Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Author's Note: Story follows the 2002 movie "The Count of Monte Cristo."
- Little Love -
Mercedes stared out the window, tears slowly streaming down her face. She was crying not because she was sad or because she was upset. She was crying in joy. Pressed her hands against her stomach, he was with child, Edmond's child. He may be gone, but he would live on through his child.
Boy or girl, Mercedes didn't care. This child was his, and she knew that it would look like him and be like him in so many ways Mercedes watched out the window as Fernand got out of his carriage. Even if he was to be raised by Mondego.
The thought struck her so suddenly in scared her, but she knew what must be done. If Edmond was here, they'd get married. But he's not here, Mercedes thought. He'd been gone barely a month, dead barely a month and here she was talking about marrying his best friend, a man she despised.
She disliked Fernand almost as much as she disliked Villefort. No, that wasn't fair, she argued. If she was going to marry Fernand she must learn to accept him and his flaws, for the sake of her child, of Edmond's child. She closed her eyes and sucked in a deep breath. She needed to do this, she could not, no she would not allow her child to be called a bastard. Her child would be the son of a nobleman.
She slowly opened her eyes and stared at the tree branches rustling in the light wind. Edmond Dantes would always be far more noble than Fernand Mondego in body, blood, and spirit. To the people of France, however, Fernand was more noble than Edmond because he had money.
Her love for Edmond would never die, and through this child, their love would carry on. This child was a creation of that love. Her little child, her little love. She turned to face the doorway, Fernand would be up any moment she knew. She lightly rubbed her hands over her stomach. Her child. Hers and Edmonds.
THE END