Author stuff: Hey, y'all! This is a little prequel fic for Noblesse Oblige. It's just some background that I wrote to kind of give me an idea how Marinette and Alya became friends in this AU.
You don't have to have read Noblesse Oblige to understand this fic, but if you like this, you might want to check it out. It's a Robin Hood AU set in 1350-ish France in a place of my own creation, Ville sur les Rochers.
Give Me a Break
Market Day had to be her favorite day of the week. It meant that, not only did she not have any reading or writing lessons, but she also didn't have to help her family in the bakery.
She couldn't think of anything she wanted to do more than dash between the various booths and see what kind of sweetmeats the vendors would be offering. She liked comparing them to the treats her father liked to make for her, her mother, and himself on the holidays.
(The general consensus? His sweetmeats were better.)
She was on her way to the fair grounds where the market was always held when she stopped, seeing quite a few people outside the new tavern.
No one had been expecting it to be open quite yet. Which was why there was quite the kerfuffle outside. A string of pretty girls were hassling people to come inside for a taste of the ale and wine they were offering.
She admired the girls' symmetrical faces and lovely hair. Not to mention how loud their voices carried over the crowd.
It wouldn't hurt to take a peek, she thought. Although, she'd go and see what they had decided to do with the building after she purchased some sweetmeats.
The handful of vendors that offered any kind of sweets weren't as plentiful as they were during the festivals or holidays, but there were still no less than four that offered something that made her toes curl in delight.
She cradled the small purse of the sweets, smiling giddily down at them. She wasn't sure what type of fruits they had used in these ones, but the vendor had told her the price was worth it.
Not to mention she had seen the Vicomte's daughter purchasing a few sweetmeats. And she always had a good taste in treats — although Marinette wouldn't say that to her face.
She had opted to take the main road back rather than cut through the fields like she had on her way there, enjoying the pleasant breeze, contrasting with the steady warmth of the sun and the delicate shade the trees provided.
She was so wrapped up in her own little world that she didn't notice the group of kids until she was nearly upon them. Marinette recognized them. They were older boys from one of the nearby towns. She saw them at every Market Day and festival. And they always had some snide comment or anything.
Thankfully, their cruel remarks were pointed to her.
Marinette bit her lip and debated whether or not to hide behind a tree until they were gone.
"What a dummy," said one of the boys, kicking at something — someone on the ground.
"Yeah," said another boy. "Who does she think she is? Coming over and demanding that we go to her family's tavern."
"I wasn't demanding," the person on the ground said. "I was asking if —"
"Don't lie, idiot." The first boy kicked at her again.
She frowned, tucking the purse of sweetmeats into a hidden pocket in the folds of her skirts. She wasn't much for liars, but she didn't think this girl was lying to the older boys. In fact…
She swiped up a pinecone and chucked it at one of the boys, hitting him on the side of the head.
"Who you calling a liar?" she said, jutting her chin out.
The full wrath of the five boys turned on her all at one, taking in her size compared to them. This was most likely going to end rather nasty.
"It's just the baker's kid," said one of the boys.
"Yeah, not much of a challenge," said the first boy, cracking his knuckles.
If he was hoping to intimidate her, it was working.
"Why are you even bothering her?" Marinette said. "What'd she do to you?"
"Told us to go check out her family's tavern. Everyone knows folks like her kind never run good businesses."
Marinette frowned. Taking in the girl, with her busted lip and fiery gaze, she didn't see anything out of the ordinary in her.
"What do you mean?"
"An all-women run tavern? Nothing good happens there."
"I told you," the girl said, rising from the ground, "my father is on his way —"
"Pretty sure that's a lie," the second boy said.
"It's not a lie!"
"Yeah, whatever."
"If she says it's not a lie," Marinette said, stepping closer to them, "then it's not a lie."
She squared her shoulders and rose to her full height. The second boy, who seemed to be the leader of the group, met her in the middle.
"Come on, Tumas," said one of the other boys, grabbing his arm. "Let's just go. You don't need to fight everyone."
The boy, Tumas, sneered at Marinette before brushing past her to make it to the fairgrounds. The other boys followed after him, two of them bumping their shoulders with hers.
Marinette was about to say something when the other girl got to her feet and chucked a rock at Tumas. She watched in horror as it struck the side of his head.
