Notre Dame was deathly silent as they approached the coffin sitting at the end of the aisle.
The Queen was at the front, the people standing to the side bowing as she passed. Aramis and Porthos walked slightly in front of her and Athos and D'Artagnan behind her. Ellie walked next to Constance and Brujon. Ellie had her little finger entwined with her husband's as they walked – a subtle sign of affection but one that was much needed.
Ellie and Constance were both wearing mourning dresses. Ellie, despite the Queen's offer, had decided not to carry the coffin out the cathedral, wanting to hide in the back instead.
Treville's funeral had been arranged quickly and efficiently. So much so that it hurt.
The Queen walked around Treville's coffin, standing at the foot of it as the musketeers stood at either corner.
Ellie couldn't quite get her head around the fact that Treville was dead. That he wasn't going to come back and that it was it.
Brujon silently grabbed her hand as the coffin was lifted up, the procession beginning to make its way out of Notre Dame.
Ellie glanced around the street as they walked out, suddenly aware of just how lucky she was to be alive.
"Are you going to tell him?" Ellie asked quietly as she stood next to Sylvie.
They'd all moved into the tavern after the funeral. It was a sombre atmosphere with no one making much effort to talk and everyone drinking away their worries.
Ellie felt as if she was intruding when she'd sat next to D'Artagnan and Porthos and had escaped over to Sylvie.
Athos was sitting by himself, not touching a single drop of wine.
Sylvie shook her head. "No, now's not the right time."
Ellie nodded, pulling her shawl tighter around her. "I understand."
"How do you feel about…everything?" Sylvie asked, looking at her.
"I almost died. Treville is dead. Louis is dead. Grimaud is still out there." Ellie sighed. "I tried to save Treville and failed. But I'm still alive."
Sylvie smiled sadly, squeezing Ellie's hand. "It isn't your fault, Ellie."
"Then why do I feel as if it is?" Ellie asked softly, looking up at Sylvie.
"We're out of wine," Brujon said, appearing at Ellie's shoulder. Ellie looked at him, glancing down at the jug.
"Alright, I'll tell Constance," Ellie said, sighing quietly. She weaved her way through the tables and tapped Constance on the shoulder. "We're almost dry."
"Oh," Constance sighed, glancing down at the empty jug.
"I keep expecting him to walk through those doors," Aramis said suddenly. "Barking orders."
Constance smiled. "He had a temper."
"You knew where you were with him," Porthos added, staring at the wall.
Constance sighed. "We'll fetch some more wine from the garrison," she said, noticing everyone was beginning to run out.
"I'll come," Ellie said quietly, pulling her shawl tighter around her.
Porthos reached out and grabbed Ellie's wrist, turning her to face him. "Ellie, you know you didn't kill him."
Ellie sniffed, swallowing against the lump in her throat. She turned her hand, so it was holding Porthos'.
"Then why do I feel like I did?" She asked quietly.
She pulled away from him and joined Brujon as he walked to the door, silently grabbing her husband's hand as she walked out the door.
D'Artagnan sighed as he watched Ellie leave. "She didn't kill him."
"She's grieving," Aramis replied. "She needs someone to blame."
"Which is why she's blaming herself," Porthos finished.
D'Artagnan looked behind him at where Athos was sitting. "He hasn't touched a drop."
Porthos suddenly banged on the table and stood up, looking around the room. "Treville gave his life for the country he loved. He was a father to all of us. We will never forget his bravery…or his sacrifice."
D'Artagnan reached up and squeezed Porthos' hand as he stood up, trying to hold back the tears. Porthos put a hand on his shoulder as D'Artagnan struggled to get his words out. "He won out against the cowards who shot him down. But we few here owe him much more. We owe him everything we are."
The tavern yelled in agreement, a few banging on the tables.
D'Artagnan sniffed. "He didn't care if you came from a farm, he didn't care if you came from the streets. All he saw was the man that you could become, the soldier!" D'Artagnan sighed shakily. "He gave us a home. He gave us a family."
