Happy New Year's Eve to all of you!

When we started writing together this fanfiction back in February this year, we had no idea where this journey would take us and no clue that we would write 90 chapters … our goal was always to finish posting it this year (2017!). So today we have reached this goal. Here is our final chapter for all of our readers, who have followed us during the past months. Thank you so much for your support and letting us know in your reviews what you liked / thought about it.

I dedicate this very last chapter to Helen!

Sorry for letting you waiting that long with this small gesture of valuing your hard work you put in it. Correcting our texts on a tablet that was acting up more than once, I am certain that was not always easy. You have put a lot of time and energy in it and we both could learn from you a lot. Thank you so much!

Why did I let you wait so long? Well, I wanted to make sure that the chapter has something to do with you and the reason why I chose the last chapter is simply the fact that you inspired me/us to write a different ending scene.

Ebm36 & me had planned to finish this story with the first paragraph of this last chapter, but while proofreading you suddenly wrote: "I can' t wait to see that …" I won't say what you wanted to see, because I don't want to spoil our lovely readers. Your idea has given our story another ending and I am very grateful for that.

I want to thank both of our lovely betas Beth & Helen for their hard work, time and energy they have put in this story. Without them I would have never been brave enough to post it here. They accompanied us from I think it was April … but I could be wrong until July and of course even after that, when we still had questions. Thank you so much for your help and friendship!

Alright, enough of this, I guess you all want to read our last chapter.

(Note: it is slightly au to series 2)

Here it is - Enjoy!

xx Kira

Chapter 90

Monday, 16th June

It was around noon as they returned back to the garrison. The cool air which had welcomed them when they had left the garrison had long disappeared to be replaced by an almost unbearable heat. The atmosphere in the room was stifling and they had abandoned their leathers except Athos who sat at the table, unmoving, his head low, his shoulders hunched. Before entering the refectory, he had been tempted to plunge his head into the nearest trough, instead, he had poured a whole ladle of water from the well onto his hair which now curled and glistened in the bright light. His eyes seemed huge in his still pale face and they stared at nothing in particular.

"Athos you look pale, you need to eat something and afterwards you should lie down." Aramis stated firmly.

Athos ignored him, but he followed his friends to the mess. His head was spinning and he felt slightly dizzy.

Light duty … what on earth is light duty, if I can't manage an easy ride through the forest? My head is killing me. Aramis you are right I need to eat, but right now I fear I can't … maybe I should lie down …

He had felt a hand on his shoulder and Porthos' soft voice in his ear, while he was pushing his friend further on to the mess:

"I'm glad that you came with us this morning, but don't overdo it. Aramis is right. You know that." Porthos whispered.

Athos sighed out loud.

Now the swordsman was sitting at his usual place around their favourite table in Serge's canteen, but he didn't eat anything. Aramis observed him closely: Athos sat sideways, his head bowed slightly and his eyes had a distant look. Aramis had decided to sit next to him in order to watch his brother closely. This way he could jump faster, if Athos collapsed and he looked a little like he would pass out soon.

"Athos, you should take off your jacket." He chided quietly.

But Athos ignored him. He closed his eyes briefly hoping that Aramis would leave him alone and stop watching him with these worried big dark eyes. The mingled smells in the room kept him from eating but he could feel the medic's eyes fixed on him.

Porthos who felt Athos' unease suddenly turned to Aramis and said.

"For God's sake eat or do something else, but stop staring at him. He will tell us, when he wants to lie down and you, Athos, eat something."

He pushed a bowl with soup towards him, but Athos couldn't eat, the heat, the smells and a latent anxiety made him feel slightly nauseous. He swallowed his saliva and tried to persuade himself that he was hungry. He had to eat at least to make Aramis leave him alone, but soup, no, it was just unthinkable. He took a spoonful, brought it to his mouth and tried to swallow without gagging. A second one, he could manage, but the third one returned to the bowl untouched.

