Author stuff: Well, it's Thursday. (shrug) Didn't realize yesterday was Wednesday. I'm not used to working Wednesdays.

Anyway, chapter two!

Summary: Robin Hood AU. (Sort of.) After her father is arrested for harboring and aiding the wanted criminal Chat Noir, Marinette must seek him out or lose her father to a crime he did not commit.

Noblesse Oblige

by forgottenyogurtgods

Chapitre deux

Marinette Always Seems To Be Busy

"Give me that."

Marinette watched as Alya took away the dough she had been working on, shaping it into an oblong loaf instead of the normal circular shape her parents preferred. It really didn't matter too much, but her parents liked the consistency.

It didn't take long for news of her father's arrest to travel around Rochers – even the villeins who had been working the field knew. And while the news hadn't gotten any queer looks yet, it was only a matter of time.

She had heard what they said, however. They never were as quiet as they thought. "Tom Dupain was arrested, whisper whisper whisper, apparently he helped Chat Noir, murmur murmur murmur, his poor wife and daughter, mumble mumble mumble, how could he do that to them…" It was as if they had nothing new to talk about.

Honestly, though, they probably didn't. They lived in Rochers, after all.

Thank goodness for Alya and Nathaniel. They had volunteered to help with the boulangerie in the mornings. Both of them worked for Alya's mother at the Sanglier Bleu and had been up since mid-morning the day before. ("Who needs sleep?" Alya said when she had shown up at their gate just as Marinette and Sabine were getting started for the day. "Sleep is for the weak." Nathaniel had agreed.) Alya, Marinette knew, would always help if they needed it. Nathaniel, on the other hand, was a pleasant surprise.

Alya had helped a couple of times before. She knew exactly what needed to be done, however she wanted to work quickly and just be finished with her task. The bread didn't exactly agree with her methods much or often. Nathaniel caught on like a house on fire. Sabine had only had to show him a few times how to shape a loaf, and he could do it almost as perfectly as her mother did.

With their help, they managed to finish ahead of time. Nathaniel and Alya opted to deal with haggling with others, rather than letting Marinette and Sabine do it. It was better this way. Less likely to be asked intrusive questions or hear the gossip.

"Thank you," Marinette said to them when they finally had some peace and quiet. She blew a few stray strands of hair from her forehead – tried to, at least. She sighed and just brushed them away, tucking what she could behind her ear.

"Yes," Sabine said, "thank you both for your help. We're eternally grateful."

She brought out two small baskets covered in old handkerchiefs Marinette had embroidered back when she was just learning. The images were awful. She could see all the little flaws, even from a distance. But Alya and Nathaniel looked on in awe at them.

"Maman Sabine," Alya said, starting to protest.

"Madame Cheng, really," Nathaniel said.

"Take it," Sabine said, insistently holding out the baskets to the pair. "Two loaves of bread each for your family and a good hunk of cheese Marinette made."

"The rosemary and marshwort?" Marinette said, raising her eyebrows. That would be the only one that would be near ready, as far as she could remember.

"Where'd you get marshwort?" Alya said.

"Some of the children found some and brought it to Brother Fu," Marinette said. "He had them give it to me."

Alya nodded and peaked under the handkerchief, smiling.

"Don't be greedy and keep it to yourself, Alya," Sabine said in the all-knowing-mother tone. She patted Nathaniel's hands, as he stood too tall for her to pat his shoulders. "We really appreciate all the help you can give."

"We'll come back again tomorrow, Madame Cheng," he said.

Sabine smiled and nodded, shooing them away. She and her daughter would be able to handle things for the rest of the day. They were in much need of sleep.

Marinette walked them to the gate, hugging them each as they passed her.

"I can't thank you guys enough," she said. "You really didn't have to. Maman and I could handle things. It's just…"

"Your papa did nothing wrong," Alya said, resting her hands on Marinette's shoulders.

"If anything," Nathaniel said, "it's Chat Noir's fault. He should know better by now. He got your father into this whole… mess, he should be the one to get him out."

"Bah, he couldn't work his way out of a boat if it was on land."

"I thought you admired Chat Noir," Marinette said, eyeing her friend up and down.

"Admire, shadmire. He's great for some things, but others? He really drops the ball when it comes to getting people out of a sticky situation. Especially situations like your fathers."

"What about him?"

