Author stuff: Fun fact, this story had many, many titles. And it was almost called "The Baker's Daughter". I settled on Noblesse Oblige because of its meaning. It is the duty and obligation of the nobility and/or ruling class has to act generously and honorably towards those less privileged. Basically, if you have privilege, you have a social obligation to help other people.

It's kind of a fanciful thought, but I heard it years ago in an anime and it's stuck with me since then. And it suits the story.

Chapitre cinq

Mothers Are Terrifying Creatures

Alya collapsed onto the floor, laughing harder than Marinette had ever seen her. She would lie there for a moment, trying to calm down, but then she would look at her friend or Chat Noir and burst back out into howling chortles. It was annoying.

Chat Noir sat on the floor, watching her. He tenderly rubbed his cheek. He reminded her of a kitten who had been kicked and left out in the rain after his tail had been stepped on one too many times.

And she, Marinette, slowly slunk back under the blankets, too embarrassed to do much of anything else. She would peek out from time to time, hoping for some drastic change or another. But nothing happened – other than the growing crowd of amused men and women who followed the outlaw. They formed a green and brown wall outside of the cell door.

She recognized most of their audience – people from the village and places nearby. She didn't doubt that Alya's obnoxious crowing had garnered their attention. They watched the scene play out raptly.

"Me-ouch, Princess," Chat Noir eventually said when Alya could only dry heave on the floor. "What was that about?"

"What was –?" she started to say, the rest of the words catching in her throat as the anger slowly bubbled to the surface. She threw off the blankets, glaring at him. "You honestly don't know?"

"I mean, I can take a few guesses –"

"You'll only need one."

She got up in his face. His green eyes grew wide, and he gulped. He ducked away shyly, drawing out snickers from their audience. She glared at them as well – they immediately quieted down, but they still looked rather amused by the whole thing.

"Look, if this is about the rope –"

"This is about more than just the rope – which, I hope you know, you are actually admitting to having taken. This is about my father." She winced as she felt her voice crack. There was a flicker of… something in his eyes. The crowd murmured awkwardly and disappeared, none of them wanting to be a part of the scene any longer. Even Alya sobered up.

"Your father," Chat Noir said. It was a statement, not a question. He was well aware of her situation, then. He knew her father was arrested.

"Yes, my father. You got him into this mess. Maman and I… Maman and I can work without his help, but it's difficult. We can't always rely on Alya and Nathaniel for help. They've done so much for us already. We need him back."

"And I'm the only one who can do it."

"And you are the only one who can do it." She nodded, her eyes never leaving his. He shifted his attention away from her for the first time since entering the room. She hoped he was mulling things over.

"I can't make any purr-omises," he said after a moment, "and I need some time to properly think it over – I'll need to distance myself from your beauty and grace. You are muddling my thoughts, you see. But I shall let you know the moment I arrive at my decision.

"Now, for another matter." He stood up and went to the chest just beyond the foot of the bed. He opened it up and shuffled some things around before withdrawing a hank of rope. He held it out to her. "This is to replace what I borrowed – and lost. I wish to make that up to you, in the very least."

She looked down at it in his glove-covered hand, noting the glint of a fine, silver ring on his finger. It could be well worth more than his bounty. It looked like a signet ring. She didn't get a proper look at it, however. The hank was dropped into her lap, and he walked away.

"I'll send for Nathaniel and a cart to escort you home. I cannot allow a princess such as yourself walk home alone on an injured paw."

And with that, he was gone.

Max and Nathaniel came and retrieved her from Chat Noir's lair (she really couldn't think of a better word for it, for what else could it be?). Alya helped her hobble out, leading the way through the maze of tunnels and once-abandoned-now-reconditioned jail cells. Most were empty, but a few people were inside. Everyone who saw their troupe greeted them cheerfully.

The cart was lined with a few sacks of flour and many blankets. ("Maman suggested them," Max said, shyly scratching the back of his neck.) Max's family had tethered their gelding to the front, allowing for an easier drive back home.

She was lifted up into the cart and settled on the blankets, wedged between several sacks. One of the spare ones was draped about her shoulders. Alya arranged her hair, patting her on the head when she was done before sitting down in front of her.

