Hi Everyone. This my first attempt at FanFiction. I hope you like it. Any constructive criticism is welcome. All of the many mistakes I'm sure you'll find are my own.

Based on the BBC's musketeers series. I do not own anything and any similarities with other stories are coincidental.

The four musketeers approached the cave quietly and with learned stealth. They hid at the side of the cave, sat with their backs pressed against the wall. Inside they would face the most difficult foe they had ever encountered and his name was Hades.

'I'll never forgive the king for giving us this job,' moaned Aramis.

'I'm not sure we'll be around to worry about that,' came d'Artagnan's reply.

'Gentlemen, it is our duty to do as he requires,' replied Athos in a manner that belayed his fears.

'So you're fine wi' this then? Dying in the worst possible way and then being eat'n?' scolded Porthos.

Athos rolled his eyes and said nothing. None of them were happy about this mission, but they knew it was their duty. He looked at the others, d'Artagnan had become rather pale while Aramis wore a look of anger mixed with defiance. They knew how to fight most foes but this was like nothing they had ever encountered before. Fear was gripping all of them so tightly it was starting to suffocate them. Even Aramis who could normally joke at any situation was silent.

Aramis glanced at Athos and asked, 'Do we have a plan? Or are we just going to see what happens?' Athos glanced at the three men before him. No amount of planning would help them here. For once he was willing to forgo any thought process and just rely on their skills and ability, as well as their trust in each other. Sometimes Athos really hated being the leader of their group.

Suddenly, they heard footsteps like thunder and Hades appeared from the cave. At 10ft tall he towered over them, but as yet he had not seen them. Soon he would smell them though as his nostrils flared and a growl filled the air. Aramis and Porthos dove to their right to hide behind a bush and Athos and d'Artagnan soon followed. Hades was the biggest dragon they had ever seen!

The King had sent them to kill Hades as the dragon had set fire to much of France, burning crops and livestock in his wake. France could afford to lose no more. Cardinal Richelieu had suggested that Louis send his finest men. Captain Treville had protested but the king had decided to send his finest musketeers. So Athos, Porthos, Aramis and d'Artagnan had been forced to take on this great challenge.

Hades roared loudly and scoured his surroundings. The musketeers knew that the only way to defeat Hades was to lure him out of the cave. Unfortunately he had stopped right at the mouth of the cave and was now starting to turn back. d'Artagnan knew he was the fastest so he ran from his hiding place to stand directly in front of Hades. The dragon growled loudly and stared beadily at d'Artagnan, oblivious to the others lying in wait. All three had rolled their eyes when d'Artagnan had made his move.

'Idiot,' Pothos muttered fondly under his breath.

'He's our idiot,' replied Athos and Aramis in unison.

As d'Artagnan distracted the dragon Aramis moved to gain a better view while Porthos and Athos waited to strike. Suddenly Hades let out a fearsome roar and spewed fire around himself as if he knew it was not only d'Artagnan there. d'Artagnan dove to his left to avoid the fire and felt his arm take most of his weight. Aramis would surely want to look at it later. The others stayed still until the fiery inferno abated.

It was then that Aramis struck. Using two arquebus' (one being Porthos') he aimed at Hades knees and hit them both. Hades let out a roar as he started to sway, looking for his assailant. Porthos ran as fast as he could and charged into the dragon's legs, forcing Hades to the ground. Within a few seconds Athos and d'Artagnan emerged and plunged their swords through Hades heart. The musketeer's had won. All four stood catching their breath, looking down at the body in front of them. Together they walked away from the scene ready to find an inn for the night. The silence only punctuated by the whine from Aramis.

'It had to singe my hat!'

'Aramis we just defeated a massive dragon, almost certain death and you are moaning about your hat!' came d'Artagnan's cry. Porthos' laugh could surely be heard a mile away, while Athos gave a very rare smile.

'I liked this hat,' Aramis mumbled. Athos having heard enough turned and placed out his hand. The others placed their hands on top of his and together they recited 'All for one and one for all.'

'The end,' came Queen Anne's voice. She looked down at her four year old son and smiled. He loved his musketeer stories and Anne had used knowledge of events that she knew had happened, those she thought had probably happened and her own imagination. Her son smiled warmly up at her. 'You're tired little man.' He shook his head but she could already see sleep starting to overcome him. She moved herself from her place on the bed to the chair next to it.

