Blood on the ground,
Sun turning red.
Head over heels,
Over our heads.

Trouble will rise,
And tears will be shed.
Wherever we go,
Whatever comes next.

We'll always-
We'll always be-
One for all,
And all for one.

All For One – Five For Fighting

"I killed them."

Marsac looked up. It was the first thing she had said since leaving the palace. The trip back had been horrible. Though she hadn't showed it, he was sure she hadn't realised they were moving. It had continued when he brought her to the infirmary at the garrison, and led her to one of the cots. After bringing back a bowl of hot water and some clean towels, he saw she hadn't moved an inch. Even her eyes stood still – as though she didn't dare to blink.

Iris swallowed hardly and started breathing faster.

"I killed them," she repeated, starting to shake again. Marsac, who had been cleaning the blood of her hands, gently took her face in his hands and turned her to look at him.

"You cant think like that," he whispered pleadingly, not wanting her to disappear into herself again.

"But I did."

"If you hadn't, you would be dead."

"It felt so easy," she whispered, tears starting to fall from her eyes. She glanced down at her hands, and the bowl of warm water that had turned rosy.

"Iris," Marsac sighed. "Stop this."

"I killed them," she echoed again.

"Iris, stop!" he now scolded, giving her a little shake to get her attention. She stared into his eyes as more tears ran down her cheeks and onto his hands.

"Listen to me very closely; if you allow yourself to believe what you're saying, then you will never get past it. There is a fine line between killing because you have to and killing because you want to. As long as you stay on the right side, there is no reason to feel guilty for what you've done."

Exhaling deeply, he now started shaking his head.

"Training with us, and being out there... the difference is monumental. We never told you, because we never imagined you would experience it. And certainly not on this scale."

"I do feel guilty," she admitted, her voice breaking. "I feel guilty because I don't feel anything."

"All of this just happened, Iris. You need to give it time -"

"What sort of monster am I, when I don't feel anything at taking a life?"

"You are the kindest and bravest woman I have ever met!" he insisted, a wistful glint forming in his eyes. "Those men, they were monsters. They came to kill, and you made sure they never will again."

Marsac pulled her into a hug, and held her closely. She was still shaking, and her breathing was still fast, but after a while she started to relax.

"You cant see it yet," he muttered, resting his head on top of hers, "but soon enough you will be able to celebrate the fact that you've proven the king wrong. You know, he actually said no women could defend herself against such men and now I imagine he must feel very stupid."

Iris let out a hiccuping sound, that almost seemed like a laugh. Marsac felt a himself smile for a moment.

"You see," he whispered. "Everything will be clearer tomorrow when you've had a chance to rest."

"How can I?" she cried, worming her way out of the embrace. She looked exhausted, and her eyes had reddened from the tears.

"I see their faces every time I close my eyes."

"I may have something that will let you sleep without dreaming," he pondered. "But I warm you – you'll have one hell of a headache tomorrow."

Hoping he would be forgiven due to the circumstances, Marsac had broken into Treville's office and stolen a bottle of expensive brandy. After a few glasses, and a sedative they kept hidden in the infirmary, Iris had gone out like a light and was now sleeping peacefully in her bed.

Marsac had taken place on the staircase in the courtyard, nursing a glass of the brandy he had put aside for himself. With a sigh, he took a swig from the glass in his hands, and closed his eyes.

You called her kind and brave, but why stop there? You could have told her how beautiful and intelligent she is, and how desperately you want her to love you, he groaned at himself. Tilting his head back, the last of the brandy disappeared in seconds. He felt it warm it's way down his throat and groaned again. She wouldn't love him – not the way he wanted her to. Iris had never spoken of anyone else, never even shown that sort of interest in anyone, least of all him.

Like Aramis, Iris had a natural charm that attracted everyone around her. He had been fool enough to fall for it, and now months later he was still falling.

The sound of hooves brought his attention away from his own thoughts, and he looked up to see Treville and Aramis return. The light had dimmed in the last hour, but through the darkening twilight he could see their worried faces.

"Where is-"

"She's sleeping," Marsac interrupted, getting up from his seat on the stairs. A stable boy appeared and took the reins of their horses, and Treville gestured for them to follow him to his office.

