A/N - I apologise for the wait. Alas I was without laptop and internet whilst I was away on holiday, but I'm back now! More notes at the end.

Mazcotmaker - Thank you for the lovely comments, I've always thought Athos needed a protective older sibling, he's going to regret having her gossip with the musketeers though!

Book girl fan - I'm glad you're finding Marie's character interesting. Hopefully she'll get more so. Yes, Athos would have to be presumed dead for her to inherit and even then it would be tricky, but I'll address this later in the story. For now, I hope you enjoy!

Constance was, thankfully, used to dealing with the hair-brained plans of the musketeers and so when d'Artagnan ran into her in the market and explained that they urgently needed to borrow a dress Constance did not bother asking.

Now, as she put the final touches to the woman's appearance she couldn't help but wonder what her business had been to be dressed as she was in breeches. Introduced only as Marie and informed that she had to pass for a noblewoman Constance had initially decided her work was cut out but happily Marie seemed to know how to work her hair into intricate patterns and hold her posture. The rest was window-dressing.

"Is Marie ready?" d'Artagnan asked from outside the door, tactfully not walking in as he nearly had ten minutes ago to receive a firm dressing down from Constance about entering without invitation.

"As she'll ever be." Constance replied as she gave Marie a once-over, she could pass an inspection from a distance, it was the best she could do at short notice.

"Olivier?" Marie suddenly asked, leaving Constance confused, she knew of no-one with that name in the musketeers.

"Aramis has reluctantly declared him fit to ride. We can leave as soon as you are ready." d'Artagnan confirmed finally poking his head around and door and doing a double-take.

Surely the woman stood in front of the window was not the same one who had taken Athos hostage? It seemed Marie had not easily forgotten her noble past and all d'Artagnan could think was that the Comtess de la Fère was stood in front of him, back straight, hair prim and a regal glare upon her face that made him feel like he should bow.

"Good," the woman masquerading as Marie declared, all traces of roughness in her voice gone, "the sooner we get to la Fère the better. I have no desire to face trial anytime soon."

By the time the four had left Paris, Athos's glare burning a hole in the back of Aramis's head for the sling his arm now rested in, d'Artagnan was glad they had decided to disguise Marie. They had certainly attracted their fair share of attention and as soon as they were out of sight of searching eyes Marie shifted from the uncomfortable side-saddle until she was sat as the men were, her glares, so similar to Athos's, daring them to protest.

It was two day's ride to la Fère, the lands were not that far from Paris and initially it seemed that they were to be two days of gloomy silence. The musketeers were on edge and Marie seemed content to remain silent, which was causing Athos much concern.

They stopped for lunch by a small river in a glade of trees and finally the uncomfortable silence was broken.

"Who taught you to shoot brother?" Marie had finally given in and broken the unspoken truce between the la Fère siblings. Athos, surprised by the sudden question answered promptly, keen to rekindle their relationship.

"Father did, although it quickly became obvious that I was a better swordsman than marksman." Marie smirked.

"Now that I can believe, you were certainly better than I."

"It's was a shame, I lost so many delicious puddings to you."

Now that the conversation had started the pair naturally fell back into their familiar sparring, for a moment they could almost believe they were back in the garden or the library of their château carefree and young. Athos could once again hear his sister in the woman that had seemed so much a stranger to him.

"Do you remember Thomas's face when you first beat me?"

"It was a glorious day." Athos teased, a grin beginning to form on his face, it made him look so much younger.

"Father thought he could get away with not teaching me after that."

"We certainly proved him wrong."

"Well, what would you have done without your favourite sparring partner?"

"I wouldn't have said favourite." Marie chuckled and Athos's grin widened. He had forgotten what true happiness felt like, to tease without fear of repercussions, to be with someone who knew you so well that nothing else mattered.

Abruptly his thoughts turned darker as Milady's ghost came to mind and Marie immediately noticed.

"Olivier?" Worried she knelt forward and rested a hand upon his shoulder.

