Good afternoon, all.

So here it is, the end of the story that has been so many months in the making. You might even find out what has happened to Athos' stitches! (lol) Thank you for coming along on this journey with me. I have loved hearing from you and hope that we might keep on touch via PM. I know I shall miss doing the daily updates for a while.

I promise that I will be back and, as I said the other day, the next story will be called 'Reliquary' (got to keep that 'R' stable going!) It's another season 1 story and I am thinking that, as this was before S1E3, 'Reliquary' will probably come shortly after the episode.

What will it be about? Well, I can promise another adventure (as Aramis says towards the end here) and probably another convoluted plot!

A precious reliquary holding a Norman saint's bones is to be returned from England to France and Louis wants it to be brought to Paris so that he can see the bones first before they are finally taken to the place of the Saint's birth. Our intrepid heroes are sent to collect/escort the reliquary. Sounds straightforward so what could possibly go wrong?

Is everything as it seems for a start? Throw into the mix some historic misdeeds surrounding the reliquary itself and at least one new 'baddy'.

Remember, also, that Athos has upset the Cardinal in 'Revenge' and who knows? Grenouille might put in appearance, Claude is still there and, unfortunately, so is Delacroix. Will any or all of them make an entrance?

And the long suffering Captain Treville will be attempting to keep everything under control.

So, until the next time (I don't know when as I have to crack on with some other projects but I'll try not to be 'silent' for too long), look after yourselves and stay safe.

And a huge 'thank you' once again to all who have read, commented upon, followed and 'favourited' this story. Your support makes it all worth while.

EPILOGUE

Two weeks after the battle of Versailles – so named by the Musketeers and Red Guard – two riders walked their horses along a road and came to a stop.

Aramis sat in silence as he let his friend study the large, open gates set in a high wall that surrounded the religious enclave.

"Do you remember anything?" he asked gently.

Athos sighed and hung his head. "No, nothing." He sounded disappointed. "I had hoped that returning here might have had some familiarity."

Aramis reached across and cupped the bent neck in his hand.

"Don't worry. It's understandable. When your horse brought you here, you were in no fit state to remember anything and you were no better when we left. Perhaps a memory will stir once we are inside. Come."

He urged his mount to walk on through the gates into the yard beyond and, after some hesitation, Athos followed.

"Aramis! Aramis!" a voice cried out in greeting and, from a doorway, an elderly man in a robe came hurrying as quickly as he could.

"Hello, Theodore," Aramis said, dismounting and grasping the outstretched hands in his.

The man looked past him to where Athos slipped gracefully from his saddle and stood awkwardly watching as three more men appeared from different directions.

"And this," said the one called Theodore, tears of joy streaming down his cheeks. "This is Athos?" He moved past Aramis and reached for the other Musketeer, who had frozen, his eyes wary for there was nothing familiar in the buildings around him or any of the men.

"You are completely recovered now?" the man asked.

Athos nodded, "Completely."

With a cry, Theodore threw his arms around Athos, who was decidedly uncomfortable at such a tactile display from someone who, to him, was a total stranger. He stood, arms held out from his body and not reciprocating as his green eyes implored his brother for help.

Aramis touched the old man's shoulder. "Theodore, Athos has little or no memory of his time here."

Begging forgiveness at his emotional outburst, Theodore released the younger man and stepped back.

"Athos, you've met Theodore." Aramis indicated the lay brothers in turn as he introduced them. "This is Anselm, Robert and Bartholomew. Gentlemen, this is Athos, your patient."

"Come, have some refreshments and we can talk," Anselm said, turning to lead the way into the main building.

Robert moved forward to take the reins of the soldiers' horses.

"Wait a minute," Aramis ordered as he and Athos went to their animals and untied two full sacks from each saddle before they followed the lay brothers inside.

A little while later, the six men were seated down two sides of a long trestle table in the refectory, watered ale and a simple fare set in front of them.

"It is good to see that our prayers have been answered and that you are well again," Bartholomew said stiffly. "I owe you an apology for the way we were treating you. Much of what was done to you was at my instigation. We only wanted to help but instead we made things far worse."

"We would understand it if you hated us," Robert cut in.

"If he felt so strongly, then why is he here with Aramis?" Bartholomew insisted.

"I do not hold it against you," Athos responded as he sought to reassure them. "I know that you were trying to do your best with little experience and limited medicines. Aramis said you were following the written instructions of one of the former monks here."

