My greetings to you, who stumbled here and decided to take a peek at this fanfic! Finally after a long, long time, this story was born. I've always been a big fan of The Conde de Monte Cristo; I saw several movies, read the original books by Alexandre Dumas and even watched the anime that was made, but among all these versions, the one that I like the most is the film made in 2002, starring Jim Caviezel and Henry Cavill as Edmond Dantès and Albert Mondego respectively.
There are several reasons that make this title one of my favorite movies of all time, but talking about just three of them, I could say that in this version Edmond managed to recover his life and his family back, reaching a full circle; secondly, in this version Albert is actually Edmond's blood son; and thirdly, a little more personally, every time I see Edmond and Albert together on stage they strongly remind me of two characters who are father and son of a book I'm writing that I hope to publish one day, and for a writer this it's purely amazing!
But going back to this fanfic, whenever I watched this movie I told myself that one day I would write a story that portrayed Albert's change of view towards Edmond from 'friend' to 'father', something that is implicit in the film between the scene at the end of Edmond and Fernand's confrontation and Edmond's reflections in the Chateau D'if three months later, as it is clear that both are very close and that Albert already fully recognizes Edmond as his father at the end of the movie. This fanfic, my friends, is just that; a humble complement on my part to this title which in my opinion is a real work of art.
So, for those who found this little gem after so many years of the movie's release and want to read it to remember the story, I want to thank you for reading and I hope you like it!
My Friend, my Father
"Albert Mondego: May I ask who you are, sir?
Edmond Dantès: For the present, your friend. Tomorrow, your host. For the short time formality stands between us, the Count of Monte Cristo."
†
Albert felt his body freeze completely with fear; a fear so deep and real that his heart stopped in the exact instant he realized he was going to die.
He was the last barrier standing between the overwhelming and mighty storm ahead of him and the conclusion of its long-awaited revenge; he was just a sixteen-year-old young man who had suddenly been thrown into a world of chaos built by pillars he didn't understand. His very being had burned with the flames of deception and betrayal and in his hands he had wielded the sword to defend what he believed in, but so suddenly his weapon and his resolve were broken apart and now... the only certainty he had is that he was going to die.
Albert looked into the eyes of the man he believed to be his friend, the man who had his full admiration, and in them he found death clothed by a force impossible to fight or stop; a will that surpassed human limits and that was greater than him or anything else that existed; nothing would stop him until he finished what he started. The blade of the sword flashed against the light and the weapon tore through the air with a speed and precision that human eyes could barely follow and it flew towards him. Instinctively Albert closed his eyes and waited for the lacerating pain that would soon explode in his chest; his body didn't react, no longer obeyed him, and his fear was so palpable that he wore it entirely as if it were his own skin.
Suddenly a cry of horror and despair echoed among them and the young man immediately recognized his mother's voice, and opening his eyes, Albert saw that the woman with just her presence had managed to stop that storm when no one else could have the power to do so. A wave of cold and heat ran through his body and his heart leapt into his mouth, he stared at the sword that had stopped a few millimeters from his chest and saw it slowly retreat. The Count of Monte Cristo looked at his mother and petrified, even more confused, the young man saw him completely lower his guard and the deadly and feral countenance that had been on his face disappeared when his eyes and his mother's met, and the man once again resembled the friend he had known for the past few months.
A silent conversation took place between both adults and there was complicity; then his mother approached him.
"Albert…" Her gentle voice called to him. "I found the note you left explaining where you'd gone... But now I must explain something to you... Where you really come from."
He looked at her in confusion as she revealed the truth to him.
"Albert, you are the son of Edmond Dantès... The man you know as the Count of Monte Cristo..."
Albert looked up; his wide eyes met his friend's, so filled with a stunned deep surprise that he himself felt inside. Only then, in that instant, did the young man realize that the man's blue-green irises were exactly like his own.
...
The sixteen-year-old was standing in front of a large glass window, watching from the second floor of the gigantic building the vast, impeccably tended garden, which exhibited plants from countless parts of the world and which at that moment boasted flowers of various colors; it was mid-afternoon and the sky was partially clouded by dark clouds that threatened a nearby rain.
They reflected the storm that had formed in his mind.
