AN/ We're nearly there! There's just the epilogue left to go, which I hope you'll hang around for, but for now, there's this.
Disclaimer: I do not own the BBC's The Musketeers.
Chapter Twenty One
One Year Later
Spring was starting to make its presence known as the convoy reached the final leg of their journey. The war had lasted just under three years, and had been hard fought, and hard won, but France had finally earned its victory and now the Musketeers were on their way home.
For some of the men, they hadn't been home since they set foot out of the garrison almost three years ago. Athos counted himself lucky that he'd had the chance to visit home during the war, even if for so short a time. He was even more grateful for Constance having discovered his attempts to run away during the night, too.
Wounds heal with time. They leave scars, sometimes they leave residual pain, but they eventually close, become easier to forget, and, later, easier to remember without it hurting quite so much. The grief and guilt Athos had felt over losing d'Artagnan, over leaving him behind, had taken a long time to heal, but as the war moved forward, as the letters from his friend continued to reach him from Paris, and as he began to realise that not only was he a good soldier but a good captain, he finally learnt to let it go.
It wasn't completely gone, of course, but it was easier to forget, and one day, it would be easier to remember too. Forgiveness, after all, can be a long road, especially when it's yourself that you must forgive.
The musketeers walked into Paris atop their mounts with their blue cloaks rustling in the wind, and their heads held high.
The streets were lined with civilians cheering and throwing flowers, which had just started to bloom. Some of the younger recruits, who had joined at the eve of the war, or even after it had begun, found themselves much enjoying the attention. Many of the older soldiers were slightly less bowled over, or felt embarrassed, as did Athos. Of course, there were other older soldiers that were very much enjoying the attention, Aramis, unsurprisingly, being one.
When they reached the garrison, the space was quieter, and eerily empty. As the musketeers filed in, Athos issued orders for the horses to be properly tended, the equipment to be logged and stored, and then he sought out Serge.
"It'll be nice to have some more mouths to feed," Serge said with a half-toothless smile.
"It's good to be back," Athos said. "I need you to arrange the rooms in the barracks. We've obviously lost some men, and gained some that might not have lodgings…"
"I've been keeping track," Serge said. "I'll make sure there's somewhere for everyone."
"Many thanks," Athos said. "I must report to the palace, but I'll be back this evening."
As he headed towards the courtyard, he paused and looked back.
"I thought I'd see d'Artagnan when we arrived back?" Athos asked.
"You'll see him at the palace," Serge said, grinning widely. "He's been looking forward to your return for days now."
Athos nodded and strode off, issued a few more orders, and then set off towards the palace. He wondered what d'Artagnan was now doing. He'd known that with the damage done to the leg, that his brother would never be able to return to soldiering, so maybe he had taken up some role at the palace since then, although he'd made no mention of it in his letters.
Shaking his head in thought, he briskly trotted towards the palace, and dismounted with relief upon arrival: he'd been travelling for so long all he could feel was the saddle beneath his thighs.
He straightened and then walked through the palace towards the throne room, where he had been directed. He arrived to find the King and Queen in their seats upon the stage. To their right, near the Queen, stood Constance, decked in pastel pink, and with the Dauphin stood beside her, his hand holding onto hers. Athos was surprised by the child's appearance, but then reminded himself that it had been nearly three years since he'd seen him.
To the left of the King, stood Treville, and beside him, d'Artagnan. D'Artagnan was dressed in his musketeer regalia, his blue cloak proudly on display, his sword attached to his belt, his hair tied at the nape of his neck, and a cane in his left hand, supporting him.
Athos' and d'Artagnan's eyes met, and the younger soldier smiled brightly at the sight of his returned mentor.
"Your majesty," Athos intoned, breaking his eyes from d'Artagnan and bowing before the royals. "I have the official surrender from the King of Spain."
He rose and then approached, passing the sealed scroll to the King. It was, in essence, a mere formality. But it felt somewhat like a true ending, to place the scroll into the king's hand.
