Disclaimer: I do not own Albert the Fifth Musketeer, or the characters. I also do not own the female in this fic as she is actually based off a real person.
Notes: Here is a new birthday fic for my friend bluefirevixon. I am so sorry that this is much later than expected! Writer's block can be very cruel at times...
This fic has been written with a change; I decided to try writing Albert's point of view this time around. Also, we don't know a lot about his family or his past in general, so what's written is headcanon with some assistance from the birthday girl.
This fic contains the romantic pairing of Albert x my friend, who for safety reasons will not have her name revealed in the story. Instead, Albert will address/refer to her as My Lady, Mon Amour (My Love) or Mon Cherie (My Dear). You have been informed.
As I ride back to the de Treville mansion, I'm smiling. It isn't because of a successful mission, though that does bring the satisfaction of a job well done. I had been granted time to spend with my fair lady as she was not required to stand by Her Majesty's side. We had spent some time in the palace gardens that were tended to by my old friend Andre le Notre; some moments of talking, some of shared, peaceful silence. We enjoyed each other's company, just as we had since we met. Before we had to part ways, I made a proposal.
Her birthday is fast approaching. Last year, we were unable to spend it together because of her duty as Her Majesty's bodyguard, so I gave her a gift that could be seen from afar in the form of a fireworks display. To my relief, she not only witnessed it, she was most pleased with my surprise in the sky. This year, I wish to make her birthday one to remember. I wish to have a romantic twilight picnic with her, where I not only plan to treat her like a princess, but give her a surprise she will not expect.
We have been courting for three years, and I've grown to love her more and more each day. I wish for us to spend the rest of our lives together. My plan is to propose marriage to her as the picnic winds to a close. I have already asked of Her Majesty and Captain de Treville if I shall be able to, and they granted their consent. They know that even if Mon Amour and I were to wed, it would not interfere with our duties; mine as one of the King's Musketeers, and hers of being the bodyguard in service to the Queen. I know this; no matter her response, I shall continue to love her.
I am now in my workshop; gazing at the portrait of her that sits atop my workbench and awaiting the arrival of her messenger duck. I did not tell her what I have planned, but I did ask if it was possible for us to have some time together to celebrate the anniversary of her birth. Because of her duty, she was unable to respond right away with an affirmative or negative. She did, however, say she would speak with Her Majesty and request a day of leave and then send me a letter to inform if it was possible or not. Thankfully, there tends to be days of peace following a mission in which we thwart the wicked schemes of Cardinal Richelieu and Milady de Winter, so there may be a chance she won't have to remain by Her Majesty's side until things start to stir once again.
The feathered fowl makes a graceful landing before me. It's untying the string around the note attached securely to its leg. It then took the note into its bill and presented it to me before flapping its wings and taking flight.
My heart is pounding in anticipation as I unfurl the note and read Mon Cherie's handwriting.
My gallant Albert, after seeking consent from Her Majesty, I can finally give you my response. As long as there is no sign of trouble leading to the day, I am granted a day of leave so that we may spend my birthday together. Her Majesty claims she has faith that all will be well.
Her name's scrawled on the bottom, and my heart swells. There's a chance for me to put my plan into action.
I rise to my feet and walk to my planning desk. I open the largest drawer and lift the lid of the box safely stored inside. With that, I set the letter inside before returning the lid atop the box and pushing the drawer closed. Ever since I realised just how much I love her, I have kept every letter she has sent. I am not at a point of obsession; I treasure everything she has sent my way and if my memory should one day begin to leave me, I have the physical reminders of every exchange we've made.
I'm gazing at her portrait once again. Her dark hair, twinkling eyes and gentle smile are among her best features that are visible to the human eye. What made me love her was much more than that; she is brave, strong, and above all, she has a kind, generous, loving heart. It didn't take long for us to form a friendship after we first met. As time passed, I realised I felt more than just camaraderie towards her. I had fallen in love. I was anxious to tell her the extent of my feelings, and may never have if it wasn't for the encouragement my friends and brother the Musketeers offered. If I hadn't said anything to her, I may never have found out that she felt the same way for me as I do for her.
I pick up the portrait and gently press my lips to it. "Je t'amour, Mon Cherie," I whisper. It had become a ritual to do this whenever I would begin work on an invention or mix up a new and improved batch of my ammunition.
I'm humming to myself as I move around my workshop. I not only have an idea for a new invention, I'm also considering what I shall do for our twilight picnic. Her favourite food and beverage must be on the menu, and I shall surprise her by playing a song.
It's common for those from noble families to learn how to play at least one musical instrument. Even though I was raised in a quiet village, my father is from a noble lineage; he and my mother - bless her soul - preferred the simple life and chose not to inform anybody else. I'd been raised without the knowledge of Papa's lineage until I'd decided I wished to follow in his footsteps and become a Musketeer. Between training and the usual lessons one goes through growing up, I'd also been tutored on how to play a musical instrument. By the luck of fate, that instrument is the one Mon Amour favours. She is unaware I play it, so I shall surprise her by serenading her with a song. I have not played for a long time, so I will have to practice. I only hope it hasn't been so long I've gotten rusty.
After-note: As mentioned earlier, Mon Amour means My Love, and Mon Cherie means My Dear. Mon is used as it is a male using the "my", while Cherie is written in the feminine spelling.
Je t'amour is a way of saying I love you, similar to je t'aime. However, the latter sounds more appropriate for friends and family while the former seems more suited for romantic love.