Everything he knew, his life and his own world seemed to shatter into a thousand pieces and he couldn't understand anything anymore. Despite a gigantic numbness descending on him, leaving him lethargic, he still felt slight tremors run through his hands and arms from the partial shock that had enveloped him. His conscious mind was still trying to process everything that had happened at the same time his concern for his mother's current state of health ended up taking the last bit of solid ground from his feet. He had barely been able to register the carriage ride that brought them to the house where the Count of Monte Cristo was living, nor had he noticed the passage of the following hours while she was under the care of the doctors.
His head was a mess and his heart heavy with shadows and grief.
He was so immersed in his own turbulent thoughts that he almost didn't hear the door gently open and a second person enter the place. The young man looked up and shifted his attention from the window back to the reading room; the scenario that had several shelves, side tables and sofas scattered around and landscape paintings hanging in various places; the environment was partially covered by shadows with the chandeliers still unlit, but still he could easily recognize the newcomer's face.
The Count of Monte Cristo... Edmond, his mother had revealed his name to him, remained motionless by the door and watched him back with a clearly uncertainty, and Albert in his turn also felt how embarrassing the present situation was for both of them.
That was the first time he had been alone with the man since they had arrived, and so much had happened... He didn't know what to think or what to say, they had briefly fought each other and he had almost been killed by him; he thought of him as his friend and admired him in so many ways despite having known him in such a short time... He realized that he didn't know anything about that man, about his past, his history with his mother and his motivations. Life so far has allowed him to know only his name... and that he was his real father.
Father... that was a very strong word for him...
He had learned early on what it meant, associating it with Fernand Mondego and the role he had played in his life since he was born. He had been taught and got used to it, to look at Fernand and see his father, a man who was little present at home and preferred to be immersed in his business and travels around France, not that his mother seemed to be sad for the lonely days she had spent at home with her son and the servants, and perhaps now he could understand her better. He couldn't remember times in his childhood when Fernand had played with him as he'd seen his friends' parents play with them, and they'd rarely gone out riding together; he had wanted him to teach him the sword and other things as well, but Fernand had always delegated teachers to take over his tutelage and aways drifted away into his business world.
Still, despite everything, Fernand Mondego was his father.
But now... after what his mother had revealed to him and the cruel, cold, contempt-laden words that Fernand had said in return... Albert no longer knew what the word 'father' meant.
His wandering mind brought him back to the present where he was still frozen, staring at his host who was still standing in the doorway. Only then did he realize that out of politeness the Count was waiting for his permission to enter the room since he had interrupted his thoughts. The embarrassed young man nodded quickly and made an awkward gesture with his hand in invitation.
"Please come in, sir."
Edmond did so; the man walked slowly down the length of the hall, his footsteps echoing softly on the marble floor as he approached the teenager and he stopped at a relatively close distance, but which still gave the younger a respectful space of comfort.
Silence fell upon them; it wasn't exactly uncomfortable, but it couldn't be considered comfortable either. They were friends, but they weren't that close; time hadn't allowed their friendship to have been deepened to the point of become personal so that the sudden and unexpected revelation of their parentage could have been received with less impact as it had been. The savior-friendship-turned-enemies-turned-father-and-son relationship threw down what they both knew and, needing to restart their relationship at the very beginning, it was the man who took the initiative through the only solid bond in common that they knew and that still united them in the present.
"Your mother... Her operation went well and the doctors managed to remove the bullet that had lodged in her shoulder. Mercédès is resting now, but if you want to go see her..."
The Count's voice faded, leaving the decision of visitation open to the young man.
"Thank you…" Albert said and his voice trailed off as well; his sense of formality between them was fragmented and he no longer knew what to call the other man. He averted his face momentarily, and his gaze filled with doubt and uncertainty did not go unnoticed by the Count.
"Albert..." Edmond started to say; his tone was gentle, understandable and close, very different from the times he had spoke to him before. "I know this must be very difficult for you... We... We've never really talked before... Without any kind of pretense and formality. We both... walked very complicated paths that led to a series of misunderstandings and... I don't expect that overnight you can see me differently than you saw me earlier today."
The man let out a shaky, inaudible sigh, and Albert even knowing the other so little was able to see how shaken by everything the Count was; as much as himself. Edmond clearly tried to choose with great care the best words to show the youngest what he felt without leaving room for ambiguity.