She sighed. Her son reminded her so much of his father. Aramis. It was not long after war was declared with Spain that Minister Treville had informed her of Aramis' decision to leave the musketeers and retire at the monastery in Douai. That was four years ago. He had abandoned everything because of her. Well at least that was how she felt. She knew about his bond with his brothers and could see no other reason for him to leave but for his own guilt and need for penance. She too had thought of all the lives that could have been lost because of that night at the convent, yet she could never regret her time with him. She remembered the way he had scolded her gently in Emilie's tent and their kiss for the first time since the convent. Both of them knew it was forbidden and neither could stop themselves. In fact she had often wished that they had had more time together. A selfish wish perhaps, but she could not run like he had. She still had a role play as Queen of France and a mother. She felt a twinge of guilt. Aramis could not be a father to his son and that had led to his actions with Lady Marguerite and Rochefort's correct accusations. She would never forget the hatred in Aramis' eyes as he fought Rochefort to save her.

She glanced at her son who was finally giving in to his tiredness. So stubborn he was. She leant back in the chair and closed her eyes. Aramis appeared as he often did and a smile came to her lips. That day, the day that changed her life forever. The way he covered her body with his while the fight went on around them. His comforting voice that spoke to her as a woman and not as a Queen. The day she had truly taken notice of the men that guarded her rather than taking them for granted.

Her thoughts changed to Aramis a long way from Paris fulfilling his duties as a monk. She couldn't help the beaming smile that came to her lips as she remembered the scene at the convent between Aramis and Athos.

'If I ever complain about an assignment not being exciting enough..'

'I will punch you so hard, you'll beg me to kick you.'

'I was going say, remind me of this moment, but that works too.'

She had discerned that Aramis had found the time at the lake boring and had wished for more excitement. Well he had certainly gotten that, as they had been hunted by Gallagher and his army of men. If he had found those few days boring, how could he manage the life of a monk?

There was only one answer. His stubbornness. She had asked him to flee when Rochefort had revealed the truth. The look he gave her told her that he would not leave her until he knew she was safe. Even if it cost him his life, which it almost had. She looked at her now sleeping son. At least Aramis was safe. The same could not be said for the others.

While Aramis resided in the relative safety of the monastery, Athos, Porthos and d'Artagnan were out on the battlefields.

Athos, now captain of the musketeers, had always been the natural choice to succeed Treville, at least in her eyes. Athos had always seemed stoic and unapproachable, yet was surely the leader of the group of four. He had a natural command, she had often felt that he didn't relish the role, but was able to take charge if he had to. She had heard it said that those who do not seek power are often the best to wield it. In this case she had to agree.

Her opinion of Athos was formed mainly on the time spent with the musketeers at the lake and the convent. Athos had barked out the orders as the assassin had killed her maid and instructed them when they needed to stop and rest. He had also formulated the plan to split up the musketeers. The others may have occasionally voiced their concerns, but in the end they had followed Athos. His icy glare was part of him and she rarely saw him smile, yet he wasn't above teasing the others.

'Did I mention this has to count?'

'Thanks for the reminder.'

BANG

'Did you get him?'

'Athos, please'

She laughed at that recollection of a very tense and terrifying situation. It seemed they had both needed a moment of lightness in the darkness and she had also been grateful for it.

He was also fiercely loyal to his brothers. She knew that he had known about her treason with Aramis but it was his loyalty to Aramis rather than the king that had prevailed. It was his plan to capture Vargas and discredit Rochefort. He was certainly an intelligent man.

d'Artagnan, the youngest of the group and in many ways the one who had changed most before her eyes. She had eventually linked to voice of the man who had helped Vadim escape the Bastille with the face of d'Artagnan. Initially she had been surprised by this, but then she had realised it had been part of the plan. Taking her hostage was not part of the plan but Vadim's escape had been. Now she thought about, not many cadets were given guard duty, but d'Artagnan was always seen when Athos, Porthos and Aramis were on guard duty. Quite simply, even without his commission, he was one of them.

d'Artagnan was the youngest of the group and they had let him know it. She was sure the musketeers had not known how much she and her ladies observed them at the lake. As she was swimming back to the edge of the lake she had observed a rather funny scene. Aramis was sat leaning against a tree while Athos and Porthos were putting d'Artagnan through his paces. At one point she saw the older men scratch the younger man's uniform. She couldn't hear what was said, but a moment later d'Artagnan had been dragged across the forest floor by his legs. Aramis had turned to look, but it was clear there was no sympathy as he laughed.

She had also observed a scene between the four in the palace gardens.

'd'Artagnan, go an' get my water from my saddlebag,' came Porthos' voice.

'And why should I do that Porthos?'

'Because to be a good musketeer, you must learn to follow orders,' came Athos' expressionless reply.