Rather satisfied, Aramis decided to do something to busy his mind and his fingers. He stood up and searched his jacket pockets. He found a small plainly bound bible, a folded sheet of paper and a lead pencil. He then returned to his seat, throwing a sceptical look at Athos. He sat down with a loud sigh and opened his bible, he leafed through the narrow pages covered in tiny condensed letters, then he raised his eyes and looked at d'Artagnan. The young man was devouring greedily -and rather noisily- the content of his bowl. Aramis smiled. Their youngest was still such a boy sometimes, even if looking attentively into his eyes showed more to anyone who knew him. There was a certain maturity in the deep dark irises and sometimes, a shadow darkened them, especially when he looked at Athos like now.

"D'Artagnan, what were the exact words?" Aramis asked out of the blue.

"Sorry, what?" D'Artagnan answered his mouth full.

"Eat first, swallow, then answer." Aramis laughed.

Athos shook his head with a half smile.

"I began to write your Gascon prayer, remember. I want to add it in my bible, but I don't remember the exact words."

"Only the exact words?" Porthos asked unbelievingly.

"Alright, I don't remember anything after Sa gran bontat urós sus tots me ren."

Porthos burst out laughing, spitting a whole mouthful of stew under d'Artagnan's disgusted gaze.

"Aramis, don't try to pronounce it please." He said after calming his laughters.

Aramis threw him a dark look.

"Eth es ma guarda, eth es ma fortalessa, Ma deliurança e ma rondèla espessa." D'Artagnan whispered, looking at Athos with a serious and caring expression.

They all raised their eyes, feeling the intensity of this moment.

"What does it mean?" Porthos dared to ask in a low hushed voice.

"He is my guard, he is my fortress, my deliverance and my strong shield." Aramis answered in the same tone, his eyes bright with fondness.

Athos raised his eyes to look at d'Artagnan and nodded slowly, his eyes bearing the same expression as the young man's, fond, solemn and a little sad, because the last time he had heard these words … No, he chased the thought away, only concentrating on the meaning of the words.

Aramis resumed his writing, mouthing the words as he wrote them. Porthos slowly plunged his spoon in his bowl and Athos … Athos just stayed quiet and immobile. The spell was broken by Tréville's arrival, he had just returned from the palace with news from the woman his men had to check out this morning.

Unfortunately the news was not good. He had heard the secretary of the Spanish ambassador was found murdered, bound to a wheel of his own coach. Other rumors had reached his and the King's ear that people with Spanish names were slaughtered while leaving their houses. They needed to do something about Emilie and her dangerous talk or he feared chaos in the streets of Paris.

He looked at the Inséparables. Porthos and d'Artagnan were enjoying their meal, Aramis was writing something, but had positioned himself next to Athos, and his Lieutenant simply looked exhausted and spent.

If I tell him this now he will glare at me with his leave-me-alone stare and his mood will falter even more. He knows that I am observing him and he knows that he needs to rest. I won't say a word. Aramis will take care of it … no need to frustrate him further, Athos hasn't reached his old strength yet.

Tréville sighed inwardly then he started his report.

Athos didn't really listen. He waited for Tréville to tell him to lie down, but it didn't come. His thoughts drifted off. Remembering d'Artagnan's words as he was fighting for each breath to survive, each beating heartbeat that burst under his ribs and the unbearable itching on his chest, his brothers suffering with him and not letting him go in his hour of need.

It's over, Athos. It's over … take your time. My brothers saved me, took care of me and never let me down. I should concentrate on that which lies in front of me: a new mission, a new task. This woman Emilie … Tréville is right we cannot simply arrest her and throw her in a prison cell. Look how this worked out with Rochefort ... He snorted inwardly. She is not only crazy as d'Artagnan just put it, but dangerous. Oh, come on Aramis, not every woman needs to be protected, look at my wife Anne … oh well, now he's starting to argue with Tréville. My head hurts, can't they simply all stop talking …

When Aramis tried to protest and Tréville became more angry, Athos decided to intervene. He had followed the exchange between the two men with mixed feelings. He was amused and irritated. Amused because Aramis looked like a schoolboy admonished by his master, and irritated because this discussion was leading nowhere and hurt his painful head.

