No More

Broken chunks of stone were scattered everywhere. It looked as if a giant had torn the castle to shreds and stomped on everything, not caring who or what had got caught in its rage. But there was no giant. There was only her husband, still sheathed in winter, half-straddling Mayura as he gripped her shoulders and seemed to try to shake the soul out of her.

"It's your fault!" he screamed, his voice hoarse and wobbling. "Father had a plan! He had a—"

"Your father lied!"

"You don't know that!"

"I know him!" She held his gaze, her body bloodied and her armour shattered in places. "And so do you."

A snarl was torn from his throat. He raised his hand, which glowed with icy, destructive power.

"Blanc!" Marinette yelled.

He froze.

She stepped forward, a lump forming in her throat. "I'm here. I'm fine. Carmine's gone. She can't hurt me now."

He dropped Mayura and took a few steps closer. "Carmine's gone?"

She nodded.

Tears streaked down his face, but he didn't rush to her. He slumped to his knees and pressed his face to his hands, hunched over and trembling. It was like watching ice shatter. But his hair stayed a stark white and his robe would not go back to black. Even now, she didn't know how to fix this.

"Where's your father?" she asked. Maybe she could make Hawkmoth change him back.

Blanc didn't answer.

"He's dead," Mayura said.

"What?"

Mayura laughed, though it soon turned into a hacking cough, spittle and blood dribbling down her chin. She had not moved from where she lay sprawled on her back. Perhaps she couldn't. "He's dead," she repeated. "I killed him."

"But Cat, he's still …"

"I couldn't take the risk. I couldn't let him win." A smile tugged at Mayura's lips, bloody and pained. "He'll never be with Emilie now."

Marinette dashed over, knees scraping the ground as she grabbed Mayura by the shoulders just as Blanc had done only moments before. "Tell me you're lying."

"I'm not."

And she really wasn't. The body was not far from them, trapped under a slab of stone and bent in a weird angle like a tossed ragdoll. No sound. No twitch. Hawkmoth was dead.

The lump in Marinette's throat got bigger. Suddenly, she was tightening her grip on Mayura's shoulders, fingers digging in like claws. "You—you've ruined everything! Why couldn't you have waited? Why couldn't you have let me save Cat first? Now he's just—he's always going to be—"

Mayura laughed again, but there were tears as well, cutting a path through the dust and blood on her cheeks. "Terrible, aren't I?"

Marinette was shocked into letting her go.

"Oh, don't worry. I have no illusions about myself." Her voice softened. "I know I'm a wretch. I've ruined lives. I've lied and killed and done whatever it took to get my way." She squeezed her eyes shut, fresh tears spilling free. "I'm just like him."

"Mayura …"

"But I won." She forced a smile, all bared teeth and strain. Too much strain. "I won. Papillon is dead. My sister is gone." More tears. Another hacking cough. "It's … it's finally over."

"No!" Marinette slammed her fist into the ground. "I can't let it end like this. I won't!"

"What are you going to do? Bring the dead back to life?"

She flinched.

Mayura laughed and closed her eyes. "No, you're not like Carmine, are you? I guess I could have trusted you after all. I just never thought Carmine would lose."

"She didn't either."

Mayura's lips curved, then twisted in pain. "It seems we both underestimated you … Marinette."

It was the first time Mayura had called her by name, and it brought hot prickles to Marinette's eyes. She didn't even understand why. This goddess had tried to kill her. Had tried to kill all of them. There was no reason to cry over her, even if she was dying. But the tears still welled up. Marinette swiped at her eyes and averted her face.

"You have to break the object," Mayura said softly.

"What?" Marinette swung back to face her.

"The akuma. It would have flown into something of your husband's. Break it." She gestured at the weapon attached to Marinette's hip. "And then purify the butterfly with that."

Marinette fingered the weapon, seeing for the first time that it could open. "Can I really trust you?"

"I have no fight with you. Go save him." She met her gaze, and for once it was not like staring into the chill of frost. "You're the goddess of creation now. You can do it."

Marinette stood up and approached Blanc, who was still hunched over—a broken, shivering thing whose puppet strings had been cut. She stroked her fingers once down his back, then dug in to wrench the cloth. It shredded like paper to her godly strength. All trace of winter faded from him even as a butterfly emerged, its wings a purple-bruised black and almost dripping with taint.

"No more for you," Marinette whispered.

She captured the akuma in her weapon and told it to be purified, just in case trapping it wasn't enough. When she released it, its wings were the colour of snow.

Adrien looked up at her with those warm, summer-green eyes. "Marinette?"

She collapsed into his arms and hugged him close. "You're back."

"I … I don't understand. What happened? Why are—" He held her away from him, his eyes wide as he glanced around at the ruined castle. "Wait, what happened to the castle?"

