A God's Gift

Night had come. Marinette was ushered towards the inner courtyard, Hawkmoth and Cat walling her in like guards as if to close off retreat. It made her feel like a criminal. No, a sacrifice. There was a ritualistic edge to the scene: the cloak of darkness, the single torch for light, the old, twisted tree that waited for her and might as well have been a pyre.

But she did not have to burn for this tree. She just had to heal it.

Her feet slowed to a halt.

"What?" Hawkmoth said. "Why have you stopped?"

Words crawled to the tip of her tongue—that she wasn't sure if she wanted to do this anymore. That she was tired of being used, of being manipulated, of being pushed here and there like a pawn.

"That is your role. Your destiny."

She gritted her teeth and glared at the tree that stood twisted and clawing for the sky like a creature frozen mid-rage.

Hawkmoth made an exasperated sound. He grabbed her arm in a bruising grip, dragging her to the tree. Cat, of course, could do nothing but watch with tormented eyes.

"Heal it," Hawkmoth hissed.

Her heart thumped and thumped.

"You have had more than enough rest. Now it is time for you to do your duty."

"I …"

"Heal it now!"

She flinched, and hated herself for it. The cane he carried was too close. His whole presence was too close—cold and forbidding, like a fortress of ice looming over her.

"I will not ask you again, mortal."

She balled her hands into fists. The threat in those words was clear. He wanted Emilie back. He did not care what he had to do to make that happen. He had never cared.

"Just keep healing the tree. Let the fool think he is winning. I will take care of him once I'm free."

Her heart thumped faster. She glanced over her shoulder at Cat, the god she loved. The god who was trapped like a puppet under his father's control because his true name had been manipulated out of him.

He'd only been a child. He'd thought his father was going to help him.

Jaw clenching with resolve, she pressed her hands to the trunk and let the magic fill her in crackling sparks. The tree responded like a creature sensing a feed. Its pulsing beat thrummed through her bones, her soul, as if she was standing in the chamber with the awful cocoon that she saw in her dreams every night.

Yes, the beat seemed to say. Give me life. Make me stronger.

She ignored the chills that crept down her spine, ignored the way her skin crawled as the tree seemed to claw for her just as much as its branches clawed for leaves. This was supposedly her destiny. This might be the only way to free Cat.

Her eyes narrowed and she let the magic spill out of her palms in waves of healing light—let it fill the roots with nourishment, spreading up and up to the tips of its branches. The power of creation thrummed. The tree's pulsing beat grew louder, drowning out her own heartbeat. Drowning out everything.

No, consuming.

She wrenched her hands back, trembling. The flow of magic was cut off, but the tree continued to claw at her with invisible hands, demanding she come back. Her stomach churned, and her legs wobbled and gave out. There was no colour left in her cheeks.

"I can't," she whispered.

"What was that?" Hawkmoth demanded.

She shook her head, fighting the urge to vomit. "That's all I can do tonight," she lied.

He sighed. "Very well. Take her away, son."

Cat scooped her up into his arms without a word. Even as she was carried away, however, she could still feel the tree clawing for her.

oOo

"What happened back there?" Cat asked as he carried her up the stairs to her bedroom. "You stopped earlier than usual."

She pressed her face closer to his chest, trying to anchor herself to the beating of his heart. Maybe it would stop the tree's awful, pulsing echo from humming through her. "I realised what it means to be a remnant of creation."

"What do you mean?"

"Carmine said it was my destiny to heal the tree, but it's not just my healing magic that it wants. It's me."

His grip tightened. "What?"

"I don't know how to explain it. I just … I felt it, Cat. That tree wants me. It'll suck me in just like it does the creation magic."

And then creation would be whole. Her purpose as a remnant would be over.

He froze on the steps, his heartbeat skittering against her cheek.

"Cat?"

"No." He held her closer to him, like his arms could become a shield to shut out anything that would hurt her. "I won't let it. I won't let that tree take you from me."

"It's your father who wants the tree to be healed." She touched his cheek, even as she swallowed against the growing lump in her throat. "He won't let you interfere. You know that."

Cat cursed in frustration.

"Don't worry." Her eyes stung in hot prickles. "I'm not giving up. I … there has to be a way. Even if I am a remnant of creation, I'm still me. That has to mean something, right?"

"Right," he said thickly.

She forced a smile and then hid her face against his chest. That was when she let the tears fall.

oOo

He stayed with her again that night. His arm was warm around her as they lay together in bed, huddled close. It was a simple thing, but her cuts were healing—helped by magic—and that meant he didn't have to be so tentative. She appreciated that now. Being close to him was all she wanted.

"Marinette," he said softly.

"Yes?"

"I …"

"What?"

His hand found hers, interlacing their fingers. "Do you know what the greatest gift a god can give is?"

She frowned at the unexpected subject. "No …"

"Their true name."

Her heart quickened. "Why are you telling me this?" she whispered.

"Because I want you to understand. Sharing your true name with someone is meant to be an act of trust. An act of love."

She swallowed.

"Marinette." He raised her hand to his lips. "I want to tell you my name."

"Cat, no. That's—"

"My gift to give, and I want to give it to you."

"But that's your true name. If you tell it to me, that's just another person who can control you. I mean look what has happened with your father. You can't do this."

"I trust you." He squeezed her hand. "I trust you, and I want to do this. There's no saying what's going to happen—"

"That's no reason to tell me your name!"

"No, you're right, and if it was only out of fear for the future then I wouldn't. But sometimes fear makes us realise things. Things we feel. Things we need to express."

Her heart pounded so fast that her entire body throbbed with the beat. "Cat …"

His other hand moved to cup her cheek. It was a gesture he had done plenty of times before, but that didn't matter. Her pulse still tripped over itself like a clumsy dancer.

"Marinette, when I shared my name with my father, I was a scared child. I thought it was my only option." He held her gaze and brushed his thumb against her cheek. "But with you it's different. I'm not a child, and I want you to know me. All of me."

Butterflies stirred in her stomach. "Are you sure?"

He kissed her for answer—on her lips, her cheek, then a trail to her ear.

"Adrien," he whispered. "That's my name."

Magic pulsed through her in a shock of warmth and raw truth. It was so intimate, so vulnerable, that tears spilled from her eyes. She knew.

Hand still entwined with his, she shifted on top of him and pressed her lips to his. She kissed him again and again—wild, breathless kisses that had them drawing closer, closer, closer.

"I love you," he breathed.

She kissed him harder before she pulled back, looking down into his eyes. "I love you too … Adrien."

So I finally managed to fulfil the kiss prompt. It only took me … 29 chapters. heh

But yeah, this last scene was the thing I saw in my head when I first got the idea for the prompt, so you can understand why I was like 'well, dang, this seems like a waste to not expand on.'