"I'm sorry... that the friendship you have for me has been tarnished by these events. I... I am sincere in telling you that... at first I didn't... this feeling was not reciprocated on my part, but it became precious to me later…" The Count looked the teenager straight in the eye as he spoke. "I really cherish your friendship... and regardless of everything that happened earlier I want you to know that I'm really sorry for putting it aside and expose your life at risk by my sword while I was blinded by my desire for revenge against Fernand."
The young man's blue-green eyes filled with pain at the mention of that name, but keeping his composure, as expected of a nobleman, he spoke as neutrally as he could.
"I… don't blame you for what happened. I can't... not after all this."
Edmond inclined his head; he understood well.
"But you're mourning him and you're grieving." The Count's voice was filled with certainty and the teenager's face could not hide from the other the grief that existed in his heart.
Edmond looked up and watched the window in front of them and the rain that was now beginning to fall hard on the outside, and sighing once more, he continued.
"My little friend... There are no words that I can say that are enough to explain the actions I committed and justify the attitudes that led me to do what I did today; I am fully to blame for the life I took away and which was very important for you…" The man's eyes came back to rest on the boy. "Albert... I can't tell you that I regret it, because I would be insincere... But I understand your grief and I regret the pain you feel now."
Albert took a deep, ragged breath; he felt his chest burn hard, as if he had actually been physically injured, and the blurry scenes of what had happened earlier flashed through his mind again and he shook his head.
"I mustn't mourn him, sir…he shot my mother and nearly killed her."
That admission was enough to make completely real to him the nightmare his life had become; the numbness that had gripped his body during the afternoon completely disappeared, and only then did his subconscious digest everything; the man who he had called his father his entire life had never been the best father, but Albert had not hesitated to stand in front of him to defend him from an enemy with his life if needed; Fernand knew everything and yet he used him, betrayed him, and chose to shoot his mother so he could run away like a coward. He had shot Mercédès to kill her and his mother only didn't die because of Jacopo and his quick and precise skill with daggers.
He felt his entire body shudder with accumulated tension and tears of frustration, pain and disgust well up in his eyes; and feeling a deep shame at showing such frailty in front of the Count whom he so admired, Albert closed his eyes and struggled as hard as he could to maintain his composure, but failed miserably; the tears slid down his reddened face and before he could do any action to wipe them away, the young man felt himself being embraced by the man.
Edmond wrapped the teenager in his arms and tucked him against his chest; as much as he had kept his distance from the other until then, seeing him that way caused something inside him to break and that made him instinctively reach out and offer comfort. The gigantic sadness that the boy felt reminded him of a long time ago, when overcome by despair and despondency deep in the darkness of his cell, Father Faria had comforted and helped him to overcome in every way possible the hard years he had suffered in the Chateau D'if. Though the circumstances were completely different, he felt that this boy's world had been as horribly shattered as his own had been the day he had been taken by force from his father's home wrongfully accused of treason.
And not only that... the weight of the knowledge that that young, brilliant, brave, and honorable young man was his son... He had a son! A son with Mercédès that he had dreamed of having while he planned to build their family and whom he had almost hurt early on in his desire for revenge. Only then did he realize that for a brief moment he had been very close of losing the entire life he had ahead of him with the woman he loved and the son he had no knowledge of existence; for an instant he almost lost them.
The man closed his eyes and pressed the boy against him and Albert did not move away; consumed by the great sadness within, he embraced the man back and wept heavily, his tears shamefully soaking the white shirt the Count still wore.
"It's okay, Albert..." Edmond whispered to the boy, stroking his short black hair. "It's okay... There's no shame in crying..."
And when he felt Albert's arms hug him more tightly, the man was sure that both had at that moment crossed a barrier that existed between them, breaking the distance that separated them and taking the first steps that started a new relationship; the wounds would take time to heal, but Edmond would wait as long as he could to regain the young man's trust... Until Albert could come to him of his own accord and open up so he could truly know his child.
"It's okay…" He repeated softly. "I promise that as long as I live, nothing will ever happen to you and your mother again..."
...
Albert knocked gently and entered the room where his mother was resting; he found her awake, sitting on the bed watching the large window that let the morning light into the environment. As soon as the young man was fully present, her blue eyes fell on him and the woman's tired countenance lit up with joy, a kind smile blossomed on her face.
"Albert!"
She called his name and opened her arms in reception, and the teenager immediately crossed the room to sit on the edge of the bed; as soon as he did it the woman embraced him and he immersed himself in the affectionate, familiar gesture that had often in the past been his only safe haven from the evils of the world.