Seeing that D'Artagnan was struggling to go on, Aramis stood up. "We were all young cadets once, arriving at the garrison full of self – doubt, but it was Treville who always believed in us. And it was that belief that made us into…Musketeers."
D'Artagnan, Porthos and Aramis picked up their cups of wine and held them high.
"Treville!"
Something suddenly smashed through the window, landing on the floor with a thud.
Porthos' eyes widened in horror as he saw the bomb, the fuse almost gone.
"Get down!" He yelled, pushing the table he was sitting behind over and pulling D'Artagnan and Aramis down behind it as it exploded.
Ellie looked up as an explosion echoed out through the streets. She frowned as Brujon unlocked the wine cellar door, trying to work out what it was.
"What was that?" She asked as Constance also looked up.
Constance stared at Ellie, both trying to ignore the worry in their stomachs. "I don't know," Constance said slowly.
Another explosion suddenly echoed out, this time from right above them. It shook the entire building, anything on the shelves falling off and smashing to the ground. Another explosion set off and another and another.
Brujon grabbed Ellie and Constance as the ceiling began to collapse around them, fire beginning to spread around. He pulled them under the cellar doors as another explosion occurred, this one mere feet away.
Ellie felt something hit her from behind and found herself falling into nothing.
Porthos swung open the tavern doors, both pistols raised. D'Artagnan and Athos followed him out, scanning the street outside as they searched for whoever threw the bomb.
"Grimaud?" Aramis asked, his voice hoarse from the smoke. "Marcheaux?"
"We end this, now," Porthos growled.
Another explosion shot up into the sky, the fire and smoke curling upwards. All four of them turned to look at it in horror.
"The garrison," Aramis stated, staring at it.
D'Artagnan's eyes widened. "Ellie and Constance," he said, hitting Aramis in panic.
The four of them began running down towards the garrison, dodging the terrified people fleeing from the explosion.
As they turned into the entrance, the horses broke free, charging towards them and they threw themselves against the wall, out of the way.
They came to a halt and stared as the staircase of the garrison, completely on fire, collapsed, burning wood falling down.
"Constance!" D'Artagnan yelled as he looked around, dodging the fires and burning wood. "Ellie!"
The doorway to the wine cellar exploded and D'Artagnan fell onto the ground from the force of it. He began stumbling his way towards the door but Porthos grabbed him, holding him back.
"D'Artagnan!"
"She's in there," D'Artagnan sobbed, trying to fight Porthos. "They're in there!"
D'Artagnan slumped against Porthos, tricking the man into thinking he'd stopped fighting. The moment Porthos' grip slackened, D'Artagnan shoved him off and ran inside the building, dodging the fire out the front.
"Stop him!" Athos yelled, joining Porthos as they tried to catch up with their friend.
Another, even larger explosion threw them back onto the ground, splinters of wood flying everywhere.
Porthos scrambled to his feet but Athos grabbed hold of him, holding him back.
"There's nothing in there!" Athos said, holding Porthos back as he cried. "They're gone!"
"Over here!" Aramis yelled, pushing back a pile of wood. "Athos, get over here there's still some alive!"
Athos ran over and helped Aramis and Porthos lift a large piece of timber of two cadets who'd been tied together. Aramis dragged the two out from the fire and over to the wall, away from the fire, as it kept spreading, kneeling down in front of them and tending to their injuries.
"Sylvie!" Aramis yelled as the woman suddenly appeared, a few friends with her. "Help me with these two."
Sylvie handed a bucket to her friend, trying not to be horrified by the burning garrison before her, and knelt down next to Aramis.
Athos ran over to where the stairs used to be, carefully clambering over the broken wood. He spotted a cadet under the word and quickly worked his way over to him. "Clairmont."
Half of Clairmont's had been severely burnt and he was pinned under numerous piles of wood and rubble.