"What does the King says about all this? Will he meet her?" He said at last in a neutral tone, voice low.

Tréville snorted something about the King being busy with state's affairs and Athos had the dumb feeling that he didn't want to tell him what Louis was really busy with. Perhaps at any other day he would have understood Tréville's innuendo, but not today.

Captain Tréville rushed away without giving any further explanations.

No Athos, I won't tell you what Louis is doing right now … your wife … true she helped us to investigate and she was really worried about you, but now that you are better she concentrates on gaining the trust of the King as his new mistress … No, you don't need to know this … rest … gain back your old strength. This woman is not good for you ...

Tréville didn't turn around. He needed fresh air. The heat in the mess was unbearable. His order had been clear, Aramis should go and investigate on his own and try to gain the trust of this crazy woman. Athos didn't like the idea, not at all. His brother alone with a mob who were ready to kill Spanish people. What would happen when they found out that Aramis' mother was from Spain?

Athos felt his heart beat faster and for a short moment he feared that he would collapse, the suffocating air in the room made it hard for him to catch his breath and the leather jacket, he was still wearing, made him suffer even more in the heated mess. So he stood up without a word, the atmosphere of the room too tense for him now.

Suddenly he felt Porthos on his left and Aramis on his right side, while d'Artagnan ran to open the door for him, so they shielded him from the others' curious looks. Athos dangerously swayed on his feet, but he felt the strong support of his friends' arms under his armpits and he gratefully took one slow step after another, until they had reached the middle of the courtyard. It was still too hot without any breath of air at this hour of noon. Aramis stopped him to pull off his jacket without saying a word.

Athos felt endlessly grateful for the love of his brothers. Porthos wanted to push him further, but Athos stopped then he looked into three pairs of dark eyes. First d'Artagnan who was standing opposite to him, then at Porthos and at last at Aramis. For each he took his time, searching the recognition of his friends, conveying through his eyes all his love for his brothers. Finally he said in a broken voice:

"Thank you for helping me to leave my past behind me, let's hope that the present and the future will bring us better times."

For a short time his brothers stood still but then Porthos reached for his hand, lifting it. Athos looked at him with surprised eyes but understood and let his friend cover his hand, d'Artagnan followed their example and Aramis was the last. They stayed like that for a while - their own private circle in the middle of the courtyard - without saying the words they usually said, but they didn't need to say them immediately, they were written in their hearts, minds and eyes in this special moment. They could all feel their brotherly bond and Athos' way of thanking them touched them deeply. As Athos feet finally started to sway again. Aramis said softly:

"All for one."

And Athos whispered back:

"And one for all".

Afterwards they helped Athos back to his room to rest, knowing that he was finally better. Athos stopped suddenly.

"What is it?" Aramis asked anxiously.

"He was right."

"Who?" D'Artagnan asked irritatingly.

"Rochefort." He muttered.

"What?" Porthos exclaimed anxiously.

"The past is never where you think you left it."

The collective relieved sigh made Athos smile and resume his walk.

"And we will erase his past once and for all sooner or later." D'Artagnan swore angrily.

Athos' three brothers nodded deep in thought, thinking how they could protect him in the future.

As the swordsman finally settled on his bed and was tucked under his blue blanket, he closed his eyes and fell peacefully asleep under the fond gaze of his three brothers, who were more than ready to protect him from all the evil out there.

XXXXX

Several weeks later

Athos could hear the clashing of the swords. Metal on metal, loud shouts and groaning.

Aramis, he's in danger … I hope we are not too late. I don't want to lose you. How glad I was when Anne brought you back ...

The fear for his brother's safety made him hurry. He ran down the corridor leading to the quarters of the Queen. Next to him he could hear Porthos panting and d'Artagnan's boots on the marble floor.

