Porthos had hobbled across the road to relieve himself. He stared into the dark woods wondering how many creatures were staring back at him. They had watched Athos disappear into the gloom of the evening before settling to wait for his return. Both Musketeers felt useless. Aramis was trying to hide how much pain he was in from his fight with Gallo and the brutish Spaniard in the cellar. Their assortment of injuries were starting to make themselves known. The scratches Porthos had received from the cat-like Elizabeth were stinging. He wondered if he would be left with more scars on his face after she had clawed at him.

A twig snapped a few yards away. Porthos looked towards the sound but could not make out what it was, a night-time animal going about its business oblivious to the Musketeers and their prisoner, Porthos suspected.

He turned back to the oak tree. The ancient tree, its branches spreading wide in all directions dominated the immediate area. The exposed roots testament to the age of the tree. Aramis was watching the road in the other direction, his injured leg stretched out in front of him, his gun resting in his lap. Aramis may have been injured but he was still ready to react to anything. Gerard was looking in the direction Porthos had heard the twigs snapping, the Baron had narrowed his eyes, squinting in an attempt to make something out. Porthos looked back in the same direction.

At the same time that Gerard started to shout through his gag, Elizabeth broke free of the undergrowth. The young woman had a determined expression on her face and a gun in her hand. She was aiming the small gun in the direction of the oak.

Porthos hobbled forward, wishing he could move quicker, but knowing to try to do so would probably cause him to stumble to the ground.

Aramis had twisted around, inadvertently knocking his injured ankle in the process, his friend had been about to raise his own gun but instead wilted slightly blinking hard trying to work thought the pain he had caused himself.

Elizabeth was closing in on her target. Gerard looked up at her, his expression going from one of relief to shock as he realised, she intended to shoot him.

'My brothers should have listened to me,' she said, her words dripping with venom, 'they're all dead because of you- '

'NO!'

D'Artagnan yelled as he ran towards the young woman. The Musketeer shot passed Porthos who was still trying to reach their prisoner. D'Artagnan grabbed Elizabeth, pulling her arm high and wide of its mark as she fired the gun. Gerard had pushed himself as low as he could get with his arms tied behind him to the root of the tree.

Elizabeth was struggling with d'Artagnan who was trying to move her away from the prisoner, she had dropped the gun and was trying to wriggle free of d'Artagnan's grasp using the same tactics she had with Porthos earlier in the day. She scratched at d'Artagnan and twisted to kick him. Porthos had nearly reached the pair when managed to kick d'Artagnan hard in the knee causing the Musketeer to yelp in pain, but he held fast trying to contain her flailing arms.

The constant movement had caused the pair to shift to the side of the road. Porthos could see what was going to happen, as he shouted out a warning d'Artagnan lost his footing, tipping them both off the road and into a shallow dip at the side of the road.

A sudden stillness descended. Porthos reached the edge of the road and looked down the couple of feet that d'Artagnan and Elizabeth had fallen. D'Artagnan was lying on his side staring at Elizabeth, his arm was caught underneath the young woman.

'Lizzy?'

D'Artagnan shifted slightly, wincing as he did so, the young woman did not move. Even as the Musketeer gently turned her head, Porthos could see Elizabeth was dead, a trickle of blood on her temple telling him all he needed to know. The rocks that littered the area had been her undoing.

D'Artagnan pulled the limp woman into his arms, he shook her a little before looking at her with disbelief.

'I didn't…' he looked up at Porthos. 'I didn't mean to kill her.'

'You didn't,' said Porthos, 'it was an accident. You couldn't have predicted how you would have fallen.'

D'Artagnan looked back at the woman in his arms for a few seconds before gently laying her back down. He remained where he was looking down at the body of the young woman.

MMMM

A little later…

Treville listened intently as Athos told him all that had gone on. He nodded occasionally but did not interrupt. The Captain glanced at his men who were sat around the sitting room in Baron Gerard's chateau, receiving attention from Barbotin in his guise of field medic.

Aramis was reclining on a chaise longue, cool cloths draped over his ankle. The bruises and grazes that covered most of his body leaving Aramis in even more discomfort. It had not been long before he had fallen into an uneasy sleep. Barbotin had quietly draped a blanket over the sleeping Musketeer before passing out the rest of the blankets he had brought into the room with him.

Porthos was sat in a cushioned chair near the hearth his feet resting on a footstool, his boots lying discarded on the floor next to him. Porthos' attention was solely on d'Artagnan.

As Treville listened to Athos report what had happened d'Artagnan stared at the fire. The young Musketeer had not reacted when Barbotin had cleaned up the scratches and grazes to his face and hands. Treville could understand d'Artagnan's reaction. He felt to blame for most of what had happened. He had been friends with the perpetrators of the events and been partly responsible for the death of one of them. The fact that he had been in a relationship with the woman that had died was obviously playing heavily on d'Artagnan's mind.

D'Artagnan had told them that Elizabeth and he had become close when he was friendly with the brothers. If they had not moved away after their farm had started to lose money, there was a chance d'Artagnan and Elizabeth would have married.

Now the young man was sat, slightly slumped in a chair a slightly vacant look on his face.

Treville knew he would have to talk to the young man and make him understand that he was not at fault for all that had gone on. They had succeeded, they had foiled the plot against the King. They were sure all the plotters were either caught or dead. Any of the Spanish vigilantes that might have escaped would have been hired help and not known the full details of what the plan had been.

Gerard and Marin were currently incarcerated in the cellar under guard.

When he had arrived on the scene with the rest of the Musketeer's he had been surprised to come across his men on the road a mile from the Baron's chateau. Athos had been busy restraining a young man to a tree on the opposite side of the road to Gerard, who was bound and gagged, tied to the roots of a giant oak tree. Porthos was sat with Aramis neither man looked at their best.

D'Artagnan had been sat at the edge of the road looking down, it had not been until Treville had reached the dishevelled looking group that he had seen the body of the young woman lying below them. They had told him a few minutes later that they had deliberately kept Marin away from d'Artagnan and the sight of his deceased sister in an attempt to keep the captured man calm.

As Athos finished his report Treville nodded his thanks before rising from the chair he had been sat in, he walked across to d'Artagnan and sat in the chair next to his Musketeer. D'Artagnan turned to look at him, he was about to speak but Treville held up his hand to stop him.

'You've spent a lot of time blaming yourself during this mission,' said Treville. 'You blamed yourself for losing a chunk of your memory after you were caught in that explosion and you are obviously blaming yourself for the death of that young woman.'

D'Artagnan looked away for a few seconds.

'And you are certainly not to blame for not guessing that your friends were behind this. From what you have said they have completely changed their beliefs since you knew them. People change, you could not have predicted that. And you are not to blame for their choices.'

It took the young Musketeer a few seconds, but he nodded.

Porthos leaned forward a little, 'you know that her death here has spared her time in the Chatelet, probably being interrogated and then her conviction and execution. You know that is the fate that waits for Marin and Gerard.'

D'Artagnan nodded again, 'I still can't believe how much they've changed. They seemed the same when I spoke to them in Paris. I was pleased they had built up a good trading business…' he paused for a couple of seconds. 'They asked me to join them… I'm glad I didn't.'

The End.

Author note: Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it.