"You don't remember?"

He shook his head.

Marinette bit her lip, fresh tears prickling in her eyes. How was she supposed to explain all of this to him?

"Marinette?" he said, anxious now. "What happened? Don't tell me I lost control of my—"

"You didn't lose control of your powers, boy."

They both turned to face Mayura. She was still on her back, but it seemed like more blood had gathered in slippery trails around the shattered gaps in her armour.

"I did this," Mayura said.

Marinette's eyes widened. A lie? Why had she lied?

"I created a sentimonster that destroyed the castle, I killed your father, and I would have killed your wife, but you protected her." Mayura laughed, loud and mocking. So false, too. "You should be proud. You did everything a loving husband should."

Adrien lowered his gaze to his hands. "Father is … dead?" His voice was impossibly small. Years seemed to shed off him as he hugged his arms to himself, leaving him looking like a trembling child.

"Don't cry for him," Mayura said harshly. "He doesn't deserve your tears. He came tonight believing that your wife would die and Carmine would win the struggle to be the goddess of creation. Trust me on that."

Marinette touched Adrien's arm. "I think it's true. Your father told me he didn't care what happened to either of us. He just wanted your mother back."

Adrien bit his lip and turned away from them. "Where?" he said hoarsely.

"What?"

"Where's the body?"

Marinette pointed.

He walked away from them, still so small and fragile. Should she follow? But no, he would have asked her to if he wanted her there. Maybe he needed this time to be alone. This time for closure.

Marinette frowned and turned back to Mayura. "Why did you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Lie? We both know he's the one who destroyed the castle. He gave you those injuries as well, didn't he?"

A wry smile twisted Mayura's lips. "You never saw him after what happened with the Protector. The boy was traumatised. He had to be forced to use his power." She shrugged, closing her eyes. "I just … he and I are not so different. Both isolated. Both feared. I guess … I wanted to be kind, just this once. His memories of Blanc will never come back. It seemed a little thing to spare him this one pain."

"Then you don't think I should tell him about the akuma?"

"No, Marinette. I don't. He may have protected you, but he also worked with his father and put you in danger. Do you think he'd ever forgive himself for that?"

Probably not.

"Just let it be," Mayura said tiredly, like it was a struggle to get words out. "It's over now anyway."

Marinette looked towards Adrien, who had pushed the slab off his father's body and was now kneeling before him. She supposed it was over. Carmine was gone. Hawkmoth would never be able to control his son again. Mayura was no longer a threat. All of the promises had been kept, and the only thing left to do now was move on.

"Mayura," Marinette said, glancing back at her.

She froze, knowing even before she checked that there would be no response. That there would never be another response. Mayura's chest was still. Her pulse was silent.

The goddess who had been brought back to life was dead once more.

oOo

Marinette approached Adrien. His eyes were red-rimmed, and he still knelt before his father. "Hey," she said softly.

Without a word, he leaned into her as if all the pillars keeping him upright crumpled, pressing his face into her stomach. Her eyes widened, but she held him close and stroked her fingers down his hair.

"I feel so stupid," he whispered.

"Why?"

"He controlled me. He barely gave me any affection. He used you and didn't care if you got harmed in the process. I should be glad he's dead, but …"

"But what?"

"It still hurts." His voice wobbled. "Why does it have to hurt so much?"

She hugged him closer and closed her eyes. They stayed like that for a long time.

oOo

They buried Mayura's body in the courtyard. It didn't seem right to bury Hawkmoth with her, so they took his body with them. Adrien thought it would be worth checking out his father's castle. He said that his mother might be hidden there. Marinette didn't question it. There was a fragile spark in his eyes that she was afraid of shattering.

They found Emilie in a secret part of the dungeon area. Somehow, she had been preserved: no rot or stench but undeniably dead. The glass coffin was surrounded by white butterflies and flowers. It looked like something from a story. She looked like something from a story: a beautiful princess with a crown of gold, just waiting for her true love's kiss to wake her.

"Mum," Adrien whispered, pressing his hand to the glass.

He didn't cry like he had in front of Hawkmoth. He just smiled sadly and pushed the lid up, then gathered her into his arms.

"You sure?" Marinette asked.

Though what she was asking, she wasn't certain. If he was ready? If he didn't want to spend more time with Emilie to make his goodbyes?

"She deserves to rest properly," he said.

Marinette nodded and stood back. He carried his mother out to the garden and then buried her next to his father. There were no headstones. Nothing special. He didn't cry then either. Perhaps he'd shed all the tears he could for his parents—his mother long ago, and his father in that courtyard of ruin and destruction.

Marinette held his dirt-smeared hand, squeezing tight to say those quiet words. I'm here. I'll always be here if you need me. He rested his head against hers and squeezed back.

For now, it was enough.

One more chapter to go after this!