In the past weeks his brothers had helped him to gain his old strength, worked with him extra shifts in combat-fighting, horse riding, sword fighting and even shooting in order to help his back wound to heal faster and to distract him from the fact that the man who had tried to kill him was still unpunished.

In the beginning Athos had felt old, really old, but over time he had noticed how his old strength had returned. Back to his usual strength he had no problem with running next to his brothers and drawing his sword, ready to fight the enemy - but was he really ready to fight this enemy? He wasn't sure about it, but he knew that now was the time to stop that mass murderer.

As they entered the first of the Queen's rooms, Rochefort came tumbling out of the Queen's bedroom. Aramis' sword was sticking in his back, but the man was still standing and to their utter horror he drew the weapon out of his flesh with a sickening sound and stumbled in their direction, his whole body trembling and his blurry eye staring wildly at them.

Dear God, how many lives does this evil man have? Athos thought.

Rochefort's good eye widened when he saw Vargas calmly entering the room, followed by Tréville. The Spaniard's expression was both sad and calm, resigned.

"You betrayed me." Rochefort snarled.

"You left me no choice." Vargas admitted.

Rochefort lowered his gaze as if resigning himself but suddenly he lunged forward attacking the Spanish spy. Athos almost casually hit Rochefort's sword with his own to block him.

He should be dead … with this sword in his back he just drew out of himself … he should be dead. Why is this man still walking on both his feet? No, you won't kill someone else. Not this time … this time you won't be able to fulfill your devilish plan.

What have you done to Aramis? I can see he's hurt. This has to stop. Today. Now!

Form the distance Athos had seen Aramis holding his right arm, most probably he was hurt, but he couldn't ask him and check him over now.

Athos fought Rochefort again.

The Comte tried to fight back, but Athos was stronger and his own anger gave him strength. The severely wounded Comte somehow managed to stay on his feet. His rage, the blood which seemed to boil in his veins, made him continue to fight, ignoring the intense pain he should have felt. Athos confronted Rochefort with his own sword. Their swords crossed, but Athos stopped his thrust.

I can end this here and now. One single move and I can kill him, I have him, but it would be much too easy. It would be mercy and I don't want to give him this mercy. He doesn't deserve it. He has to pay for his crimes. Ending his life now wouldn't be any punishment at all. This man has endangered the throne, the King, the Queen, whole France … and I promised d'Artagnan something ...

For a moment Athos hesitated. A second time their swords met. Rochefort glared dangerously and Athos could see his thoughts:

He knows that I am aware of it that he has tried to kill me.

Athos was the better swordsman - his grace and elegance a striking contrast with Rochefort's heavy and clumsy moves - but suddenly to his friends' astonishment Athos retreated himself. It wasn't his fight anymore. Athos waited, the tip of his blade a few inches from Rochefort's palpitating throat, his arm steady, and to his own astonishment he heard himself saying:

"Surrender."

I can't believe I've just said that. Surrender … Aramis or d'Artagnan it should be them not me. I give this man too much power over me, if I kill him now. I won't repeat this mistake. It's not my fight but ours … one for all and all for one … Athos thought.

But Rochefort didn't listen to the words of the Lieutenant. Suddenly the four Musketeers circled him like dangerous wolves, each of them attacking him in turn. First Aramis, then Athos, now it was Porthos who took over, ready to protect Athos and worried about Aramis, who looked pale, some beads of sweat were glistening on his forehead. The big man thrust his sword with all his strength, all his rage, and when Rochefort tried to fight back, he used his fist. No rule, no honour, it was an execution.

No honour, you don't deserve to live. Aramis was right when he said one day we will have our chance and then we will fight against you without honour. My God Aramis looks pale. What has he done to you my friend, but Athos looks even paler … why hasn't he killed him? He could have done it with one strike. He has the strength … why did he stop?

Athos heard the clashing of their swords and he tried to calm his thundering heartbeat, while he watched Porthos' fierce fight.

Rochefort drew back again. In a glimpse of an eye d'Artagnan searched Athos' green eyes.