"We've been interrogating some of the surviving men who attacked the palace," he explained to Marsac as he threw his cloak over the back of his chair.

"Who were they?"

"Hired people – none of those men were smart enough to find a way into the palace on their own. They were simply there to spread destruction and take down the king and queen."

"And Iris?" Aramis questioned. He had taken position against the wall, with his arms crossed over his chest.

"She feels guilty."

"For saving the queens life?" A frown formed on Aramis' face.

"She feels guilty because she doesn't feel anything," Marsac explained, looking from one to the other. "Everything happened so quickly for her, so I don't think she's quite processed what she's done yet."

"I overheard her majesty explain what went down," Treville mumbled, taking place in his chair. "Iris took down five of them before the guards appeared."

"Five! No wonder she's so out of it."

"And now we'll have to wait and see what happens – the outcome of this could change everything."

"What do you mean?" Aramis asked, walking closer.

"Under no circumstances would I ever put Iris in danger – but I recognise that look she has in her eyes. It's one I've seen plenty of times before, one I saw in both of you. I brought her with me yesterday to present an idea for her."

"Which is?" Marsac inquired.

"I have a friend who owes me a favour. He was a soldier himself once, till he decided to put aside his sword and marry some rich widow. Now he has more resources than he knows what to do with, and he relishes at things that are out of the ordinary."

"What does that have to do with Iris?"

"I wanted to propose that she goes to him, with my blessing, and learns all of this properly. He is a good man," he assured them as he saw their hesitation, "above all, he is the sort of man who believes you should have a chance if you're willing to fight for it – be it a man or a woman."

"And then what?" Aramis blurted out. "I'm convinced she could be beyond brilliant with the right sort of training, but then what? I've certainly never heard of female soldier before."

"After today's events, I'll let Iris find herself again. In the meantime, I plan to breach the subject with the king. If nothing else, the queen is intrigued with Iris."

"What will happen if Iris goes the other way? She could just as well decide she never wants anything to do with any of this ever again."

Treville smiled sadly.

"You tell me. Has Iris never showed any sign of giving up if things got rough?"

Aramis and Marsac exchanged a glance.

"She wouldn't," Marsac admitted. "What are we to do in the meantime?"

"You look out for her. No matter what the outcome, she will need your support."

In the days that followed, Iris kept mostly to herself. It wasn't a hard thing to do at the garrison, as everyone was off to the palace for further protection after the attack. She often wondered around in her own thoughts, not meeting the eyes of anyone. Aramis and Marsac both tried to coax her out of her shell, to make her smile again but nothing seemed to have the effect they needed.

She was now the centre of attention of the musketeers. News of her actions had travelled fast, but there was a divided opinion of her. Half the men believed her to be a hero – nothing short of a miracle, a woman who could do anything. The other half watched her with disbelief, whispered loudly making sure she would heard their words. It took her six days before she finally lost it.

She had been filling small bonfires around the courtyard with some dry kindle when a group of musketeers passed.

"Makes sense, doesn't it?" One of them said, a tall man called Freer. "First she finds a way in with the captain and now she wants a place in our ranks."

Anger flared through her as the men snickered, and she turned around and clenched her fist before thinking.

A crack sounded when her fist collided with his face, sending him back a step. Everyone is the courtyard looked up in surprise as Freer took a hand to his nose and withdrew it to see blood.

"You broke my nose," he observed, looking at her in disbelief.

"That wont be all I break if you don't start treating me with some respect," she hissed loudly, and marched back to her room.

After that, the men saw Iris in a new light. No one bothered her anymore – Freer the least of all.

She hadn't spoken of her feelings of taking a life since that day, and she didn't plan to bring it up. Marsac had been right, she knew she had acted to save not only herself but the queen. There was no joy at the thought. Killing, no matter who it concerned, was horrible, but knowing her actions had given the guards enough time to find the queen gave her just enough relief to find a way to live with it.

She was absent-mindedly twisting the bracelet on her wrist when she heard two knocks on her door.

"Who is it?" Iris called. The door opened slightly and Aramis stuck his head inside.

"Do you have a moment?" he asked quietly, a strange look on his face. Iris sat up in her bed and frowned.

"Is something wrong?"

"Oh, no, nothing at all," he assured her, but he sounded off. "The captain wants a word."

