shots rang out from vantage points across the barricade and she knew that each precise projectile would find its target; that's why they were called Musketeers after all.

They had only disposed of a fraction of the Baron's bloodthirsty men and as they neared the barricade she heard a rapier slid from its' holding and felt a smile twitch at her lips as the best swordsman in the regiment all but flew at them, his steel no match for their lack of skill.

"Retreat, men!" She fired one last shot as the Baron's men fled from the scene and watched, a sadistic smile on her face as another fell from her shot.

"Tend to the wounded and repair the barricade." Treville shouted to the people as they jumped into action, grabbing whatever they could find to plug the holes. "Load up the muskets and be ready to regroup...it's not over yet."

_______________________________________________________________________________

They had been fortunate; the Baron's men had dropped like flies and while some villagers sustained minor injuries; their numbers were strong...the same couldn't be said for the Baron.

Anna watched as Aramis and D'Artagnan ventured out into the field the men had crossed and began digging small holes, perfect for housing barrels of gunpowder.

"Have you seen this work?" She was with Aramis on this one; the plan seemed risky - there were too many things that could go wrong.

"I've never seen it not work." D'Artagnan told him and with a simple shrug, Aramis stamped down the dirt and the pair returned to the safety of the barricade.

"Explain to me one more time what that's going to do." She said as they approached her.

"We shoot at the mounds..." D'Artagnan pointed to the small pile soft dirt that signified the placement of the barrels. "...if the shot goes though the wood, the gunpowder ignites and-"

"Boom." Aramis offered.

"If." She stressed the word. "I'm trusting you here, D'Artagnan." She patted the boy on the shoulder. "That was the last of our gunpowder so if there's no..." She looked to Aramis. "...boom...then we're in trouble."

"Don't panic." Aramis slung an arm across her shoulders. "D'Artagnan's chock full of battle experience and...oh wait..."

"Hilarious, Aramis." She elbowed him in the side as he laughed. "Hilarious."

______________________________________________________________________________

They came bursting from the tree line again and Anna had to give it to the baron's men for their dedication. At last count they were going to be burying a significant number but they carried on, charging at the barricade.

But not a shot was fired at Pinon and Anna watched as confusion began to mar their features, their legs slowly slightly as they realised there was no fight. She head Treville give the order to D'Artagnan and, chewing on her lip nervously, she watched as shots rang out from the men.

She released a breath she didn't realise she'd been holding when the plan went off without a hitch; the barrels igniting and, as Aramis had aptly put it; BOOM.

Those left standing were disoriented for a moment giving the Musketeers enough time to leap over the barricade and meet them, steel at the ready, in the field.

They were cut down effortlessly; the Musketeer blades slicing through their pitiful armour as though it were butter on a hot night and Anna knew that the villagers peering out would heave sighs of relief as the six whirled their way around the men; striking every weak spot until none were left standing.

Silence fell again as they regained their breaths, the ground littered with the Baron's men either badly burnt or bleeding. They shared tense smiles as they calmed themselves; adrenaline still pumping through their veins and spurring them on.

"Athos!" They'd all heard him approaching but none paid Edmond any attention as he stalked towards them; an unmarked breastplate shining proudly in the sun as his hands gripped the hilt of both his blade and the dagger in his left hand.

The Musketeer met him willingly and the five remaining Musketeers stood back as the boy lunged and darted, hoping to confuse the experienced Musketeer. It seemed effortless; the way Athos lifted his rapier and parried with the man-child, his complicated twists knocking the dagger from his hands easily before stepping back, observing that they were now equally armed.

The fight that ensued was quick and Edmond was on the floor in less than a minute; the boy having stumbled his way through the attack. Athos stepped back as they boy rolled before clambering to his feet.

"Come on!" Athos urged as the boy collected his dagger rom the ground and resumed his fighting stance.

