"A boy in a mask and a girl that donned red,
Worked fearless for justice, a bounty on their heads.
Like thunder and lightning, they worked as a pair,
And saved all the poor from danger and despair.
T'was the King who had fallen for their mischievous schemes,
His ego most broken, and ripped at the seams.
But who you may ask, had the nerve to decrown
Who, but a buck and a milker of cows!"
Chapter 2: The Knight and the Baker's Daughter
Marinette's mother had requested that she go into town to deliver bread to the butcher's shop. They were expecting visitors from Bordeaux and had ordered a fairly large supply of rye and sourdough with a few bottles of milk since they sold their supplies a bit cheaper than most.
The maiden had taken the route which crossed the town square. At this time of day, there would usually be a bustle of street performers, vendors and rambunctious children either lost or lost since birth. But to Marinette's surprise, it was the royal herald of arms. The townspeople were gathering, buzzing assumptions on what this could mean. The king has only ever sent the royal herald once and it was to announce the birth of Princess Chloé. The Queen died from labor and the King never remarried. It couldn't be another royal birth.
"Here ye, Here ye! I have an important message from His Royal Majesty the King Andrei of France!" The herald speaks, his voice echoing through the now silent corners of the city. The others began looking at one another, mostly in confusion. The weight of each word sent a chill down their spines.
"Starting today, there will be an increase on taxes due to an unfortunate turn of events which took place on the day of the King's postponed procession around Paris!" The herald puts down the scroll, as if signalling the end of his announcement.
But he is handed another scroll.
"Yesterday, the King came across a pair of fearsome and deadly bandits!" He yells out. The crowds gasp in a mixture of fear and confusion. Could this be signs of an invasion?
But to those who knew, they remained silent. "Clearly, they wanted to kill the king! Thanking the heavens for his bravery-"
Marinette rolls her eyes. Naivety would be a better word.
"The King was able to scare them away! Unfortunately, they stole a great amount!" The royal herald takes out papers, sticking one of them to a post.
"Those criminals are to be hunted down! Whoever will be successful in finding them and presenting them to the king will be greatly rewarded!"
The buzzing only increased in volume. Many of the townsfolk held fear in their eyes. It was difficult to read but somewhere in that crowd, someone worried for their masked guardians.
Some of them wished to protest of a misunderstanding. Something King Andrei wouldn't understand or bear with; him being the root of the problem in the first place.
The treasures of the King have been divided equally among many unfortunate households. His coat and crown were quickly dismantled to hide most of the evidence. The coat had been turned into winter garments while the crown had been melted and spooled into thread, resold to the textile merchants. The jewels, gemstones and a division of coins have been sent to remote areas for relatives while a remainder of the luxuries were shared among the poor.
Marinette's breath got stuck in her throat. She wasn't exactly sure about how to react to this.
She was now a wanted criminal with a bounty on her head. And she was barely fourteen years old! It made her laugh almost, to think about what her mother would say.
She brushes the thought aside. She wasn't exactly bent on the idea of getting caught and being unmasked, let alone seeing her mother's face before landing a spot under the guillotine.
But she continues on, walking with the bread and milk in her basket, trying to mask the fear and worry she felt for her masked partner, Chat Noir.
On her way, she wondered of him and of what he could be doing now.
"To total it all without including the fortune from the people, you have lost a 164th of your inherited fortune." The royal tax collector shook in his place, fumbling documents around with trembling hands.
The King hated him. He was horrible at his job and he himself knew that for a fact. Last week, he had lost half of September's document of collected taxes and he was too afraid to tell the King.
But today, he was to be replaced. Somewhere in his thoughts swam the idea of being executed as a final statement from him.
It was possible.
"Whatever, you're dismissed." The King does not spare a single glance at him, shooing him of with a wave of his hand. "No need for pests like you."
"Th-Thank you, Your Majesty." The tax collector is escorted out, a spear to his back as he is led out into who knows where. The King didn't care, he just wanted him gone.
"Call Gabriel to the room." The King orders. Shortly, Gabriel enters the room. His presence haunts the King a little, but he brushes it off, retaining his proud posture.
Gabriel gives a bow. "Your Majesty." He acknowledges.
"Gabriel." The King says. "I'm sure you know your numbers."
