AN/ And, at last, the end. This was such fun to write, and the longest story I've ever posted! Thank you to everyone who's read it, or who has reviewed, faved, and followed. You're all awesome. I hope you enjoy the conclusion to the narrative.

Disclaimer: I do not own the BBC's The Musketeers.

Epilogue

Four Years Later

Athos watched as Etienne marched the newest set of recruits through their paces. They were a skilled bunch, and were well on their way to becoming fully fledged members of the Musketeers or Parisian Guard. D'Artagnan's guard looked nothing like the old Red Guard, nor did they act with the ruthless and corrupt malevolence as their predecessors. The recruitment process for both musketeers and guard was not only strength and skill with weaponry, but also good character, something that both Athos and his protégé took very seriously.

One of the recruits lurched forward in the circle and tackled Etienne with his sword. Etienne parried and the two fought well, until suddenly the recruit feigned to the left and got the upper hand.

"Not bad, Edmund," Etienne praised.

One of the other recruits snorted.

"Is there a problem, Durant?" Etienne asked.

The recruit in question was one that Athos didn't take particularly care for. He was cocky and had something of a nasty streak that meant his competition wasn't quite as light hearted as it was amongst the other recruits. Athos had to admit that the young man was good, but unless he learnt to grow up and put his brother's first, he wouldn't find much room for him in either the guard or the musketeers.

"You're going easy on him," Durant responded. "You're giving people easy wins."

"If you're suggesting I detected Edmund's feign, then yes, you are correct," Etienne said smoothly, "but we're looking at technique today, and sometimes the best way to demonstrate it, is to see what it looks like when it's successful."

"Men at war don't go easy on one another," Durant pointed out.

"No, they don't," Etienne acknowledged. "But this is training."

"Maybe it was this kind of shoddy training that resulted in your injury when at war?" Durant said snidely.

"Maybe it was the three to one odds and an unexpected ambush in unfamiliar territory on an overcast night," Etienne responded tightly, clearly at his rags end with the man. There was an intake of breath amongst the group of recruits. Athos started to make his way down from the balcony towards the group.

"Uncle 'Thos!" a small yet loud voice interrupted the stand-off.

Athos, Etienne, and the recruits looked up to see a small child race amongst the recruits' feet to throw himself at his godfather. Athos gruffly picked him up and gave him a strong hug.

"Well, hello Charlie!" he said brightly… or at least as brightly as Athos ever managed.

Walking behind his son was d'Artagnan, his fleur-de-lis pauldron bared on his shoulder, and his dark blue cloak billowing behind him; the new uniform of the Parisian Guard, modelled off its Captain's former position. A smooth wooden cane supported his step, but he moved with speed and a lilting grace.

"Athos," d'Artagnan grinned upon seeing his friend.

"Hello, d'Art," Athos replied, still holding Charlie up.

"What's going on?" d'Artagnan asked, looking about the recruits standing in his proximity. "Thought I heard someone mouthing off at Etienne?"

"Just a disagreement over the training regime," Etienne replied smoothly. It would have taken a close friend to the man to see his deep-lying anger. D'Artagnan was one of those friends. He'd also heard most of the preceding conversation.

"What was the disagreement?" d'Artagnan asked.

"I believe we're not getting proper training," Durant interjected, the slime all but dripping off his words.

"Is that so?" d'Artagnan asked. "I would have thought Etienne an excellent teacher."

"Like you could do any better," Durant said sharply.

"What's that supposed to mean?" D'Artagnan kept his voice level, even friendly.

"He seems to be arguing that you and I are poor fighters because we were injured during the war," Etienne replied drably. D'Artagnan wasn't sure what had stopped the man from punching the recruit before now.

"Shall we put it to the test?" d'Artagnan asked.

"What?" Durant asked, surprised.

"You and I can duel, if you'd like," d'Artagnan said. "Don't worry. When you lose, I'll let you continue your training."

"When?" Durant gawped, mockingly, his eyes going to d'Artagnan's cane. "Not a chance."

"Shall we put your sword where your mouth is then?" d'Artagnan asked, as he slipped his cloak off.