The clash of steel against steel was the only noise and Anna looked away from the fight for only a second; her eyes connecting with the Baron's as he watched his son with pitying eyes. Sending the old man a slow smirk, she returned her attention to the men only to find Edmond pinned to the floor, his blades nowhere in sight as Athos' rested against his neck.

"Go on then." His breathing was laboured as he felt the cool sting against his throat. "What are you waiting for?"

"Don't tempt me." The Musketeer warned, his blade still at his throat as tried to decide on his next action; should he kill the lad or not?

He was a Musketeer; weren't in the habit of killing greedy nobles and yet...as he watched the boy squirm all he could hear were reasons to kill him; tried to rape Jeanne, would kill for a plot of land...would teach the Baron a lesson.

"Drop your sword Athos." A new voice joined them and Anna's hand went straight for her pistol as Catherine strolled towards the former Comte, her own gun outstretched and aiming straight at him.

The Musketeer complied as he stared down the barrel of the smoking gun and flung his rapier to one side.

"I can live with your decision to bed her over wedding me." She nodded towards Anna who was currently itching for a reason to shoot the red-head. "But I can't breathe in a world where Thomas' murder still lives...if you won't do anything about it, I will."

"She's the King's mistress." He reminded her. "None of us can touch her."

"What will you give me for him?" She asked Edmond, the boy still lying on the floor.

"I...uh..."

"I thought you meant to give me my life back." She returned her attention to Athos as the boy glanced to his father. "That at least would have been some compensation...but you deceived me there too." Her jaw tightened and she nodded to the Baron's boy once more. "Perhaps he can give me what I deserve."

"Put the gun down..." Athos' eyes flickered over Catherine's shoulder as a pistol cocked. "...or I'll definitely give you what you deserve." He watched as Catherine's jaw tightened and she turned her head slightly to glare at Anna.

"Why is it always you who gets in my way?"

"I'm a Musketeer..." Anna reminded her. "...It's in the job description to stop mad women waving guns at my comrades."

"Musketeer." Catherine scoffed, turning so her pistol was aimed at the blonde. "You're nothing more than a common whore who likely gets passed around the barracks."

"What is it with you and that word?" Anna sighed. "Whore, whore, whore...it's all you've ever called me."

"I simply refuse to call you something you're not."

"You want my full title?" Anna asked laughing. "Fine." She smiled. "I am Antoinette Beauchamp, daughter of the Comte de Poitiers and rightful Comtesse to the estate, governess of the home of the Comte and Comtesse de la Fere and the first and only female Musketeer in France..." She watched as Catherine's smirk faded. "...now put the gun down before I show exactly what I've learnt since we last spoke."

The woman's pistol wavered and Anna slowly released a breath as it lowered to her side. She opened her mouth to speak but was cut off as a roar ripped through the air. She didn't even think as she turned and fired, the gunshot exploding from her pistol as she saw Edmond leap at Athos.

The men fell with a thud and Anna felt her mouth go dry as Athos rolled away, his white shirt stained red.

"No." She dropped the gun and was at his side in a second. "Dear God, no." She bunched the material in her hand and searched the smooth skin of his abdomen for any sign of the gunshot.

Her head whipped to one side as Edmond let out a cough; a trickle of blood falling from the corner of his mouth as the Baron ran from his horse, shouting his son's name as the boy took his last breath.

She let Aramis and Porthos pull their brother from her as they hauled him to his feet and quickly wiped away the lone tear that had escaped her eye as she caught the furious swish of a skirt disappear into the village and she knew that this was not the last time she would encounter the rage of Catherine de Garouville.

_______________________________________________________________________________

"I thought I'd killed you."

Athos let out a chuckle as he changed his shirt for the clean one Jeanne had brought to them.

"Stop laughing." She admonished him, looking up from the floor to glare at him. "I thought you were dead." She ran a hand through her hair before letting the sob that she had been holding since first laying eyes on that crimson blood stain, wrack her body. "I thought I'd be burying you in that damned tomb next to your brother."