"Yes, but his methods were outdated as we learned with you. Our actions could have cost you your life," Theodore was not to be eased in his distress.

There was a hint of a smile. "But they did not, as you can see. I am here."

"Do you remember anything at all of being here?" Theodore wanted to know.

Athos thought about his answer. "As Aramis told you earlier, I remember little of what passed here. I have only a few snatches of recollections."

He was not about to add to their apparent guilt by admitting that those same fractured memories were unpleasant.

"So, apart from letting you see that Athos is alive and well, we have another purpose for being here," Aramis said, clearing the table directly in front of him and depositing one of the sacks on it.

"We have brought some things for you," he went on, opening the sack to bring out some bottles and packets. "I have prepared draughts, lotions and ointments here to restock your shelves."

The lay brothers were overwhelmed by the gesture, excitedly reaching for some of the bottles and all speaking simultaneously, such was their gratitude.

"And Athos copied my notes on how to make more, treat ailments and, more importantly, the strength and frequency of doses. He has a very legible hand."

Now the four men were speechless, looking from one to the other of the Musketeers as if in disbelief.

"You have done that for us?" Theodore was incredulous.

Aramis grinned. "And I know we are imposing ourselves upon you but we're hoping you can find beds for us tonight. Our Captain has spared us for two days to talk you through everything. We need to be back in Paris tomorrow evening."

The lay brothers were beside themselves, clapping hands with glee and chattering excitedly.

"It is no imposition at all; we welcome you. Of course we have beds for you," Anselm told them. "It is the least we can do for your generosity to us."

"Then I will leave you to explore the contents of the other sacks," Aramis said, casting a sideways glance at his brother. "By your leave, I would like to take Athos for a quiet walk to see if anything stirs his memory."

Minutes later, the two soldiers were in the empty infirmary. Aramis stood, arms folded across his chest and worried eyes focused on Athos who was slowly walking the length and breadth of the room.

Eventually he shook his head. "Nothing."

Aramis pointed to one of the beds to his right. "That's where we laid you to look after you; we hung sheets around it to give you some privacy as there were other patients in here then." He gestured towards the far end of the infirmary. "We moved them all down there."

Athos focused on the door along one wall and looked questioningly at Aramis who nodded, his dark eyes marred with concern.

The difficult conversation between them had happened at Versailles as Aramis was removing the stitches and they were alone. In the early days of Athos' recovery, the marksman had been careful to speak very generally about finding him with the lay brothers, acknowledging only that he had lost too much blood, his wound was seriously infected and that there had been some worrying incompetence in his treatment and medication.

Athos had looked down on the tousled head as Aramis knelt at his side and gently worked on the stitches.

"Tell me about when you found me."

Aramis paused in his work but did not look up. "I have already told you."

"You told me what you thought I should know," Athos said. "Now, I am ready to have you tell me the rest."

"How much do you remember now?" Aramis asked, knowing that the memories had gradually been returning and that something must have initiated the request.

"Just unrelated fragments. I cannot tell the difference between reality or hallucination for much of it. I am aware of an overwhelming white-hot agony and …" he paused, "I remember brief moments of utter misery; of my cramping bowel and stomach."

Aramis sighed and sat back on his heels. "Let me finish this first. Then I will get us some wine and I promise I will tell you everything."

And so he told him.

Now, Athos stood just inside the door to the 'dying room'.

"So this is it?" he said quietly.

"This is it," Aramis confirmed, standing shoulder to shoulder with him. There was no need to say that this was where Athos had come so close to breathing his last.

"Thank you again," Athos said suddenly. "for saving my life," he added.

"You've already thanked me, several times," Aramis said softly.

"It does not hurt to say it again. If not for you and the Captain, I would not be here right now."

"But you are here, just as you said to Theodore and his friends, and I have said many a grateful prayer for that," Aramis said, and then, all seriousness gone, he grinned broadly. "I could ask you not to do anything like it again but, given the associated risks of our chosen occupation, I know that I am asking the impossible."

"Perhaps I could try to keep out of trouble for a few days," Athos offered, straight-faced.

"I would settle for that," Aramis agreed. "Until our next adventure, that is. Come, we had better get back to the others so that I can begin their instruction."

Athos followed but hesitated in the doorway, surveying the room one last time. His lips twitched in thinly veiled amusement.

"There is just one thing, Aramis. I hope those beds for us tonight are anywhere except in this infirmary and the dying room!"