"Thank you, Captain," replied the King. "You have served your country with honour and dignity throughout this long campaign."
"I did nothing but my duty, Sire."
"And you did your duty well," the King responded. "I'll leave you to finalise the report with Treville now, and we'll meet properly later this week."
"Yes, your majesty."
The room bowed, as the King and Queen rose, with Constance following, the Dauphin still holding her hand.
The room emptied for all but Athos, Treville, and d'Artagnan, and Athos turned towards them to see d'Artagnan limping across to him, before enveloping him in a large hug.
"It is good to see you brother," d'Artagnan said happily.
"And you," Athos replied, embracing his brother. He was relieved to feel the muscle clinging to his friend's body once more.
He finally, reluctantly, released d'Artagnan and moved to shake Treville's hand.
"It is good to have you home, Athos," Treville said happily. "Shall we meet in my office?"
Athos nodded, and the three men walked the corridors, their pace wordlessly slowed a little to compensate for d'Artagnan's limp.
"You look well, d'Artagnan," Athos finally said.
"I've had a lot of time to recover," d'Artagnan said. "Oh, before I get in trouble for forgetting, you, Aramis, and Porthos are all invited to dinner tonight. Constance's orders."
"Then we'd better turn up," Athos said, a smirk detectable on his lips. "Hold on, where? Not at the garrison?"
There was a slight pause in d'Artagnan's gait.
"Um… We've moved from the garrison," d'Artagnan finally explained. "We needed more room with Charlie getting so big, and we found somewhere nearer the palace that was more convenient for both of us. Besides, I'm not an active soldier anymore. I can't keep my room in the barracks forever."
"We would never have kicked you out d'Artagnan," Athos chastised.
"I know," d'Artagnan said. "Please don't take it personally. It really was too small a space for a roaming one year old and another on the way."
"He's one?!" Athos asked. "Wait, hold on! Constance is expecting again?"
D'Artagnan didn't try to hide his grin. Treville let out a snort at Athos' incredulity.
Athos glanced at his former Captain, who simply smiled back at him.
When they reached Treville's office, they all filed in, and it took Athos a moment to realise that d'Artagnan was joining them. He looked between the two men in silent question.
"D'Artagnan was promoted to my deputy about six months ago," Treville said. "The idea was that he would gain the necessary political experience and provide his knowledge and input on the war at hand at the same time. Hence why he's sitting in this meeting."
"And now the war is over?" Athos asked, secretly pleased that Treville had taken d'Artagnan under his wing.
"I'm to shift from Minister for War to Minister of Defence," Treville said. "D'Artagnan is to remain my deputy, but more formally take on the role of Captain of Civil Defence."
D'Artagnan looked away a little shyly.
"He's concerned that he skipped Lieutenant, but I feel he's up for the job," Treville added. "And the King agrees."
"And what does the job actually entail?" Athos asked, looking at d'Artagnan, who had sat down near the window, and was tapping his good leg repetitively with his fingers.
"Treville's disbanding the red guard," d'Artagnan said. "He's putting me in charge of a new guard… we're starting from scratch."
"Only way to get rid of the decay, is to cut it all out and start again," Treville explained.
"Have you started already?" Athos asked.
D'Artagnan shook his head.
"The plan is that recruits for both the guard and the musketeers will train together, and then you and I will choose from there," d'Artagnan said. "We want to build a more cohesive unit between musketeer's and guard, and create a relationship we can trust."
"And I thought how better to do it, then have you two, as close friends, take the helm," Treville added. "Now shall we put this war to rest, at last?"
"Yes," Athos agreed, shaking his head slightly.
/\/\/\/\
That night, as the four brothers and Constance sat around a table filled with food and wine, Athos found a moment spare to lean across to d'Artagnan and grip him by the arm.
"I couldn't be prouder," he said quietly. "It will be an honour to work alongside you again."
D'Artagnan grinned broadly, lifted his glass, and they drank to the future.