They took the long way back to Rochers, doubling back to the mill. It would take some time, but it would allow Marinette to think about everything she had said and done – the good and the bad. She groaned into her hands when she realized how she had treated Chat Noir.

"He's never going to help me now," she said, shaking her head miserably.

"Who isn't?" Max said, looking back at her.

"Who else? And why would he, after the way I yelled at him?" She slumped, defeated.

"I wouldn't worry about it right now," Nathaniel said, a little smirk growing on his face. It disappeared quickly, however. "We actually need to focus on what we're going to tell people. We can't just openly admit to what happened."

"He's right," Alya said, "we need a good story."

"We could just say we found her wandering out in the forest," Max said, looking over his shoulder at them.

"Can't say that," Marinette said. "I think the Sheriff's men followed me and heard me when I fell down a cliff."

"You fell down a cliff?" Alya said, gaping at her.

"Not a whole cliff, just the length of a big boulder. And, besides, I fell again later on."

Alya sighed, tossing her hands up in the air.

"We could say that we found her in with the gelding," Max said, nodding to the horse.

"But we'll pass right by the mill," Nathaniel said. "Anyone who's there when we trot on by with her in the cart will know that it's a lie."

"We could say we found her at the old mill," Alya said. "It's where we met after all. We could say that she was stressed about everything and needed a little time away to clear her head –"

"And she tripped on her trek there after sunset," Max said. "I can say that I saw a figure heading that way, and I didn't think much about it until Marinette was mentioned to be missing."

"Why are you talking as if I'm not here?" Marinette said, slumping lower.

"Sorry, Mari of the bluebells," Alya said, patting her friend's knee. "Does that plan sound okay with you, though? We don't want to get you in trouble with the Sheriff or anything. I mean, if he suspects that you're consorting with Chat Noir –"

"He'll have me arrested, too. I know."

"We could say that he kidnapped you," Nathaniel said, shrugging.

"Doesn't sound too crazy, knowing him," Alya said, snorting. Seeing her friend's confused look, Alya explained. "Chat Noir doesn't normally kidnap someone, but if he does it's usually for a good reason. With you, it'd be easy to believe, considering everything."

Marinette nodded, looking down at her hands. Her mind turned to all the work she missed that morning and –

"Maman!" she said, sitting up straight. She looked directly at Alya. "What about Maman? How was she when you left?"

"I was with you most of the night," she said. "Chat was worried and sent for me right away."

"Your mother was…" Nathaniel said, brows furrowing. "She's worried. Terrified, really. Sheriff didn't know what to do, in all honesty. He sent out a search party earlier this morning, but… Well, you know."

Marinette stopped listening. Her mother was worried. She was beside herself – something had undoubtedly happened, had she fainted and hurt herself? She would never forgive herself if something happened to her mother.

She hadn't realized they passed the mill and were approaching the village gates, the walls casting a looming shadow over the road leading up to them. It was the excited cries of people that brought her back to the moment.

By the time they reached her family's boulangerie, her mother was well aware of her having returned to Rochers. The roads of the bastide couldn't always be traversed by cart. Some – not counting alleyways – were too slim. So, they had to take a few detours in order to reach the boulangerie.

Sabine stood out front, waiting for them. Her eyes were red-rimmed as she scanned the faces, stopping on her daughter's with a relieved sigh. She held out her arms expectantly.

Nathaniel helped her out of her cart and over to her mother. Only when they embraced did he let her go.

"I'm sorry, Maman," Marinette said into her mother's shoulder. She held on tightly.

"Where have you been?" Sabine said, holding her daughter at arm's length.

"I was out at the old mill. I'm sorry. I just… With everything… I'm sorry."

"She needs to rest her ankle," Alya said. "You know her, clumsy as can be. Managed to sprain it on her way out. She also could use a good warming up. It was cold last night."

"And without your old cloak," Sabine said, rubbing her daughter's arms. "Right, let's get you inside. Come along now, dear."

Author stuff cont'd.: (jazz hands) This was mostly a filler chapter. I don't remember if anything important was in here, so I didn't want to cut it. We will know at the very end.

Haven't said this on here yet, but if you're on tumblr, come follow me at forgottenyogurtgods! Lots of nerdy fandom stuff, occasional writing updates, history and archaeology, and other nonsense.