"I'm a capable person." He says. Gabriel was a close subject to the King. As a boy, he has been acknowledged as a promising scholar. Intelligent, educated and a perfect gentleman. Ever since they were young, he stood by the King. Discussing politics and anything that the King found an interest in. It was at around the age of sixteen when Gabriel decided that he serve the Strasbourg Cathedral, later transferring to Paris to become a Judge and Archdeacon of the capital church.
Everyone saw him as a holy man, putting his faith first before anything else. He was known as one of the most level headed people in the kingdom. They trusted him. But if anything else, they feared him.
"Okay then," The King says. "I trust your intellect and intuition more than anyone else's. I put you in charge of the kingdom's taxes."
"I beg your pardon, sire?"
"You own many lands. What harm could this measly responsibility do to you?" The King furrows his eyebrows. "Most importantly, the people fear you. With your image, you could stop those bandits from ever attacking the feudal lords, stop them from stealing from them, and your king."
"Understood, sir." Gabriel bows down. "Those peasants will realize their mistake of interfering with the business of nobility."
Gabriel exits, entering the castle's courtyard. There, he sees the knights drinking their ale as the young squires polished the armour and changed the horseshoes. Among the squires was Adrien, spit-shining a breastplate and making circular motions with his washcloth, seemingly infused in concentration.
Of all the young boys in the palace, Adrien was everyone's favourite. He was the princess's favourite; he was always requested to sit or stand by her as if he were her little dog. It was no secret that the princess was in love with the young boy.
He was also Gabriel's favourite. He was a promising student. Smart, open-minded, talented.
He vividly reminded Gabriel of himself when he was a boy.
Everyone knew Adrien was an orphan just like all the other squire boys. He had no parents and was raised by the servants of the palace. But regardless, he was practically treated like nobility out of favouritism.
"Reverend Sir." A boy acknowledges his presence. Soon, the others began to walk over, greeting Gabriel with respect. Among those who approached him stood Adrien, bowing down to him.
"Reverend Gabriel." Adrien said receiving a touch to the head, blessing the boy with his holy presence. It warmed Gabriel's heart to see the boy. When Adrien was much younger, the reverend would present him with little gifts such as toys or sweets from outside the palace or from his travels. Now that the boy was growing up, they would exchange information; engaging in intellectual conversation and passionately discussing the arts and sciences.
Almost as if Adrien were his own son.
"Reverend, I would like a moment of your time to have a word." Adrien says. Gabriel allows it, leading him to the castle library.
Usually, this is where most lessons are held with the reverend. It was a secluded area for studies and research. Today, it is empty.
"You wanted to tell me something?" Gabriel asks him.
"I heard about today." Adrien says. "About the king appointing you head of the tax collection. And, well, we've talked about the King and his inequity towards the poor and I just hope you remembered-"
"It is in every bit of me to do what God would want me to do best." Gabriel cuts him off. "You're an intelligent boy. Your eyes are open in places where other people would have them tightly shut. You aren't like those people. They only think of themselves. You and I are in many ways alike."
Gabriel knew Adrien would warn him about this. Wealth puts people in the wrong mindset. Adrien having the heart he has would not bear to tolerate such injustice.
Gabriel puts a hand on Adrien's head. "You still have a long way to go before fully understanding all of this. You're still quite young."
Ladybug was well aware of that bounty on her head. But even so, she visited the slums.
Not much of the bourgeoisie or the nobility would ever think of venturing down here. It was usually a safe place for them. But now with being wanted criminals, Ladybug began to doubt.
It was easy to hide out of costume. She'd blend in excellently with everyone. But revealing her identity was out of the question.
After all, magicians never reveal their secrets.
She enters the area. The grounds were damp with mud and could through her boots. As she passed through, the people moaned their cries of joy for he presence.
"Ladybug!" A sickly man exclaims. "Our hero!"
Children gather around her, holding her tight in a big embrace, some hugging her arm or tugging her cloak.
"Hello, everyone." Ladybug sighs in relief, seeing that there seems to be no one hurt or in need of help.
"We heard of the terrible news. About the reward for you and Chat Noir!" One woman says fearfully, holding her child close. "That despicable King spoke lies about you two!"
"Lies?" It was Chat Noir. "Pretty unconvincing ones if you ask me. He's a bit of a wuss."
"Chat Noir!" The children laughed, pulling him over to join the group.
"Didn't see you come in." Ladybug says.
"Nope. Just got here." Chat replies. "I came as soon as I heard of the bounty. I went to check in on everyone. Who knows what the King'll do if he tries patrolling in this part of the kingdom. It'd be our fault."