He whirled around, eyes blazing. Two of the boys moved to stop him, but he brushed them off, storming over to the girl. Marinette moved to get between them but was brushed aside. The rocks on the road scratched against her palms, breaking the skin.
She hissed, examining the damage. Her hands were going to need a good rinse, she could tell that. Her palms pulsed in time with the beat in her ears.
Her attention was drawn back to the situation at hand, Tumas and the other girl had started an all out brawl.
Without much thought, Marinette leapt back into action. She managed to pry the girl away from Tumas, who was being pulled back by the two boys. The others took the chance to strike at her. Their hits were nothing compared to the claw-like nails of the other girl that gripped her arm. It was a surprise that they hadn't broken skin.
Marinette did not see who hit her, but they had sent her stumbling into the ditch on the side of the road. There was an audible crack of breaking twigs — except it wasn't twigs. She realized that when she sat up and her arm ached.
She gave a cry when she moved just right. Her bones had broken.
"God's piss, Jean," said one of the boys.
"Sard it."
"Run!"
Marinette watched as the boys left, leaving her and the other girl. The girl frowned down at her for a moment before carefully picking her way down the ditch.
"Do you know anyone who can mend bones?" the girl said, carefully helping Marinette to her feet.
"I know a few," she said, "but I think they're all at the market. We can try the parish church."
The girl nodded.
Together, they made their way along the road until the distance between the lowest point of the ditch and the side of the road was no more than their ankles. The careful trudge into down was relatively quiet, except for when Marinette jostled her arm just so.
By the time they made it to the parish church, the sun was two hours away from setting. They were lucky that Brother Fu was tending to the garden. He took one look at Marinette and gestured for them to go inside.
He led them to a quiet room just inside. It was lined with shelves and trunks and cupboards. There were a few stools and chairs around a table. Marinette took one of the stools, while the other girl leaned against a cupboard. The room smelled of something sweet and dust.
"Mind telling me what happened?" he said, finding a splint and bandages in one of the cupboards. He worked quickly as the other girl spoke.
"Some boys from the next town over didn't like that my family opened up the new tavern in town," she said. "My papa is finishing up a few things with the guild, and the boys didn't like that he's not here with us right now. And then she comes along and tries to get them to stop, and they didn't, and she was pushed into a ditch. Who does that? Pushing someone into a ditch."
"I don't like liars and bullies," Marinette said.
"Marinette has always been this way," Brother Fu said. "This isn't her first time coming here for something like this, though it is her first broken bone. Surprised it's taken this long."
He gave her a warm smile, his eyes glittering with pride.
"There," Brother Fu said, withdrawing a strip of fabric to act as a sling. He knotted it and slipped it over her neck. He helped her comfortably rest her arm in the sling. "All done."
The other girl blinked.
"That was… fast."
He smiled and pat her on the head. He got to his feet and paused in the doorway.
"I believe you two are old enough to see yourselves out? And Marinette, don't think this excuses you from your lessons."
He gave a chuckle at Marinette's groan, turning and disappearing down the hallway somewhere.
"What kind of lessons?" the girl said.
"Reading and writing," Marinette said.
"You can read and write?"
"The late duchess wanted kids her son's age to be able to read and write with him. Only two of us still taking the lessons."
"Seriously?"
"Um, yes?"
The girl looked her over, her face neutral.
"Those boys called you the baker's kid," she said after a moment.
"I am, yeah," Marinette said, nodding. "My maman and papa run the only boulangerie in all of Rochers."
"It's nice to meet you. I'm Alya."
"Marinette." She moved to shake Alya's hand, but the hand she went to use was the one that had broken. That earned her a little laugh. Instead, she withdrew the little purse of sweetmeats and offered them up. "They might be a little broken but…"
Alya took the purse from her and set it on the table, taking out two healthy sized chunks of the sweet meat. (Marinette could see there was some kind of dried fruit pressed into it.)
"I think we've both had worse."
Alya gave her a wide smile, tapping her chunk with Marinette's. Together, they snacked on the sweetmeats until one of the monks found them and kicked them out.
This had to have been the best Market Day Marinette had had in years.
Author stuff cont'd.: And that's how you make a friend!