"Your father is really well known and liked," Nathaniel quickly said. "Almost everyone in Rochers already knows he was arrested. If he were to just randomly reappear…"

"It wouldn't be good," Alya said. "He'd have to keep the escape quiet. Or figure out a way to prove his innocence."

Marinette eyed them. It sounded as if they were planning to help her father escape. Could either of them be the infamous Chat Noir? She had never seen him in person before, so she didn't know. But it wasn't too impossible…

"...could ask him for his help," Nathaniel said.

"Hmm?" she said, looking up at him as she shook herself from her thoughts.

"I said, it's not as if you could ask him for his help. Chat Noir is elusive. He can only be found when he wants to be found."

"Or by random idiots bumbling through the forest," Alya said under her breath, though Marinette wasn't quite sure if she had heard her correctly.

Nathaniel nudged Alya, catching Marinette's curious gaze. Her friend shrugged, a simple gesture that meant that she didn't want to explain – or couldn't at that moment.

"Are you sure you don't need our help anymore?" Nathaniel said, brushing his red hair back.

"Maman and I can handle it, honestly. We've done it before. Almost every day."

They nodded and waved goodbye, starting in the direction of the Sanglier Bleu. It wasn't long after they left that people started to come, and their day really started.

A few hours later, and the two could breathe easily. Marinette was about to start her usual task of organizing the trades when her mother shooed her away.

"Go and give the bread to those children," Sabine said, all but shoving the basket into her daughter's hands. "Who knows when you'll have the time later."

"But I –" Marinette said, cut off by her mother shoving her out of the boulangerie.

"Go! I can handle things for a short while. I still need you to get the flour for tomorrow. The miller isn't expecting us for a while, so you have some time."

"Al… alright."

It was better not to argue with her mother. Sentences ended up being flipped and their meanings altered into something unrecognizable. It was a mother thing, she supposed.

Since it was so early, much earlier than she normally went, she wasn't sure how many of the children would be in her usual spot. When she got there, she was happy to see there were more than the day before. And they were all eager to see her.

"Mademoiselle Marinette," they said. A few surged toward her, pulling her into an awkward embrace that was more bony and uncomfortable than anything else, but the thought was nice.

"We heard about your father. Is he okay?"

"Is it true he fought off the Sheriff and his men and had to be taken down by a blow to the head?"

"Did he really help Chat Noir?"

"I heard he was Chat Noir."

"He's not Chat Noir. Chat Noir is a forest spirit."

"I heard he and Chat Noir are in cahoots to take down the king."

"Chat Noir's not a forest spirit, the Green Men are."

"What's 'cahoots' mean?"

Marinette looked around at the eager eyes, all seeking answers. She gently pressed through them to her usual spot atop the wooden box.

"Alright, bread first and then I'll answer some questions," she said, sitting down. She adjusted her skirts. "You can eat while I talk, does that sound fair?"

They quickly lined up, youngest to oldest. Jaques took his spot at the very end, waiting just as patiently as the others.

The distribution of the day old bread ended just as abruptly as it started, all of the children wanting answers. They sat down willingly on the ground in front of the wooden box, awaiting the answers she was sure to give them.

"Alright," she said when the basket was empty. "First question?"

An uproar of sound erupted from the group. They were silenced by Jaques.

"One by one," he said, voice cracking from the volume he had to project at. Hands shot up and they waited for Jaques to point to them. "Horatio."

"What happened?" the boy, Horatio, said.

"My father was arrested," Marinette said. "The Sheriff said that someone had seen my father helping Chat Noir."

Hands shot up again. A girl, Merle, was called upon.

"Did he really help Chat Noir?"

"I… I don't know." She saw their shoulders slump. "It's not something he and I ever had time to talk about."

"Did he really fight the Sheriff?" one boy said, not waiting for his turn. He received a few good smacks from the children around him.

"No," she said, shaking her head. "Papa isn't a violent man. He can't even hurt a fly – Maman does that." That earned a few giggles. A smile tugged at her lips. "He went with the Sheriff and his men calmly. He's seen what happens to people who fight and try to get away."

"Those people get hurt," a little girl at the front said, her hand raised.

"Yes. Yes, they do."

"Why does the Sheriff hurt those people?" a young boy, no older than six by the looks of him, said.

"He doesn't want to, but it's a part of his job. He has to stop the people who break the laws."

"How come?"

"Well, we're civilized people. All civilized people need rules and laws. If someone breaks them, then they are no longer civilized."