Permission to end this here and now. D'Artagnan pleaded with his dark brown eyes and Athos answered with a soft nod:

Finish him, finish it, I can't stand to see this monster any longer …

D'Artagnan nodded then he took over from Porthos who understood the young man's gesture he made with his fingers at once, and took a step back. D'Artagnan started his endgame, sparks flashing with each hit, matching the fury in d'Artagnan's eyes.

You have killed so many innocent people and you nearly killed Athos, Aramis, Constance … the King … the Queen. You don't deserve to live any longer. You are mine. God, I should have done this weeks ago … after we found out that you tried to kill Athos. This time I can't follow your rule Athos … not this time … this time it is heart over head.

And the young Gascon gave Rochefort his quietus. With all his force he jabbed his sword through Rochefort's belly. The insane man stared at him confused, as if he had imagined himself invincible. As he realised that he was dying, d'Artagnan drew his sword out of his body. Rochefort now sat on the floor, back against the wall. Blood was trickling out of his mouth and d'Artagnan knew that is was Rochefort's end. It amazed him, that he was still alive but at the same time it amazed him that, at last, he was really dying.

I promised Athos to end this. I have to keep my vow. This man was a monster, a devil, as if Satan himself had sent him.

He searched with his brown eyes the green eyes of his mentor. He noticed that Athos didn't show any signs of satisfaction. His expression was blank as if he didn't truly realise that at last, their enemy was dead, as if he expected him to rise again, like a devilish phoenix, and something else seemed to worry him: what was wrong with Aramis?

Tréville had watched his men fighting against Rochefort. He had noticed the silent talk that was going on between them, taking care of each other, making sure they all helped to stop this evil man, finally. He looked over to Aramis.

Aramis, his shoulder is probably hurt, but he will survive. Athos? Concerned, he looked over to his Lieutenant who hadn't killed Rochefort as he had had the chance to.

Athos, I hope you are alright, you look tired, confused as if you can't believe what's going on. It's over. Thank God. It's finally over. D'Artagnan was right the time would come to stop him and today they have stopped him together. As brothers … taking good care of each other. I can't stay I need to take Vargas away but I am proud of them … of all of them.

As Vargas knelt down to talk to Rochefort Athos didn't listen. He was not interested what the dying man had to say. It didn't matter. His brothers mattered, the King and Queen. Athos waited until Vargas left with Captain Tréville. Constance rushed over to the Queen and both women left after Anne had ordered Aramis not to give the dead man any sign of dignity and allow him to close his eyes.

Now the four brothers were standing alone with Rochefort's dead body in the room.

"Are you alright, Aramis?" Athos asked, while Porthos rushed over to his friend and pulled him in his well-known bear hug.

"I think I will be, when I get enough air. Porthos let me lose, will you, please." Aramis gasped for air.

"I am so happy that you are alright. You are alright?" Porthos made several steps backwards from his friend and looked at Aramis, who was holding his right arm with his left hand.

"It will need some stitching, but I'll live." Aramis tried to smile, but he failed. The whole tension from the last hours felt like a heavy weight on his shoulders and the words that Rochefort had thrown at him earlier that he was responsible for the death of Adele and now Marguerite had hit him hard.

It's over. I … I can't stay with them … they all survived … they will be fine, but I need to go … I can't endanger them any longer: Anne, my son, Athos, Porthos, d'Artagnan, even Tréville. Thank you. They are all safe. My arm hurts … but I will live and they live. I am in your debt. I have ignored your call much too long. Here I am and I will follow you. It breaks my heart, but it's time for me to fulfill my vow just as d'Artagnan did. They never told me, but I knew, I knew that our young Gascon would bring this end to Rochefort.

Aramis glanced over to Athos. His brother looked so lost, he really wanted to go over to him, but in this moment he felt Porthos' strong palm on his back and a soft warm breath whispering in his ear, that they should go away. Leave this place of death. Out of his eye he could see that d'Artagnan already hurried over to Athos and he knew that his brother was in good hands.