"I'm sorry," Clairmont groaned as Athos knelt down in front of him. "We were overwhelmed."
Athos sighed, looking at the boy sadly. "You are not to blame."
As carefully as he could, Athos lifted the boy up and carried him over to Aramis.
"Who's that?" Aramis asked as he spotted Athos running towards him.
"Clairmont."
Athos gently set Clairmont down against the wall, stepping back as Porthos began untying the boys doublet, reassuring him.
Athos looked around, panting. "This can't be all," he said quietly, looking at the four injured cadets they'd found.
Aramis shook his head. "No one else could have survived."
There was a loud thud and Athos turned to look. A pile of wood was kicked outward and D'Artagnan emerged from inside the garrison. Porthos stood up as D'Artagnan walked towards them carrying Constance in his arms.
"Brujon and Ellie are still down there!" D'Artagnan exclaimed as Porthos ran towards him. "They're still down there!"
Athos jumped to his feet and ran after Porthos into the wine cellar.
"Brujon!" Porthos yelled, stepping over piles of rubble, wood and ceiling. "Ellie?"
"We're here!" Brujon yelled, coughing as he pushed some debris out the way of the door.
Athos and Porthos climbed over to them, squeezing their way through the gap.
"Come on," Porthos said, grabbing Brujon's arm and pulling him out from underneath he rubble. "That's it, up you get."
Athos squeezed past them, climbing over more beams as he reached Ellie. He lifted a few more beams and bricks out of the way and crouched down next to her, carefully removing the rubble and wood lying on top of her.
She was unconscious, her face turned away from him, and Athos couldn't tell if she was breathing or not.
He gently turned her face towards him. "Ellie?"
Ellie remained deathly still.
Athos carefully lifted her up into his arms, weaving his way through the rubble as he carried her out the building. He quickly walked over to where Aramis and D'Artagnan were checking on Constance.
He carefully laid Ellie down against the wall, crouching down and checking to see if she was breathing.
"Aramis!" Athos yelled as Ellie still didn't move, her chest remaining still.
Aramis quickly made his way over to them, gently lifting Ellie's head up as he checked for a pulse, pressing a hand to her neck.
"Ellie, come on," he muttered, moving her so that she was leaning against his chest. "Come on, please. Please, don't do this."
D'Artagnan and Porthos had noticed Ellie's lack of response, both watching in concern as Ellie laid against Aramis, lifeless.
Ellie's head lolled to the side as Aramis removed his hand, slowly looking up to meet the eyes of his brothers.
Athos' heart plummeted as he took in Aramis' solemn expression. He looked down at Ellie's soot covered face, her closed eyes, and his shoulders slumped.
"No," D'Artagnan whispered, falling back against Constance as he stared at Ellie.
Porthos reached out and put a hand on Brujon's shoulder as he caught the boy staring at his wife in horror, unable to move from where he was on the floor.
Aramis lowered his head, still holding onto Ellie's limp body as she laid in his lap, still and pale. He placed his hand over hers, moving it so that it was resting on her stomach.
Ellie's hand twitched slightly underneath Aramis' as he let go. Aramis looked down at her, moving his hand to her neck again as he checked for a pulse.
"Ellie?" Aramis whispered, putting a hand to her cheek as her eyes fluttered and he felt a pulse at her neck.
Ellie coughed suddenly, lurching forward as she tried to fight off Aramis, not sure of where she was. She tried to move but found she couldn't as Aramis held her back.
"Ellie, Ellie, it's me, it's me," Aramis said, holding her against him so she didn't hurt herself. "Shush, Ellie, it's just me, you're safe, it's me."
Ellie slumped back against Aramis, exhausted, her eyes drooping. Aramis accepted the water from D'Artagnan and gently pressed it to Ellie's lips, lifting her up so she could take a sip of it. Ellie gulped it down, breathing heavily as she struggled to stay awake.
"You're alright," he whispered, setting the water aside as Ellie slumped back against again, unable to hold herself up. Aramis exhaled softly, resting his chin on Ellie's head as she tried to figure out where she was.