"So they get put in jail like animals in cages, right?" one girl said, a little too eagerly.

"Yes, something like that."

"But why was your papa put in jail?" said another little boy. "He didn't do anything wrong."

"Well, no, but someone said he did. And the Sheriff just wants to make sure, so he's keeping him in a nice jail cell."

"No. Not that. The Sheriff does bad things all the time. He should go to jail. Your papa was just helping someone. Brother Fu told us that helping someone is above the laws of the people because they're God's laws. It's like when Chat Noir helps us."

Marinette wasn't sure how to respond. Chat Noir helped them? Well, of course he would help them, they were innocent children. Almost everyone in the village helped them, the Sheriff included, whether they knew it or not. And the Sheriff doing 'bad things'? She had never heard of anything of the sort.

"But Chat Noir steals," one of the girls said, leaping to her feet, "and stealing is wrong. Brother Fu taught us that."

"The Sheriff steals too!" The boy stood up and tried to get in her face – she was too tall and the sight was comical, but Marinette stepped in before a fight could break out. She placed hands on both their shoulders and gently pushed them apart.

"Fighting never solves anything," she said. "Nor does stealing. I don't know if the Sheriff steals, so I can't say anything about that, but I do know that Chat Noir does steal – but only from those who can afford it. And he does give it back to those who need it. I'm sure God is more than willing to forgive him for that."

It seemed to placate the children for the time being, though the two didn't look happy about the outcome.

"I'm sure the Friar would be willing to answer any questions you have. Now, any other questions for me? I have to head back home soon."

A little boy – at least, she assumed they were a little boy – raised his hand.

"Yes?"

"What does a friar do all day?" he said.

Marinette opened her mouth and then snapped it shut. She looked over to Jaques, who shrugged.

"That's one of the things to ask Brother Fu," she said slowly. The boy nodded, though he seemed a bit disappointed. She bid them farewell and headed back home, her mind turning to Chat Noir.

Could he help her father? Well, he could, but would he?

Talking to the Sheriff seemed like the most logical answer to the situation – explain that it is an honest mistake. Her father didn't help that stupid vigilante. It was someone else, someone who looked like her father. But she doubted he would listen.

If Chat Noir agreed, he'd probably demand something of her family. Free bread or something for him and his Green Men. Or, maybe, something worse – like marrying her. She shuddered at the thought.

"Cold, Marinette?" her mother said, seeing her shake. She took the basket from her daughter's hands. There was worry in her eyes. Marinette pat her cheek.

"I'm fine, Maman," she said. "I was just thinking."

"Well, do some thinking on the way to retrieve our flour. I'll need your help with tonight's dinner when you get back."

Marinette nodded and retrieved the cart and started for the mill. She didn't go there very often anymore, but she recalled the path from her childhood days – back when she thought the world of baking and wanted to know everything about it. Those days were long since gone.

The forest path was quiet except for the wheels of the cart and the chirping of birds – she was sure she could hear the squirrels chittering, too. It was peaceful. She wondered if that was the reason Chat Noir decided to live out there instead of in the walls of the bastide.

Probably, he seemed like the sort – from what she knew of him. Which was very little, in all reality. She only knew stories – some fabricated and retold so many times there was little truth them anymore.

How would one go about getting his attention in the first place? It couldn't be too difficult, being female as she was – she had heard quite a few tales of him rescuing a fair damsel or two in various situations. Those might be the most fabricated, though. So, damsel was tossed out.

Cause trouble in town and hope he hears of it somehow? That… was probably never going to happen. He wouldn't care two hoots if she got herself into trouble.

Wander aimlessly through the forest? Hadn't Alya mentioned that earlier? It, oddly, sounded like the most solid plan she could come up with. But where to start looking? And, besides, if the Sheriff's men couldn't find him, what hope did she have?

Before she knew it, she was at the mill.

The miller's wife and daughters greeted her warmly as she pulled the cart up.

"Marinette," the miller's wife said, pulling her into a hug. "How are you, dear? It's been so long. You're even prettier than the last time I saw you."

"Hello," she said, returning the hug. "It's good to see you, too."

"We're sorry to hear about your father," one of the daughters said. Her sister slapped her in the stomach. Marinette tried not to wince at that. Having siblings seemed… painful.

"Shush," their mother said. She glared at her daughter before turning back to Marinette, eyes much kinder. "Sorry about her, dear. How are you and your mother holding up? Are you two doing alright?"