Athos felt d'Artagnan suddenly next to him. The young man laid his left arm around his shoulders and then whispered in his ear. Athos leaned into him, his strength leaving his body alongside with the tension which had kept him steady during the whole fight. He was a little astonished to suddenly feel so weak, but the fight had been an ordeal both physically and even more emotionally. Seeing Rochefort dead at his feet was like seeing the past lying there. By killing him, they had buried a past which had haunted him since that day he had been whipped by Rochefort and which had returned in a new intensity after he had collapsed in the courtyard after the sword fight with d'Artagnan when poison ran through his blood.

Then realisation hit him: fighting against this Satan had drained the rest of his energy and he swayed dangerously. The firm grip of d'Artagnan around his shoulder kept him steady and stopped him from collapsing.

"I told you that I would stop him. Come let's go. No need to stay any longer. It's finally over." D'Artagnan pulled his arm away as he felt that Athos had a firm stand again.

But Athos needed longer than d'Artagnan to realise that it was finally over. He listened to the words of his brother, but the understanding of them and the whole situation had reached his mind but not his soul yet. He felt numb and lost.

Athos turned to him and for a short moment d'Artagnan could see something glistening in his eyes. Athos didn't say a word, but he needn't, he knew Athos' expression well enough.

"Let's leave this place of death and terror." Porthos boomed with his loud voice behind them.

The gentle gesture between d'Artagnan and Athos hadn't gone unnoticed by Porthos and Aramis, but neither asked what was happening. Now was not the time and they knew d'Artagnan would tell them sooner or later.

While Porthos was guiding the injured Aramis out of the room, Athos followed after d'Artagnan. At the threshold of the door Athos paused and turned his head around. Slowly he took some steps back towards the dead corpse of Rochefort, but in the middle of the room he stopped. He didn't want to go nearer than that to the man who had tried to kill him, and was now dead himself. He observed his surroundings to convince himself that it was really true, he was finally safe now.

Rochefort's dead body was still resting where he had died. No page had dared to touch him yet.

It's over Athos … with him gone it's finally over. You were lucky to survive … the poor doctor … he saved my life only to be murdered by the hand of this monster. The Queen is right Rochefort didn't deserve any honour, any notice in the history books. It's ridiculous that he really thought that the Queen had fallen in love with him … Rochefort you were caught in your own past and you didn't realise that the past has nothing to do with the present or future …

Athos sighed out loud.

With him dead I can finally leave my own past behind me …

When d'Artagnan noticed that Athos had stopped he returned to his mentor. Contrary to most times his face was readable to him, his eyes wide open, fighting obviously with his emotions. The green colour of his eyes looked more blue grey, while he tried to fight with tears which were welling up due to the fact that his nemesis was finally dead and he and his friends were all safe.

Athos, please, don't. You have already shed too many tears. I can accept tears of joy, tears of relief, but I know that these tears are more bitter. Erase the past, don't think about what you should or could have done. It's over and I am proud of you and so happy. I wish I could express it, I wish you could express it.

"Come!" D'Artagnan's voice sounded more authoritarian.

Athos had heard him only once before speaking in this commanding tone, in the Sainte-Chapelle as he was at his lowest and d'Artagnan simply was there for him. He felt D'Artagnan's hand on his back, pushing him softly forwards and Athos thought:

One day you will be the greatest of us all and I am grateful to call you my brother and friend. Thank you.

One look between them both was enough for the younger man to understand perfectly what his big brother thought but couldn't express, because he knew that his voice would betray him. Athos felt that d'Artagnan's hand wandered up his back, landed on his right shoulder and the young man softly pulled him nearer to him so that for a second their heads softly touched. Then d'Artagnan allowed more space again because he knew that Athos needed the distance.

"I promised you, my brother." With a sideway glance he smiled at Athos, waited for a moment until the greenish eyes met his brownish and then he quickened his pace so that they could catch up with their brothers.

"Thank you, my brother!" Athos whispered and fell into the fast step of his young protegé, warmth and peace filling his heart.

The End.

I wish you all a Happy New Year 2018!

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