Another explosion rocked the yard and Ellie flinched against Aramis, turning her head to face his chest, as he shielded her from it.
Athos looked over at Aramis and sighed, staring at Ellie as she coughed again, wincing in pain as she tried not to pass out in Aramis' arms.
Ellie looked up at the burning garrison as the roof collapsed, the sound of burning wood falling in on itself echoing out around the night.
The dawn of the next day showed just how bad things were.
The garrison was burnt out, piles of dead wood and rubble littering the courtyard. The roof at one end had all but collapsed and there was no way of getting inside any of the upstairs part of the garrison.
"We've recovered two wagons," D'Artagnan said, walking up to Athos.
"Some more horses," Sylvie added.
"We have no medical supplies left," Aramis said, sighing heavily.
Athos turned to look at D'Artagnan. "Weapons?"
"No, the armoury was completely destroyed," D'Artagnan replied, shaking his head.
"Listen," Porthos said as he walked up to them, "they must have taken some our gunpowder. The garrison would've gone up twice as fast if it had all been there."
Athos sighed. "We'll take the wounded to Christoph's tavern."
"We're leaving the garrison?" Brujon asked.
"It's not the garrison anymore, Brujon," Ellie replied tiredly, leaning against him. "It's just a shell."
Athos looked at Brujon and Ellie. "This was our home. A place where people came for justice, sanctuary, but it was only ever that – a place. This is not the garrison. Wherever we draw breath, make a stand, save a life, that is the garrison. We are the garrison."
"I don't think I've ever heard you be so philosophical before, Athos," Ellie said quietly, a hint of a smirk on her face.
Athos shook his head at her, putting an arm around her shoulders as she moved to lean on him.
"We have blankets," Sylvie said. "A little food. We'll take it all to the tavern."
"There's some stuff at my house too," Ellie added. "I can go get it."
"I'll come with you," D'Artagnan said, nodding.
Ellie turned, pressing a kiss to Brujon's cheek. "I'll be alright," she said, squeezing his hand.
"Let's get the wagons ready," Constance said, grabbing Brujon's arm and pulling him away, giving Ellie a reassuring nod.
"I'll go to the palace for provisions," Aramis said, turning and heading out the garrison.
Athos and Porthos shared a glance as they surveyed the ruined building around them.
Ellie hadn't been inside her house for a while. She'd been trusting the cadets who'd been there to look after it and keep it tidy.
"Are you alright?" D'Artagnan asked quietly as Ellie unlocked the front door and stepped inside.
"I'm still breathing," she replied. "If that's what you meant."
D'Artagnan grabbed Ellie's wrist, turning her to face him. "You weren't last night. I thought you were dead, Ellie."
Ellie sighed quietly, looking up at D'Artagnan. She could see the fear and concern in his eyes – she'd seen it in all of them last night as she lay in Aramis' arms, trying not to pass out.
"I'm fine, D'Artagnan." She grabbed his hand and placed it over her chest. "See, it's still going."
D'Artagnan smiled softly, pulling Ellie towards him in a hug. Ellie sighed, resting her head against his chest for a moment.
"Come on," she said, pulling away. "Let's find some stuff."
Ellie took advantage of being back at her house to change out of her dress and into the spare uniform she had lying around made out of D'Artagnan's old doublet and one of Brujon's shirts.
As soon as she arrived at the tavern, Ellie made a beeline over to where Clairmont was lying.
"Hey," she said, gently grabbing his hand.
"Hey," Clairmont whispered, shaking with pain.
Ellie quietly shushed him, stroking his hair as he gripped her hand tightly. "You're alright, Clairmont."
Clairmont winced and groaned. "Ellie, I know when you're lying." He opened his eyes again and stared at her. "How bad?"
Ellie exhaled slowly as her eyes began burning. She wiped away a tear and looked down at Clairmont. "Well, the ladies will be fawning all over you," she replied, chuckling tearfully.