"We're fine for right now," Marinette said. "Alya and Nathaniel helped us this morning. I have a feeling they'll be helping us for a while."

"Well, if you need anything, don't hesitate to ask. Now, we already put aside flour for your family. I believe this is the normal amount?"

The miller's wife gestured to the four bags of flour. They looked a little more full than they normally did when they got to the boulangerie. Or maybe her eyes were deceiving her.

"Thank you."

"And don't worry about the payment. We can take it at another time."

Marinette looked into the back of the cart and felt herself flush. She forgot to grab it before she left.

"I promise I'll bring it tomorrow," she said, bowing her head

"As I said, we'll take it at another time. Your mind will more than likely be elsewhere. We understand that. Now, I'll get Max out to help you load the flour."

Marinette hadn't seen Max since the Midsummer Festival the year before and, even then, it had been a quick glance. They hadn't been particularly close as children, but they both had had some extra reading and writing lessons with the Friar.

That had been something Lady Agreste had been adamant about – the education of the children. Many their age could read and write. While the numbers had dwindled in the recent years – due to the war and the Great Pestilence – there were always those who wanted to learn.

Marinette had met the Lady Agreste on more than one occasion before her passing. And she had met the youngest Agreste son once when he joined his mother. He seemed impressed, at the time, of her ability to read.

Max, since that time, had grown taller, though he was shorter than her by just a smidge. His smile was just as wide, but his eyes… They seemed to lack focus, as if he couldn't quite see properly – which probably wasn't good in the darkness of the mill.

"Marinette," he said, his grin widening. "It's good to see you. Maman said you could use some help?"

"Oh, yes."

He hefted one of the bags into his shoulders. She knew the bags were heavy – having helped her father on more than one occasion – but she didn't expect Max to be able to. He had always been a frail looking boy, but it seemed that his scrawniness was simply hiding the truth. Max could lift flour bags as easily as she could form bread loaves.

"Do you need any help getting back home?" he said.

"No," she said, "I'll be fine. It's been a while, but I've done this before."

"Alright. If you're sure."

"I am. Thank you for your help, Max. And thank your mother for me."

"Bye, Marinette."

She pulled the cart forward once, twice, three times and set off back into town. The way back was just as peaceful but more slow going. The cart was much heavier now, and it took quite a bit of her concentration to keep the wheels from getting stuck.

As luck would have it, that's just what happened. One of the wheels got stuck in a rut. She tried pulling it out but to no avail. Going around the back, she was able to push it out.

Unfortunately, it rolled out of the rut and into the ditch on the side of the road. She stared hopelessly at it. She looked up and down the road – both the town and the mill were too far to be in sight beyond the height of the trees. She was going to have to walk away for help. But leave the flour there, unguarded? Who knew what vagrant was hiding in the forests, waiting to steal it to make their own bread.

Her shoulders slumped. She really should have taken Max up on his offer.

"Well, well, well, what's this?" a voice said as a figure emerged from the green of the trees. It made Marinette's hair stand on end. The figure – a man – was tall and dressed in all black. He stalked forward languidly onto the road. "A young damsel got her things caught in a ditch. Perhaps we should roll her out of this situation?"

She took a faltering step back, really looking him over.

His clothes were nice and tailored to fit his lean form – soft and worn looking. His angular face was hidden behind a black mask, two eyes a shade of green so unlike anything she had ever seen before watched her through the holes. His blonde hair pulled back and away from his face, a bit wild looking under his hood. Speaking of his hood, two small pointed things were sewn on the the top – horns or some other strange decoration. And… was his belt acting as a tail behind him?

Her heart plummeted to her feet and well into the earth. This wasn't just any vagrant on the roadside.

"Hello, little lady," he said, sweeping an elegant bow in her direction. He spoke with an accent – as if he was trying to mimic the nobility. "I am Chat Noir. And whom might you be?"

Author stuff cont'd.: I have very little memory of writing this. I think it was written at the library? But I could be wrong? It was most likely written while I was listening to dubstep bagpipe music. Why? Because dubstep bagpipe music.

As I said in the last chapter, this was written in 2016. A lot of things have changed in the fandom since then, and I haven't been keeping up since… 2018, at the latest.

I'll see y'all next week Tuesday, unless you read my other fic for the Maze Runner fandom. Then I'll see you on Monday.