A/N: Welcome back! We're straight into the action and we meet someone brand new who I've hinted at before. Please read, review and enjoy Love and Betrayal!

Edited: 5/04/19

The Return

Sprawling green fields laid in a comfortable summer silence. Amongst the long blades of grass crickets chirped away in the humid air. Several midgets flew around the air, hovering just above the blades of grass. The sun hung high in the air, it's fierce rays landing on the forest floor as dappled light. The silence was broken, however, by five riders and their horses crashing through the undergrowth and out onto the open field in front of them. They rode in a line across the field, galloping along at a rather brisk pace.

Athos was on the left of the row, his cloak tied around him out the way. Porthos was on Athos' left, his cloak had been flipped over his shoulder out the way but it had begun to fall down as he rode. Aramis was next in the row; his cloak hanging down freely as his hat bounced on top of his head. D'Artagnan was wearing the same cloak as the others but had yet to buy himself a hat. His cloak was loosely tied around his shoulders and the strips of material hung down by his legs.

Ellie was the last rider in the line. Her hair had been trimmed back slightly by Constance and she was wearing a new jacket - her last one got destroyed during a fight with a group of bandits - and it hung loosely underneath her blue cloak. As well as the jacket, Ellie had also gotten a simple, gold ring from her brothers. It that had their initials engraved on it and Ellie had refused to take it off ever since she got it.

Needless to say, she'd changed an awful lot over the past year. She'd become more mature and attended court more often than before. Treville had come to rely on her for rumours and gossip from the court that might prove of importance in the future. Ellie had also become a better Musketeer. She'd decided to train harder and exercise herself more than she'd been doing before. Her sword-fighting had improved hugely since she'd devoted herself to training and her shooting had improved so much that she was almost as good as Athos. She was yet to be as good as Aramis.

As their horses began to time they halted, dismounting from their horses to give them a rest from the flat-out riding they'd been doing for several hours. Ellie huffed as she nearly tripped over her cloak, dramatically flipping it over her shoulder, forcing a sniggering Aramis to duck out of the way.

"And we've no idea who this man is?" D'Artagnan asked as they slowly strolled through the fields with their horses.

"The Captain doesn't know his identity," Porthos replied tiredly, his eyes crinkling in amusement as Ellie growled at her cloak as it slid off her shoulders.

"So, neither do we," Ellie finished as she re-positioned her cloak.

'All I know is we're to meet him in the village inn at noon. He'll make himself known." Athos added as D'Artagnan took a drink from his canteen. He glanced at Ellie, debating whether or not to flick some at her.

"Don't even think about it," She told him, glaring at him. D'Artagnan smirked, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"About what?" Porthos asked, looking between the two, ready to move out the way in case one of them attacked the other.

"Nothing," they both replied, the picture of innocence as D'Artagnan put his canteen away.

"Why the mystery?" Aramis asked looking at Athos as he ignored the two children behind him.

"The King's council has been in chaos since the Cardinal died. No one knows who's in charge." Athos sighed, "Louis is evidently struggling to trust anyone."

"Ah, well, at least we're not in Paris pretending to grieve for him," Porthos said with a hint of a smirk on his face.

"They say he wore out his heart in the service of France." Athos added, his lips lifting into a small smile.

"It's a pleasant surprise to hear he had one at all." D'Artagnan shot back, hiding his laughter.

"He's probably pissing people off from beyond the grave now," Ellie sighed sadly, smiling smugly when Porthos and D'Artagnan roared with laughter.

"God have mercy on his soul." He prayed as they walked. Ellie halted, staring at her brother as he looked to the sky. "What?" Aramis asked, looking at his siblings as they stared at him in disbelief. "He's dead. We can afford to be generous."

"Yet he was never generous to us." Ellie reminded him as they resumed their walk.

"Yer gonna swing!"

Ellie looked up at Aramis, surprised at how offended he was at her comment.