'I'll ask again. How long does this go on for?'

'As I told you before, as long as it's funny,' retorted Aramis.

d'Artagnan stormed off while the others, including Athos laughed rather loudly.

How he had changed. She had seen the ferocious look in d'Artagnan's eyes as he fought Rochefort. As he killed Rochefort. He had transformed from a boy into to man and the men around him had certainly guided him.

Porthos had originally terrified her. A mountain of a man who looked like he could snap your neck without thinking twice. Actually when she thought about it, he probably could do that. Perhaps he was a lesson in not judging by appearances. Porthos had been there when she had given Aramis his crucifix and was often seen by Aramis' side. He had shielded her first at the lake and had easily lifted her onto Aramis' horse. For such a strong man he had quite a delicate touch. After they stopped to rest Aramis had suggested that she help Porthos collect sticks for a fire. Having never collected sticks in her life, she wasn't sure if there were right sticks or wrong sticks. Porthos had kindly helped her.

'Hello Your Majesty.'

'I brought some sticks. Aramis said you were building a fire.'

'That was very helpful, thank you. Maybe you should rest. Are you ok, you Majesty?'

'Did I collect the right sticks?'

She watched as Porthos sifted through them.

'The sticks that make the bes' fire are the dry ones. These ones are a bit green so they don't light as well.'

'I see. You have made many fires I suppose.'

'I'm the best at it.'

She gave him an enquiring look.

'Athos once made a fire. He decided to pour gunpowder on the leaves so they would light bet'er. Shot the fire and ended up singein' everythin' in the camp includin' 'imself.' Porthos laughed and so did she.

Yes, Porthos was intimidating, but he was also a gentle soul when it was required. He had gone to face Vargas on his own despite the protestations of his brothers. Especially Aramis. Their loyalty to each other was overwhelming and in many ways she had been glad to be at least an outside part of their group.

She heard a noise and her eyes snapped open. Louis stood before her. He leaned over the sleeping boy and kissed his forehead and swept from the room and ignoring her completely. She was used to it by now. She settled herself in the chair again trying to regain her thoughts. She smiled as her memory returned to a moment when the musketeers had all momentarily forgotten she was there.

As they rode away from the assassins they had eventually reduced the horses to a walk. She had been sat with Aramis and longed to lean back on him for support as she grew weary, but she knew they couldn't stop yet and resisted her temptation. She was sure Aramis wouldn't mind but she didn't need them to think she was weak.

'Hey d'Artagnan, stop fiddling with your doublet. If there is a hole in it Aramis will sew it up for you,' said Porthos in exasperation.

d'Artagnan pouted, 'This your fault,' he signalled to Athos and Porthos. 'You had to drag me through the dirt.'

'Your uniform looks much better now. Like a proper musketeer,' quipped Athos. d'Artagnan glared back at Athos while Anne heard Aramis chuckle from behind her.

'Porthos is right. I'll stitch it. After all, I made a good job of his shoulder, until he tore them out,' interjected Aramis.

'Yeah, you should have been a seamstress,' said Porthos with a grin. Athos and d'Artagnan were also smiling.

'Porthos my friend, I take that as compliment. However, if you no longer wish for me to save your life, I will leave you in the capable hands of Athos,' said Aramis with cheeky grin. Anne remained silent. She was enjoying this exchange very much. So much more fun than the usual idle gossip her ladies talked about. She could also see d'Artagnan listening with rapt attention. He was definitely the new one.

Porthos feigned fear, 'I take it all back. I never meant to cause offense. Please forgive me,' as he bowed his head mockingly towards Aramis.

d'Artagnan gave Athos a quizzical look. Athos answered, 'I have many skills d'Artagnan but sewing is not one of them. I leave that to mother hen over there,' indicating Aramis. Anne felt Aramis sigh but also the laughter he was suppressing.

'I am totally unappreciated' he added shaking his head.

Then the moment was gone as they heard the sound of hooves and urged the horses forward once again.

Anne opened her eyes and saw that the light from the candle was fading. She had been sat in that chair immersed in her own thoughts longer than she anticipated. Her son was sleeping soundly with no knowledge of the dangers around him.

As the war had begun she had promised herself that her son would know the men that she considered to be the bravest and most loyal. He would hopefully one day meet them all for himself and then grow to make his own opinions of them.

However, if they were to fall, she had vowed that they would live on. That her son would know them the best he could. For now they remained stories but she would one day make sure he knew they were real. That they had existed and that their values would live on.

She rose from her chair and kissed her son on the forehead and tucked the blanket around him.

All for one and one for all.