"I missed you, darling."
Albert partially pulled back to watch her; although her skin was still pale, her face looked better and more relaxed; she distinctly looked fine, radiant... Despite the circumstances, there was such a joy in her eyes that he had never seen on them before.
"How are you, Mother?" He inquired still concerned.
"Better than I've ever been." Mercédès smiled and touched her son's face tenderly with trembling hands. "I was worried when you disappeared; with God's blessing I arrived in time to avoid a great tragedy."
The woman brought the boy closer and kissed him on the cheek, clearly moved.
"It's okay." Albert told her.
"Oh Albert... Forgive me... You must be so confused! There are so many things I wanted to explain to you and so little time to do it... Time was running against us, it seemed like I would never have the opportunity to talk to you, especially after you ran away..."
"I'm sorry, Mother... For leaving, I... I was so... Angry... For the things Madame Villefort said to me..." The teenager turned his face away from the woman, but Mercédès made him look back at her again.
"My dear, I wish I had reached you earlier to explain... Everything happened so fast... My reunion with Edmond and our decision to leave the country..." And seeing the look of confusion and surprise on her son's face , she added. "That the morning I was looking for you; I came to get you, my love, so the three of us could leave all this behind and start a new life together... The life that was so unjustly stolen from us."
"Stolen...?"
Albert repeated without understanding; though thinking about that, he remembered that the same surprise he had felt had been vividly reflected in the face of the Count of Monte Cristo in the inevitable confrontation earlier; and he also remembered how kindly the man had treated him when they had talked the day before, and how he had helped him, comforting him and leading him to his assigned room as soon as he had recovered a little. Although he was still embarrassed at having grabbed the man like a small child and cried his eyes out, he had been surprised at the kindness and patience the Count had given him.
Staring at his mother, he inquired.
"He...didn't know either...what you told us about."
Mercédès nodded in affirmation.
"No... Albert, it had been many years since I had seen him, I believed that your father was dead all this time; a lie so dirty and entangled by so many misunderstandings and evil actions that acted against both of us that..." The woman was momentarily silent, filled with strong emotion; her son worried, but she shook her head and insisted on continuing. "After we met again, it took time to get Edmond to open and talk to me... to tell me the truth of what had really happened to him... Why he had been away from us all these years... Oh, Albert. .. I wish I could have told you both the truth before, but there wasn't time; these forces that took your father away in the past have almost torn us apart again now."
"Mother, you can continue later... Please, you need to rest, you're still convalescing..." Albert said worriedly at the woman's still tired pale face, but Mercédès shook her head and remained firm in her conviction.
"I'll have plenty of time to rest and recover later; this can't wait any longer... No... I want to tell you everything now, Albert, I want to talk to you about Edmond, about the love I feel and will always have for him, and why I just now revealed to you both this truth..."
The woman made her son lie down in the vacant space beside her on the bed, and her soft voice took them both on a journey back to the past, back to the old and ever-busy Port de Marseilles.
...
The days that followed seemed to pass slowly and calmly, as if they were living in a place far from the rest of the world and nothing that existed outside that building could reach them. There, time passed at their speed, steady and serene, allowing his mother's recovery to progress well and the family in the meantime to truly get to know each other.
As much as he had tried to imagine the circumstances that had brought the Count of Monte Cristo closer to his mother in the past and that had lead them to the present situation in which they found themselves, nothing could have prepared him for the story Mercédès told him that day. And from the moment he left the room where his mother rested, Albert realized that his world, everything he knew and believed, had been completely transformed and that he would no longer would be able to look at Edmond Dantés with the same eyes.
To know the truth... In its real weight... It had hurt him so hard as it had also hurt his mother... He could not conceive that that admirable, cultured, educated, honorable man had suffered so vile and dirty betrayal... He couldn't even think of the horrors he'd lived through when he was arrested... The endless nightmares in the depths of Chateau D'if, a place he'd learned in his studies that was destined for France's worst criminals ... He couldn't conceive how a human being could survive in the conditions he lived in... What he had suffered.
It was almost a miracle to the man still be among them... And maybe his mother truly considered it a miracle and thanked God for it every day in her prayers.
And when the shock of the knowledge subsided, as well as the impact of that turn in his life, Albert began to feel inside himself the desire to get closer and know who his real father was, and it was during that first week they were living in the mansion during his mother's recovery that Albert stopped looking at the man and seeing him as his friend, the Count of Monte Cristo, and began to see the person who was Edmond Dantès.