"They did anyway," Clairmont replied, trying to smile.
Ellie sniffed, wiping away another tear. "You'll be flirting at them in no time."
Clairmont sighed quietly, his eyes closing again. "I doubt it."
Ellie turned away, letting go of his hand. She leant against the table, looking up at the ceiling as she struggled not to breakdown in the middle of the tavern.
Porthos walked over and put a gentle hand on Ellie's shoulder, standing next to her. She turned to face him and buried her face in his chest, hugging him tightly as she struggled to keep her composure.
"It's alright, Ellie," Porthos whispered, stroking her hair. "Come on, I need you. If you start crying, then I'll go and then where will we be?"
Ellie laughed quietly, stepping back and wiping her face, sweeping her hair back. "I'm alright," she said quietly, nodding.
"Are you trying to convince yourself or me?" Porthos asked, his eyebrows furrowing in worry as Ellie sighed heavily.
"Both," Ellie admitted sadly. She exhaled loudly, putting her hands on her hips as she looked away for a moment. "Alright," she said, turning back and looking at Porthos. "I'm good."
Porthos nodded and walked over to where Athos, D'Artagnan and Aramis were all standing. Ellie slipped in between Aramis and D'Artagnan, grateful that they all ignored her red eyes and blotchy face.
"What's happening?" She asked, looking at them.
"Grimaud's got Sylvie and the rest of the refugees. If we don't go to him, he's going to kill her first and then everyone else," Aramis said.
"Luckily, he thinks you two are dead," Porthos finished. "So, you two, take out as many as you can but keep it quiet. All the time they think you're dead, we've got the upper hand and we'll keep their eyes on us."
"Aramis," Constance called from where she was standing next to Clairmont.
Ellie turned to look at her and quickly made her way back over to Clairmont, standing next to Brujon as Aramis followed her.
"Hi, again," Ellie whispered, stroking Clairmont's hair as he trembled in pain and breathed heavily.
"Hello," Clairmont mumbled. "I'm not sure how your husband feels about this flirting, Lizzie."
Ellie smiled, feeling the tears beginning to burn her eyes again. "Nah, he's fine with it."
Aramis nudged Ellie with his elbow. "This isn't going to be pretty."
"I'm not leaving him," Ellie replied firmly, gripping Clairmont's hand tightly.
Aramis nodded, cleaning his hands with a fresh rag. "Alright, then."
Ellie stood there and held onto Clairmont's hand as he screamed in pain as Aramis tried to get the rest of the shrapnel out of his wound. She looked up at the ceiling, not wanting Clairmont to see her tears as she struggled to contain herself.
Aramis wrapped a fresh bandage around Clairmont's leg and stepped back, sighing. "Stay with him."
Ellie recognised the tone in his voice and felt her heart shatter. She crouched down next to Clairmont, still holding his hand. "You better not die until I get back," she whispered, kissing his cheek gently.
"Is that a threat?" Clairmont asked, panting.
"Only if you don't die," Ellie replied. She kissed his cheek on more time and stood up. She looked at Brujon and Constance, pressing her lips together. "Look after him for me," she said quietly. "If…you know…" she sighed. "Just, please."
Brujon grabbed his wife's hand and squeezed it tightly. "Go do your job, Ellie," he said quietly. "I promise."
Ellie nodded, inhaling deeply. She turned around and walked over to Athos and D'Artagnan, picking up a pistol.
"If Marcheaux's there," Ellie said darkly, putting the pistols onto her weapons belt, "he's mine."
D'Artagnan and Athos nodded, not wanting to mess with her.
"Understood," D'Artagnan replied.
Ellie turned around and marched out of the tavern, allowing herself one glance back at Clairmont before she turned on her musketeer head. She sighed, hand covering her sword handle.
"I'm done playing by the rules," she said to D'Artagnan as they split off from the rest of the group. "We're doing this my way."