Iris rose slowly from her bed, feeling he wasn't telling her something. She followed him down the hall, and out into the courtyard.

She almost stopped walking when she stepped out there. The courtyard was filled with musketeers, who stopped speaking the instant she appeared. Everyone stared at her with the same expression as Aramis, and a knot started forming in her gut.

"What's going on?" she whispered to Aramis, who simply shrugged and gave her a push towards the stairs.

"Don't keep him waiting."

She felt the eyes of everyone follow her as she made her way to the staircase, where Marsac was standing. He gave a nod of assurance as she went up the steps, the knot in her stomach expanding.

She felt a moment of relief when she stepped inside the hall that led to Treville's office, as she was out of sight from everyone. Iris stopped in front of the door, not sure if she wanted to step inside. Taking a deep breath, she reached for the handle and walked in.

"Aramis said you wanted a word cap..."

Her words trailed off when she laid eyes on the man behind the desk. Although they were indeed called "The Kings Musketeers", she never seen or heard of his presence in the garrison. Wearing his fine clothes, he looked out of place here in the worn out office, where things were made of wood and not marble. He looked expectantly at her as she quickly closed the door behind her, and curtsied.

"Forgive me your majesty, I was not aware of your presence here."

He waved her closer, and she glanced to the side where Treville stood. He wore the same expression as the musketeers in the courtyard.

"You've made quite the commotion, mademoiselle Chevalier," Louis began, folding his hands before him. Iris glanced at Treville again, to get a sign of whether or not this meeting would end well for her. All she got was the feeling that she should keep quiet, and let him speak.

"I must admit I had my doubts when captain Treville informed me of your... skills, that day. Frankly, I was sure you would be dead within moments of being found. I never for a moment imagined you were capable of such things, with you being a woman and a fairly young one of that. I'm sure you understand."

"I do, your majesty," she said, but he had already continued talking.

"It is of course very different – I haven't heard of anyone who have done it so far, but I've given it a lot of thought and I've decided that this change shall be welcomed. Captain Treville has been speaking your case for the last couple of days, and her majesty seems equally invested in making it happen, so that is why I've made my way here today."

He rose from his chair and looked at her, waiting for her to speak.

"I'm... I'm not sure I follow, your majesty," she said hesitantly, thoughts whirling around in her mind. What case had Treville been speaking of?

"Your commission, of course," Louis answered, as if it was obvious.

Iris felt her jaw drop. Had the king just said he was here to give her her commission? She turned to Treville, who now gave her a smile that confirmed what she had heard.

"I... well, I... that's quite an honour, your majesty, but I-"

"Do you not want it?" Louis asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, I didn't mean that! I simply meant to say... well, I was of the thought that women have no place in the ranks of the musketeers. Which I disagree with myself, but all the same I understood that was how things was. Your majesty," she added.

"If what I've heard of you is true, mademoiselle Chevalier, you will prove that thought wrong. The musketeers is about loyalty and honour, and those are both things I've heard when people speak of you. So, if you accept, and you're ready to make history, kneel before me."

Iris watched him turn to a sword that stood leaning against the wall, and quickly turned to Treville for guidance. The trust that radiated from him overwhelmed her, and she sank to her knees.

"Hereby, I commission you," Louis said touching one of her shoulders with the tip of the blade, "into the regiment of the musketeers," he continued, touching her other shoulder.

Putting the sword aside, he glanced down at her with the same expectant look from before.

"I hope to see great things from you, Iris Chevalier of the kings musketeers."

Nodding to Treville, he left the office. Iris still knelt at the floor, too shocked to even move. When a hand appeared before her, she looked up into the beaming face of Treville.

"What just happened, captain?" Iris asked breathlessly. She took his hand and stood up, looking into the beaming eyes of the man before her.

"We made history, Iris."

A/N

I know I said this would be Savoy, but with the slight problem of wanting to write a realistic travelling time (which I now think I can, thanks to riversidewren) it must wait for next chapter.

And next chapter will come a little later than usually, as I have a full weekend planned with no time to write - but hopefully you will stick with Iris and I as things go even further south! Also, some may wonder if there is to be a sequel, and I promise that it is in the works. Till then, enjoy x