Although the man's personality hadn't changed since he'd met him during the festivities of Rome, there, in that small private sanctuary that belonged to their family alone, the young man noted that Edmond was always present, constantly concerned about the health of his mother and whether Albert was feeling well during their stay there; he was very attentive to details, nothing escaped his watchful eye, Edmond was also very respectful and on the brief occasions when they talked, Albert realized that the Count wanted to approach him too, but at the same time he was careful, not wanting to go too far and too fast and giving time for the new relationship they started to gradually get stronger.
"For the time you find it necessary Albert" The man said gently once when he noticed again the young man's difficulty in choosing a term to address him. "While our relationship is growing, please…you may call me Edmond."
It was very different from before; the man never demanded his attention or anything from him, always being sincere, demonstrating his genuine desire to build trust between them.
And something Albert also saw with a clarity that he had never seen before in his life in those days was how Edmond Dantès made his mother genuinely happy.
During a pleasant morning as they walked through the extensive garden, the teenager watched from distance as the couple proceeded on a slow and pleasant walk suited for the convalescing woman. His mother had a wide smile on her lips and her face radiated so much light that it was impossible not be affecte by it; indeed, Edmond was watching her with a serene countenance, his blue-green eyes filled with contentment and deep peace.
Close to where Albert was, Jacopo was also watching the man and the woman and seemed to notice the same thing the young man had found.
"In all the years I've known your Father, kid, I've never seen him look like that. He's finally found the true peace his spirit so longed for."
Albert watched the other man who he knew was a true and very loyal friend of Edmond's; Albert liked Jacopo and enjoyed his company, and in the few days he knew him, with Jacopo always being with them at the mansion, the teenager had already realized that he would also find in him a great friend.
His attention returned to his parents when he saw the couple stop walking next to a tree and Mercédès turned to look at the man. They talked in privacy, but Albert still watched them; Edmond's eyes took on a nuance of mild surprise and the woman laid a hand on his face, caressing his cheek, and Edmond leaned into the touch and closed his eyes. The Countess came over andembraced him; the man responded to the gesture and wrapped her in his arms, and standing on tiptoe with a mischievous smile on her lips, Mercédès put her arms around his neck and brought him down to her and kissed his lips.
Jacopo shook his head, but there was contained joy in his suspiciously tearful eyes.
"They went through hell and came back so they could live this. God only knows how much they deserve it."
Albert watched the couple and couldn't help but think that Edmond not only made his mother happy, but that she also helped him recover with her love.
...
Albert frowned as he looked at himself in the mirror with deep displeasure written on his face.
He had been trying to adjust the knot of the scarf around his neck for nearly an hour and he was failing miserably; the fabric was too smooth and wasn't staying in place and with each new attempt instead of solving the problem, he ended up messing up his outfit even more. He really wanted to wear one of his favorite scarves that were much easier to tie, but most of his clothes were still at the Mondego mansion and they would precisely drop by later that day to pick up and his and mother's things after they passed briefly through the town, and he had to try to improvise to make himself presentable enough for this outing.
For the hundredth time the teenager retied the knot and as soon as his fingers released the fabric it fell flat on his chest; he was about to bang his head against the mirror in frustration when he saw through the object the Count of Monte Cristo standing at his door, watching him in silence with a sober countenance, but his blue-green eyes betrayed his amusement.
The young man glared at him and the man threw up his hands defensively.
"Forgive me, Albert; I didn't want to disturb you, but we've been waiting for you in the carriage for some time already and your mother started to become worried that you never came down."
The teenager muttered something under his breath and helpful Edmond entered the room and approached his son.
"If you'll allow me, I think I can help you with that and I'll tell your mother I met you on the way to the front door."
The man flashed him a mischievous wink and utterly defeated, the teenagers' blue-green eyes meet his almost begging for help.
"Here..." Edmond touched the scarf and patiently retraced the movements that positioned the fabric in place, and with enviable easy practice he tied the knot and the scarf stayed in place in its perfect shape on the young man's neck. "There it is. What do you think?"
Albert watched himself in the mirror; his appearance was impeccable and he stared at the scarf a moment longer.
"It's perfect...thanks." He replied sincerely.