"Old troubles, nothing for you to be concerned about."

"Tell me." Athos shook his head and turned away.

"You seem to be in no hurry to divulge your secrets, forgive me if I wish to keep mine." He didn't need to be facing his sister to see the hurt on her face, or the shadow of fear.

"Fine, I won't press." Bitterness tinged her voice, but understanding too and Athos couldn't help but feel slightly guilty for snapping.

"Sorry, I had forgotten what it felt like to have a sister." Athos tried a weak smile and it seemed to convince her, at least for now.

"Then I shall have to keep reminding you, you look so much more handsome when you are smiling." The teasing grin had returned to his sister's face and he once again felt his heart lighten in response.

"I'm sure d'Artagnan will be grateful." Marie snorted unwomanly with laughter.

"I had no idea your tastes spread that way."

Across the camp the other three musketeers watched as the joking conversation turned into a mock fight between brother and sister and it seemed Marie's competence had caught the now pinned Athos off guard, though both were laughing.

"Shall we go and break up the children?" Aramis asked, finishing off the fish he had diligently caught and cooked.

"Nah," Porthos replied, watching them with a smile, "let them play a little longer. Athos doesn't get much joy in his life these days."

A couple of minutes of tussling later they finally gave up and returned, arm in arm to the men gathered around the fire, both wearing identical grins.

"Are we ready to leave gentlemen?" Marie asked as she gave Athos a playful shove.

"As long as you two are finished fighting," Porthos replied with a grin, "I'd hate to have to break up a tussle on the ride."

"You have my solemn word." Marie replied, laying one hand over her heart and ruffling a sputtering Athos's with the other, "I'll keep my little brother in check."

Mounting up the five rode on into the sunset, bickering and laughing the whole way. It was only late at night, with Athos sound asleep and Marie absently sharpening a twig with her knife that the musketeer on watch addressed something that had been worrying him.

"I lived in the Court of Miracles." Porthos unexpectedly spoke up, having considered how best to approach the topic. Marie turned in surprise to the musketeer on watch. "I grew up a thief and a liar." Marie raised an eyebrow interested, "your brother gave me a second chance. He saw the good in me that I couldn't see myself. I owe him everything."

"Olivier was always the forgiving type." Maris dismissed with a shrug but sensing Porthos meant something else, "Your point being?"

"What are you so afraid to tell him?" Marie froze, her eyes flitting over to the three slumbering musketeers, as though to check that they weren't listening in.

"Many things." Porthos recognised the deliberate avoidance of the question, it was something that he had made a habit of in his earliest days as a trainee musketeer.

"I know what it's like and I swear I won't say a word to the others, but I think you need to get this off your chest." Marie paused again, considering him.

"I thought there was no honour amongst thieves."

"What about amongst gentlemen? Where have you been for twenty years?" A sigh, Marie once again checked the others for signs of consciousness, finding none she turned her attention back to her twig.

"At sea mainly."

"I thought sailors thought having women on board ships was bad luck."

"Most do, but not all."

"What sort of ship, traders? Privateers?"

"For a while." Marie admitted.

"And then?"

"We lost the King's protection." Porthos hesitated, sensing the enormity of what she was admitting to.

"Piracy?"

"Yes," Marie hesitated, "please don't tell Olivier."

"I gave my word, what you said here tonight remains between us." Marie nodded and turned her face away, shame across her features.

"I pray Porthos, do not judge me too badly. We will do many things have all other options have fled." Porthos could think of no appropriate reply.

An uncomfortable silence persisted for the rest of Porthos's watch.

Extra A/N - There were a large number of corsairs, or French privateers authorised to conduct raids on ships of nations at war with France, on behalf of the King. It was basically legal piracy. They were not made up of Navy officers and carried a Letter of Marque that made them legitimate combatants in France. Although superstitions around women on ships usually prevented them working, there were a couple of instances of female pirates in this period including Mary Read and Anne Bonny, but they had to prove their worth to the crew.