"That wasn't me," Aramis replied quickly, raising his hands in surrender. Ellie looked to the hill they were approaching and saw a party of just over a dozen men walking up the hill. In front of them were two men who were bound by ropes with old sacks over their heads, presumably acting as blindfolds. As they watched, the two men refused to walk any further, falling to their knees in the grass. The men walking behind them were having none of it and shoved them to their feet, marching them towards two nooses hanging from an oak tree.

Athos was the first to react, flinging his reins over his saddle horn and mounting his horse all within the same minute. Ellie quickly followed, throwing her cloak over her shoulders as she urged her horse into a canter. It was only as they approached the top of the hill, that the men stopped, realising that they were being watched. The men that were tied up were being guarded by two other men and Ellie assumed they belonged to the village they'd just passed. Ellie dismounted, tying her horse to a low branch as D'artagnan walked up to the villagers.

"Who are these men and what have they done?" D'Artagnan asked as the stopped in front of the villagers. Ellie walked up behind him, the wind blowing her hair in front of her face as she stood there.

"None of your damn business." The leader growled, his grip firm on the arm of one of the prisoners.

"We are King's Musketeers." Athos informed him as he joined them on the hill, arms crossed.

"Including her?" The leader asked, causing the four men to inch closer to Ellie, their hands moving towards the hilt of their swords.

"This? Again?" Ellie asked despairingly. She sighed. "Yes, including me. It's nothing new, all women can hold a sword and kill people."

"So, answer the question," Porthos told the leader, the usual spark in his eye gone. "Politely." He added.

"They shot our inn-keeper in cold blood," The leader answered after a moment. "A good man is dead and there were a dozen witnesses." A low grumble rippled through the waiting crowd and Ellie could feel their discontent.

"There will be no lynching today," Aramis said, raising his voice as he addressed the unhappy mob.

"Now, if there's a case against them, you can take it to the magistrate." D'Artagnan finished, the speech sounding as if they'd practised it a hundred times before. Which they had, much to Ellie's anger as it caused her to lose a night of sleep.

"Take off their hoods and untie them," Athos demanded, his voice dangerously calm. The leader stared at them for a moment, his eyes lingering on Ellie a tad moment longer than the rest of them. Ellie refused to melt under the stare, her eyes locking onto his as he stared. Realising he'd been caught ogling, he turned to the two men holding the criminals and nodded. One of the men reached up and pulled the hood off of the first man, causing Athos, Porthos, Aramis and Ellie to look at each other in disbelief.

"You've got to be joking," Ellie said, far louder than intended, as she stared at Rochefort. Rochefort, with his overgrown hair and cold, dead eyes, was standing in front of her.

"Rochefort," Athos addressed formally, attempting to show some respect to the man in front of them.

"Musketeers," Rochefort spat. "Just when I thought my day couldn't get any worse." He sighed, turning to face the leader of the mob. "And him." He nodded to the other man who that was still bound. The leader growled, reluctantly nodding towards the men holding Rochefort's companion. One of them reached up and pulling the sack off. Ellie's eyes widened and her hand gripped D'Artagnan's wrist tightly as she stared at the man in front of him. D'Artagnan, along with the rest of the Musketeers, glanced at Ellie worriedly as she stared.

"Liam?!" She shrieked, her voice higher than intended. Her eyes furrowed in confusion as Liam stared back at her. He looked the same as he'd always looked. Hazel eyes with a small mole in the corner of his left eye, freckles that dusted his nose, cheeks and neck. Short brown hair that looked good no matter what he did to it. His shirt was open low down revealing his olive chest which was dotted with scars. His black jacket was open, hanging off one shoulder and his black leather pants were tucked into old, dusty boots. His lips curled into a half smile, his eyes flickering with delight.

"No need to seem so surprised, Lizzie," He replied giving her a small nod. He turned to the others, "Musketeers." Ellie growled, the urge to launch herself at her former friend and punch the living daylights out of him overwhelming her, D'Artagnan's hand on her arm the only thing stopping her.

"Now, now, Lizzie," Liam tutted, flicking his hair out of his eyes, "no need to add insult to injury."

"Oh, you are so dead," Ellie growled, shrugging off D'Artagnan's hand and stalking to the back of the group.