Edmond smiled at him, slapped softly the teenager twice on the shoulder and walked away, indicating for the younger man to follow and Albert obeyed. As they walked together to the waiting carriage, Albert watched himself as he could through the reflection in the glass of the windows or in the highly polished vases along the way, and he remembered the stories his friends told him and the things he wanted from Fernand in the past and he had never done it; this was the first time anyone other than his mother had helped him put on his scarf and watching the Count gratefully, he was glad Edmond had done it.
Reflecting on those small and simple moments in life, but so important, the teenager began to think that maybe that was the true meaning of the word 'father'.
...
Albert wandered the silent corridors of the mansion; his feet rested softly on the cool marble floor and made almost no sound to his walking. It was late in the morning and he did not want to disturb the other inhabitants of the old building, but his spirit was uneasy by the nightmare he had had and he could no longer close his eyes and go back to sleep normally, and unable to continue confined inside his room the young man felt the urge to walk for a long time until fatigue made his mind quiet and he felt safe again to make another attempt to sleep.
His plans, however, were interrupted when he had barely made the first lap around the mansion's corridors and was startled when he saw a dark figure approaching him suddenly.
"Albert?" Edmond looked at him, his face taking on slight surprise.
The teenager blushed; the man was dressed only in trousers and a crimson red robe that had been hastily put on as soon as he got out of bed, no doubt alert when he realized that someone was strolling inside the property at such an absurd hour.
"I'm sorry for waking you up."
The man didn't it.
"I don't usually go to bed so early, my little friend; I actually have the same habit sometimes." His face now filled with concern, he inquired of the younger one. "It's everything all right?"
Albert nodded his head several times, embarrassed.
"Yes, sir! I'm just... can't find any sleep."
The man nodded and chuckling lightly, he choose to say.
"Albert, if you feel like walking inside or outside the mansion you can do it any time you like; this is also your home."
The teenager's face turned even redder, but he thanked the other.
The Count waved his hand and silently invited his son to join him on a walk and Albert readily accepted. The two walked together through the hallways of the building and the man led the way and spoke with understanding in his tone.
"I often walked this path, especially after I bought this property; there was a lot in my head to think about and plan for, but when I walked into the wee hours of the morning, I usually did it because of my nightmares."
Albert looked at him in surprise.
"How did you know?"
"Because I recognized their shadows on your face; I also got that same look when it happened." Edmond watched him gently. "Would you like to talk?"
The young man thought for a moment as they both continued to walk in silence; although a little embarrassed about sharing something he considered silly now with his mind fully awake, he realized that this was an opportunity presented to him to get closer to the man and so he spoke a little shyly.
"I... dreamed we were in that place again... And he... He was there." His voice cracked; he refused to say Fernand's name. "He had two bullets this time...I saw him kill my mother...and I saw him kill you."
Edmond listened to him; his face remained unchanged, filled with a tranquility that he managed to pass to the young man with his solid and constant presence during that short walk, helping him to calm down. And when he spoke up, his voice was not unkindly.
"No matter how harsh or unpleasant it is, it's normal sometimes to dream things like this, Albert. These nightmares...These dreams actually only bring a message to us."
"And what is it?" The boy inquired.
"That we care." The man's gaze met his. "The people whom are precious to us, so important that we don't want to lose them; it's almost like an affirmation that comes from our subconscious. That we care."
Albert looked at him with a feeling growing in his chest; in those words he realized how much the presence of that man had become so precious and important in his life, and that he had unconsciously become so fond of him that only then did he realize that he was seeing Edmond the same way he saw his mother; that he cared, and in Edmond's sincere eyes the teenager realized that the other understood exactly the meaning of those words, because he also felt the same.
Edmond raised his hand and slowly he extended it and it hovered close to the young man's face for a brief moment; noticing that Albert hadn't diverted away and was clearly allowing his approach, the Count touched his son's cheek tenderly and caressed it, and unconsciously the teenager leaned on his hand. The man's eyes filled with deep emotion at such a simple gesture; it was the first time they were really close, without the storms from the world around interfering between them.
"For a long time I didn't dream...but I dreamed once again of the future and hope when you and your mother came back to me."
The man revealed, his voice a little more than a whisper, like a secret shared only between them, and Albert was moved; he raised his own hand and rested on his father's on his face and his heart rejoiced in contentment as he felt how deep inside he longed for it.
...
