A/N: First off, one final thank you to all of my readers! All of you are fantastic and inspiring. And here we are, a tiny bit of fluff to finish it all. I toyed with expanding it/deepening the subject and then realised that it felt right just as it was. So without further ado…

Epilogue

The day had brightened as they rode away from the village. The sky clear and crisp but the sun warm on their backs. Even the horses seemed happy to be moving again. Athos shared the sentiment. It had been a full week since their horses had been kidnapped and Athos half expected to meet a search party sent by Treville coming the other way.

This time, the Duc's signet ring was sealed into an envelope and tucked safely into the breast of his coat. Athos was determined that it would not fall prey to more roadside-bandits.

He watched Porthos, d'Artagnan, and Aramis ride together ahead of him. The three of them side by side with d'Artagnan squeezed in the middle, his shoulder bandaged and his arm tight in a sling. Aramis sat atop his horse with the reins loose around its neck, one arm crossed beneath the elbow of the other as he tapped his chin, "Ah," he said, raising his finger, "Things that you wear that start with the letter 'B'."

"Britches," Porthos offered.

"Bodice," Aramis answered. He glanced at d'Artagnan to see if he'd caught the gist of the game.

"Aramis you don't wear those," Porthos said.

"Ah but I could."

"Yeah? Well, warn me before you do," he growled.

"Um, Boots," d'Artagnan said.

"Buttons," Porthos said.

"Bows," Aramis said.

"Beards?" d'Artagnan answered.

"Bruises."

"Brocade."

"Bandages," d'Artagnan answered, his tone turning serious as he eyed the sling that pinned his left arm to his chest.

"Bombs," Porthos grunted.

Aramis frowned, "Porthos you definitely can't wear those."

"If I tie 'em to my belt I'm wearin'em."

"Fine. Belt."

"Buckles," d'Artagnan continued.

Porthos chuckled, "Belt Buckles."

Aramis rolled his eyes, "Bandolier."

"Buff coat," d'Artagnan suggested.

Aramis and Porthos paused to stare at their younger counterpart in appreciation.

"A Brace of pistols," Porthos added.

"Hey now," Aramis said, "that's hardly legal!"

"You're wearin'em aren't you? Besides, you were gonna wear a bodice."

Aramis leveled him with a glare, "Brooch."

D'Artagnan frowned in thought, then his expression cleared, "Tinder… Box."

Porthos grinned, "That's the spirit!"

Aramis groaned.

Athos couldn't keep the chuckle to himself and it built to a laugh as all three musketeers turned as one to glare at him. In that moment, he felt a weight lift off his chest and he realised how happy he was that he was counted as a friend to the three men riding before him.

...

.fin.