Beyond their group, other musketeers were coming out to see what all the fuss was about. Porthos and Aramis came to join Athos, with Porthos lifting Charlie on his broad shoulders.

"Shall we watch daddy wipe the floor with this… this gentleman?" Porthos asked the child, grinning toothily as he amended his language. Charlie for his part, simple watched with apt attention.

"I'll go easy on you, seeing as your kid is watching," Durant said coyly.

"How kind," d'Artagnan responded, suddenly lurching forward and drawing his sword, taking the recruit by surprise. "But you may wish to take this a bit more seriously. After all, it needs to feel real, does it not?" D'Artagnan threw the recruit's earlier comments back in his face, and Durant scowled, and crouched into a defensive pose.

"This'll be good," Aramis said as he leaned against the bannister and watched his friend parry the recruit's sloppy attack.

"Your technique needs work, Durant!" Athos shouted. Etienne all but beamed with glee at the idea of d'Artagnan putting Durant in place.

Durant was fierce in his attack, but kept overstepping and swinging wide. He tried multiple times to take out d'Artagnan on his left side, perceiving it to be the weaker one, only to find himself knocked back.

Despite being reliant on a cane to support his left leg, d'Artagnan's sword arm was still excellent, and he'd spent the last four years learning how to move his body to protect his left side, and still move cleanly and quickly. It wasn't always the most graceful of fighting styles, and he'd never go back into the field, but it worked for the guard posts he did take up, and for his role as Captain.

Athos had to admit he was impressed, even now. He also saw at least four different times that d'Artagnan could have taken Durant and didn't. Instead he let Durant work himself up more and more, until even the recruit could recognise himself floundering. Finally, d'Artagnan put an end to it, and went in to take the "killing blow".

"Your technique's sloppy Durant," d'Artagnan informed the recruit. "Maybe you should pay attention to Etienne's tutelage. That way, when you're party of ten is ambushed by a raiding party of thirty-five men strong, you might make it out alive."

D'Artagnan offered his hand to the downed recruit, but Durant refused to take it, and instead scowled as d'Artagnan nodded gravely to Etienne and turned towards his friends and his son.

Meanwhile, Durant picked himself off the floor, considering what move to make next.

"Don't you dare!" an angry female voice interrupted his movement as he lurched towards d'Artagnan's back. At the same time, Athos and Aramis moved to stand either side of their friend's now defended back, and Etienne raised his sword to the recruit's chest level. Porthos remained where he was, but lifted Charlie down from his shoulders so the child wouldn't have a full view of the action going on.

Durant stopped short.

"Going after someone when their back is turned is a cowardly and dishonourable thing to do," Constance d'Artagnan said sharply. She had watched the fight undetected at the entrance of the garrison, but now stood by her husband as he turned to face the recruit. In her arms she held Anne d'Artagnan, her and d'Artagnan's three year old daughter, who had been born not many months after the war had ended.

Durant looked as if he didn't know how to respond.

Athos exchanged looks with d'Artagnan who nodded.

"You're out of here, Durant," Athos said. "Pack your room. I want you gone by nightfall."

"That's not fair!"

"You attempting to attack a man who had his back turned," Aramis interjected. "That was hardly fair."

Durant looked ready to protest further, but thought better of it, seeing the wall of angered expressions he was met with. Silently he stalked off.

"As you were, people!" shouted Athos. The garrison sprang back into life. Etienne patted d'Artagnan on the shoulder and went back to the remaining group of recruits.

"Treville asked me to drop his off for you," Constance said, handing a letter to Athos, as d'Artagnan took a hold of his daughter and gave her kiss, to her squealing delight.

"Thank you," Athos said. "I'll read it later. But first, we have something to go celebrate."

"Yes, well, don't keep him too late," Constance said.

"We'll drop the pup off before dawn, don't you worry," Porthos teased.

"Ha ha," d'Artagnan intoned.

"He loves it really," Aramis grinned, ruffling the man's hair. "Let's go."

"I'll see you later, love," d'Artagnan said, kissing his wife and leaving her with the children as his three brother's cajoled him out of the garrison for the night's birthday celebrations.

The war had changed them all, but, in the end, it didn't break them.

THE END