He was at her side in an instant, his arms pulling her to him as they sat on the edge of a bed in a spare room in the inn. He let her sob into him and whispered words of comfort as he eyed the lock that was firmly in place on the door; glad that no one would find her so distraught.

"I thought you were dead." She repeated, her voice a whisper as she raised her head from his chest.

"But I'm not." He took her hands. "And that's all down to the person who taught you to shoot so well." She let out a laugh at his words. "It's them you should be truly grateful to."

"Thank you." She whispered, smiling up at him as he wiped away the tears from her cheeks.

"You had a natural talent." He shrugged.

"No." She shook her head. "For giving me a home and a family when I had none."

"I gave you a house." He corrected. "You made it a home."

_______________________________________________________________________________

They stayed in Pinon for one more night, helping to remove the barricade and rebuild the town. Anna smiled as she leant against the outside of the inn, watching as the villagers carried the last of their belongings into their homes and the Musketeers lead their horses towards them.

"You did it then." Anna turned her head as Jeanne joined her against the wood. "You became a Musketeer."

"First and only." Anna told her proudly, wishing she had her pauldron to show her.

"I knew you would." Jeanne grinned. "Everyone thought you were mad; they were convinced you'd get to Paris and he'd finally marry you." She nodded behind her to the inn where Athos and Bertrand were currently sat. "But I knew you'd do it...I told them all that marriage and babies would happen once you'd saved France a couple dozen times...I told them it's were destined to do."

Anna smiled softly at the girl before pulling her into a tight hug.

"I have missed you, you know." She told her, arm still around her shoulder. "I've a friend in Paris, her name's Constance...she reminds me a lot of you; strong willed, opinionated-"

"All things they've learnt from you no doubt." She huffed at Athos' words as the Musketeer appeared in the doorway with Bertrand.

"My Lord, are you certain about this?" Bertrand asked as Anna released Jeanne and the two Musketeers made their way to their waiting comrades. "I'm just a simple innkeeper."

"Call me My Lord one more time and I shall burn this letter to ashes." Athos threatened as he held out a slip of white paper, sealed with ruby wax. "This..." He held out a ring marked with his family's crest. "...gives you power to act with the authority of the Comte de la Fere." He told him, placing the both it and the letter in the innkeeper's hand. "You are Mayor of Pinon now." Bertrand looked down at the items in disbelief. "The judiciary in Rouen will protect you should the Baron make any more trouble; they will not dismiss the seal of the Comte de la Fere."

"The former Comte." Bertrand corrected and Anna let out a laugh as she climbed into her saddle. "I don't know what to say to you."

"Let's keep it that way." Athos' voice was firm as he turned from the man and also climbed onto his saddle. "We shall not be back here again."

"Good Luck." Anna called to the father and daughter as they nudged their horses onwards and past them. "I spent years trying to get them to not call me My Lady and you do it with one piece of paper." She sighed. "The power of nobility astounds." She teased before pushing her horse forward, away from the group of men and towards a small group of children that were waiting for her.

"I owe you all a debt of thanks." Athos said to the line of Musketeers as the rode slowly through the town. "I was wrong...and you made me see it."

"I don't think you change of mind was because of us." D'Artagnan smiled as

"Who then?" Athos' question was answered as they stopped, and D'Artagnan nodded towards Anna as the woman reached down from her saddle to embrace a few women.

"Your wife."

"You're not letting that go are you?" Athos sighed and the three men to his left sniggered.

"Letting what go?" Anna asked as she moved her horse back into line with them.

"D'Artagnan was just reminding us that it was his quick thinking that saved the day." Porthos lied smoothly before spurring his horse onwards and leading the Musketeers away from the village, the people waving and clapping behind them as their horses disappeared from view.

"It's a beautiful day!" Aramis exclaimed as Pinon became nothing but a dot behind them. "We really should come to the country more often."

"You'd get bored." Porthos sighed, too familiar with Aramis' short attention span.

"I would not!"