"We'll never let him get you guys, we swear!" One little girl says, her bright blue eyes were wide and full of determination.
Chat Noir pats her in the head. "As guardians, our job is to stand up for everyone. To put everyone out of harm's way."
"Chat Noir is right. If the King ever plans on putting anyone in danger in our expense, we'll be there to do our best and get everyone someplace safe." Ladybug says. "No one deserves to suffer for us, because we fight for you!"
"Long live the masked guardians!" The crowds began to tearfully exclaim. Men and women, young and old cry out to them, reaching out their blessings of hope and prosperity for the heroes who pledge to save each and every one of the poor.
One day, the downtrodden will be avenged.
Adrien had returned late that night. It was past midnight. The candles burned low, the horses were sound asleep and the courtyard was as silent as a graveyard. All that could be heard were the sound of crickets and the steady motion of the moat water rippling against the night wind.
He tiptoed, being careful not to wake any of the servants or the nursemaids who had rules for young squire boys wandering late outside. But this was a routine for him who was out on most nights, spending time with Ladybug.
He never understood why, but she confused him. She pulled him the way rocks get pulled by gravity or how the moon gets pulled the sea.
He has read many books. Most on the works of Macrobius, Cassiodorus, Galileo and Descartes. Adrien believed to have looked for the right books to help solve his burning question; them containing his symptoms. At first, he went back and forth between hypertrophic cardiomyopathy and mitral valve prolapse before self-diagnosing himself with costochondritis. But that was until the nurses had told him he was being delusional and unreasonable, seeing that he was perfectly fine, which he was.
But every time he would reunite with the same girl, his insides would do summersaults and his heart would ignite in a strange flame that cried out in longing.
As if searching for something.
Perhaps it was because he was young. He had always been told he was too young for things he went out looking for. Answers, feelings, explanations.
But sometimes, it's better to live without knowing too much.
"Adrikins!" The sudden shrill tone of the princess makes him jump. "Do come up here! I'm in need of a companion!"
Her voice had ultimately broke the peaceful ambiance of his thoughts. Adrien began looking around, checking if anyone had woken up.
Quickly he climbs the stone walls to the princess's balcony, swinging his legs over to attend to whatever the princess needed. "Your Highness," He greets her with a low bow. The princess pulls him back up with a forceful tug, giggling at his actions.
"Silly, you don't have to do that!" The princess says, pulling him by the collar. "After all, we're getting married one day!"
"We-we are?!" Adrien practically shrieks, but taking his words back carefully, he clears his throat. "I.. I-I mean, of course. Your Highness."
"We'll have flowers, and lots and lots of candles! My wedding dress will be spun from gold and you'll never see a prettier bride even if you sailed to the ends of the Earth!"
"Well, Your Highness, the Earth is actually round. You won't ever reach the end." Adrien says, changing the subject into something he'd rather talk about. "A research done by the Greeks have tested this theory by comparing the shadows of two sticks observed at different locations-"
"Yeah, okay, that's cute." Princess Chloé cuts him off, visibly uninterested. Adrien tries not to take offense to this but instead shuts up. "And don't forget our beautiful future children! I already have names!"
"Right.. names.." He holds back a sigh.
"Don't you see it, Adrien?" Chloé giggles, far too deep into her dreamscape. "We'll be rich and madly in love!"
Love.
"Can you.. say that again, Your Highness?" Adrien says. His eyes, almost glimmering.
"We'll be rich and madly in love?" She says.
"Love." Adrien repeats, holding a fist against his chest.
The Princess notices a sudden glow in him. Not realizing that she had just diagnosed him with his newfound sickness.
Quickly, Adrien gets back on his feet, readying himself to jump back down the balcony. "Princess, it's getting late. Sister Yenta will scold me if she sees me here."
In a flash, he was gone; running back with a wide grin and some sort of hope lighting a fire inside him.
"You're welcome!" The Princess yells. She was unsure, but whatever she said may have helped him realize his feelings for her.
Okay, so I may have given Gabriel a religious role in this story and I might as well have to turn the ratings up a notch because of some possible future scenes which might end up being a tad bit too realistic.
It's strange to see our beloved Hawkmoth this way but I kinda figured that it would fit well with the political conflict with the taxes and injustices and all that jazz.
Or am I taking this cartoon fanfic a little to seriously? Hmm, it's a thought.