"Mother?" Albert called politely and peered through the half-open bedroom door; he saw the woman look up from a book she was reading, sitting by a table that also contained other titles.
She was alone in the room and he entered it as soon as she gave him permission, feeling relieved for he wanted to talk to her alone.
"What was it, dear?" Mercédès asked and motioned for her son to sit in the vacant chair.
"Sorry if I interrupted your reading, but…I need your help."
"Something happened?" Her blue eyes took on concern, but the young man soothed her.
"No, it's okay! I just…wanted to ask you for some advice." Albert spoke a little sheepishly and the woman laid the book on the table to give him her full attention.
"You can tell me, Albert." She encouraged.
The sixteen year old watched his hands on his knees and tried to express himself as best he could.
"It's just... a lot has happened this month while we're living here and a lot has also changed. Me and Monseur Edmond, I feel we're closer and... this relationship overcomes the friendship we had for each other before. Still, in all that time I never... called him Father."
Albert sighed softly.
"At first I was so confused and even knowing the whole truth to call him that seemed strange... I spent my whole life calling another man that way because of the respect I owed to him and because I was taught to do it, but now I feel... that everything is very different... I... I like Monseur Edmond a lot! He is my friend and I admire him as I have never admired anyone else before, but it's not because I am Albert Dantès, son of the Count of Monte Cristo, and that I now bear his name that I feel I am obliged to call him that... No, I..."
His blue-green eyes, so alike the eyes of the man she loved, watched her pleadingly.
"I want to call him Father…because I want to… and I don't know how to do it."
Mercédès watched her son, her eyes suspiciously watery; moved, she ran her hands over her face to compose herself and reaching across the table the woman took both her son's hands in hers.
"My dear, if your heart is asking you to call him that, just say so."
"But he won't...I don't know...Do you think he'd like that too?" Albert inquired shyly.
"Albert..." His mother called him tenderly and with a knowing smile on her lips. "This whole time Edmond and you were getting to know each other, I can sincerely tell you that there hasn't been a single day that he hasn't looked at you as his son."
...
They were walking together outside the mansion that late afternoon; the cloudless sky showed the warm shades of orange, red, and brown that blended with the sunset over the horizon and merged with the blue-green colors higher up where tiny stars began to appear in the vastness of space. The two watched together from the top of an elevated building as the phenomenon took place; immersed in a comfortable silence, they remained there until the sun had completely disappeared and night began to become more predominant in the scene.
Edmond let the air escape his lungs slowly and with a sense of contentment, and Albert watched him curiously.
"Did you know this was one of the reasons why I chose to buy this property when I returned?" The man commented. "It's one of the few places where you can see the sunset with this feeling of ampleness; it reminds me of the days I spent sailing on the high seas... It never ceased to amaze me."
Albert grinned softly.
"From the sky the view must be even more beautiful... I heard you arrived in a balloon when you introduced yourself to society and impressed everyone; I wish I could have seen it."
The Count watched the young man with an eyebrow raised.
"Have you come to the reception?"
"Of course I did, but sadly we left early. I was dying of curiosity to meet you, people didn't talk about anything else!" Albert chuckled lightly, feeling a little silly now, but the man's genuine laugh joined his with good humor.
"Well, it was the desired effect... It wouldn't look good on the image of an Count if my reception were dull as a funeral."
"Not really." The younger one snickered and Edmond naturally placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Well, I can't leave your wish open now, can I? Once your mother fully recovers, we can one day fly on balloon together before we leave the country, if you like."
Albert looked at the other and suddenly filled with that feeling so strong and wonderful that he recognized as one of the forms of love, the young man smiled said with tenderness and sincerety.
"I would like that very much, Father..."
He felt the hand on his shoulder immediately freeze and deep astonishment came over Edmond's face as he stared at the younger man completely speechless. Albert watched him with nuances of concern, but then he saw the Count's blue-green eyes fill with tears and they slid openly down his face without the man being able to express any reaction. He opened his mouth and the words didn't come out, but his father's gaze revealed everything he couldn't speak at that moment; so gentle and kind, filled with such emotion that Albert was deeply moved by that same feeling and he blinked several times to contain the tears that had also suddenly sprung up in his own eyes, but still grinning the young man let his body sink against his father and he embraced the man fondly, and he felt when Edmond's arms surrounded him tightly.
"Alright, my son..." The man whispered in a choked voice. "We will do it together."