A/N: I'm new to this whole thing, so, I think this is how you write a disclaimer -
I own no part of Alexandre Dumas' work or the Three Musketeers, and write this only for fan…..enjoyment (?)
Athos' eyes rested on the face of his assailant. His expression of disgust slowly turned into one of shock, horror and finally, anger. He was trembling with rage, his eyes wide. After what seemed like eternity, he tore his gaze away from Lady de Winter and spat at the Cardinal.
"Her?" Athos asked flabbergasted. "You….," he started. "You betrayed him….you betrayed ME?!"
Lady de Winter's face remained that cold, expressionless mask. She stepped towards the Musketeer, with only a break in her long steady sigh as a sign of emotional acknowledgement. Her face was now only a finger space apart from his, their eyes locked in combating unsaid words.
"You lied to me," Athos seethed, his voice now breaking, unable to control himself. "All these years, you were alive?" Athos was more than just visibly shaken.
Without another word, Lady de Winter stepped past Athos and vanished into the shadows of the longs dark tunnel. Athos found himself staring at the ground, his mind blank. The binds around his wrists were tightened and he distantly felt himself being dragged away.
TTM TTM TTM TTM TTM TTM TTM TTM TTM TTM TTM TTM TTM TTM TTM TTM TTM T
Athos found himself gaze into his lover's eyes as he plunged the dagger in his palm straight into her heart. She gasped, only momentarily, before she fell to her knees. Athos moved downwards with her, his hands supporting her as she collapsed. He looked into her eyes and said what he had so many years ago at the same spot, on that cliff over the sea. His soft brown eyes met Lady de Winter's clear blue ones.
He said, "Anne, " chocking back the tears and fighting the growing lump in his throat.
"I…love..you." His eyes looked not for forgiveness or sympathy, but for help, for strength. He shut his eyes and let the tears fall. His face was wet, his eyes red.
Comtesse de la Fere rested her forehead against his, her sift curly brown hair meeting Athos' brow.
"Oh my darling," she replied, touching Athos' face, "I am so sorry."
Her tears met his.
"Athos, I love you."
Their lips met only for a moment, but they were there. With that, Lady de Winter's limp form fell backwards over the drop and into the foaming sea.
Athos was left there, in the wet, lush grass, his clothes a helpless confusion of blue silk, brown mud and deep red blood, with a tingling sensation in his side. His weary eyes rested on the shining metal spike lodged in his abdomen. He smiled and pulled it out. The only inscription or mark on the maroon tinted metal was a single monogram, 'M'. He fell back onto the green and closed his eyes, his young haggard features graced by the rain which now descended from the sky of grey, washing away and into the soil of the free.