Hello readers! Some Gabriel's pov to start this chapter sounds good, don't you think so?
Also, I'm going to publish twice or thrice a week from now on. Hope you don't mind and are excited about that. Good reading!
CHAPTER 6: The raven and the fox.
Gabriel sighed with exasperation and with a firm hand gesture, he propelled the cup of coffee which was on his desk to the ground, the cup smashing in pieces.
"Nathalie! Is it really too much to ask of you to look after an 18-year-old?"
"19, Sir. Adrien just turned 19."
Gabriel frowned and glared at his assistant. An icy, murderous glare. Normally, he would have remained unmoved. 18 or 19: it was the same. Adrien was still a teenager, producing hormones and testosterone in abundance and thinking only about eating, sleeping, fornicating and playing video games.
However, this was not "normal". It wasn't a normal day, nor a normal week, let alone a normal month. Gabriel was under more pressure than a pressure cooker. It wasn't hormones that were ready to make him implode, but magic. Miraculous magic.
For several weeks now, he had been overdosing, at least according to the translation of the grimoire he possessed. An overdose of power, linked to the use of the Butterfly and the Peacock's Miraculouses, which for a month had been getting worse and worse as the time went by. As the symptoms worsened: bitterness, impulsivity, depressive and melancholic phases, unjustified excesses of anger. Gabriel spent his time locked in his office, his nose buried in all sorts of old books. Without much result.
He had even spent a fortune to bring to Paris a Mongolian healer, a Shaman to be precise, but this attempt had also been a failure.
The crises were getting worse, and he couldn't control them anymore. He, who was usually so impassive, and unshakeable, was now a time bomb. As at this very moment in response to Nathalie's remark.
"Are you his mother?! NO, as far as I know! Besides, you aren't even helping me to bring her back!" he growled. "For two years I had to take care of you like a wounded animal, and now that you've recovered, you're still dragging your feet!" He spat his reproaches bitterly in his assistant's face as he swept everything that was on his desk with his hand. Sketches, pencils, tablet... He threw to the floor everything he had at hand.
Nathalie jumped and stepped back, her face pale and her eyes suddenly full of terror, when the door suddenly opened on a familiar figure: Adrien. The assistant pressed herself wordlessly against the wall to let him through, her expression still frozen with fear.
"Is everything all right?"" he began before stopping, looking at the mess in the room.
"Adrien! I'm sure I taught you to knock before entering!" Gabriel said, annoyed.
Adrien and Nathalie's eyes met, before the young man directed all his attention back to his father.
"You didn't teach me to knock out ladies!" he shouted, while guiding Nathalie out of the room.
"I didn't touch her!" Gabriel protested vividly. "How dare you tell such lies about your own father!" His voice was sharp and his gaze colder and harder than marble.
"You seemed ready to cross that line judging by your shaking hand and the mess around you!"
Indeed, the stylist was trembling, like a drug addict in rehab who needed his opiates. He took a firm step towards Adrien, not able to control anymore the excess of anger brought by the crisis, and stopped, his face a mere millimeter from his. "I dare you to repeat what you just said!"
He saw the moment the defiant glint in his son's eye shone through, and before Adrien could even open his mouth, Gabriel's hand slapped the boy's cheek.
"I will not tolerate any more disrespect in my house!" Gabriel firmly shouted. "Your impertinence and disobedience are the reason why Nathalie has just been reprimanded. If I find out you're sneaking out again, I'm pulling you out of the University and canceling your permission to see your friends! Have I made myself clear?!"
The hot, erratic breath that escaped through Adrien's nose whipped across Gabriel's face and gave him a glimpse of just how angry the young man was. Yet his son lowered his eyes to his feet and took a deep breath. "It's very clear, Mister Agreste," he answered bitterly, turning on his heel and slamming the door of the office.
Gabriel massaged his temples and sighed heavily. His son's recent rebellion didn't help the single father to keep his calm. Especially not when more violent and persistent symptoms were coming out. He collapsed into his chair and pressed a button under the desk.
"Yes, Sir," echoed a shaky voice from somewhere else.
"Nathalie, bring me another book. And a glass of Château Margaux Grand Cru." He released the pressure he was exerting on the button, before pressing his finger on it a second time. "Thank you," he added.
The crisis was over. For now.
"Jean de La Fontaine, born on July 8, 1621 in Château-Thierry and died on April 13, 1695 in Paris, is today the most known of the French poets of the 17th century, thanks in particular to his Tales and Fables. He brought the Fable to a degree of accomplishment that remains unsurpassed. Moralist, not moralizer, he takes a lucid look at human values." Ladybug was pacing up and down on a rooftop, a big dusty book in her hands, while she read to her partner.
"I know Jean de La Fontaine's biography, Milady. "
"But you didn't know that he was also the Guardian of the Miraculouses!"
"I think that's the fifteenth time you've told me that in two days," Chat Noir sighed.
"Sorry... I'm just looking forward to meeting him today. His Fables have rocked my entire childhood," she enthused with stars shining through her eyes.
The enthusiasm and the joy of the heroine pulled at the feline's heartstrings. He lowered his head without saying a word, his empty eyes staring at the lights of the city below.
"My favorite Fable was the grasshopper and the ant, and you, Chaton?"
Chat Noir clenched his fists: stirring up the joyful memories he'd shared with his dead mother, hours after a rather eventful altercation with his father, was deeply painful. Especially since he was sure he had read Fables with his mother, but he couldn't remember what was his favorite. Their favorite. Only the image of his father, furious, with a dark, mad look, blurred and invaded his mind.
"Chaton?"
Ladybug brought his thoughts back to terra firma, placing a hand on his shoulder and making him startle. When he looked up at her, he had to blink to chase away the tears that were pooling in his eyes.
"Oh... I'm so sorry... I forgot about... your mother... Forgive me, Chaton."
Of course: she knew that her partner was a motherless child. Over the years, they'd gotten to know each other a little better, always keeping a safe and reasonable limit.
The hero put his hand on Ladybug's and squeezed it gently." It's nothing. I just had...a hard day… and my emotions keep fluctuating," he explained in a weak voice. "I... My father... I had a violent altercation with him today and...I can still feel the anger boiling inside me. I'm doing my best to keep it under control right now," he admitted, gripping the heroine's hand tighter. "But I'm afraid I won't be able to hold back for long anymore." His voice faltered and broke as he confessed these last words.
"Come here," she said, opening her arms wide and giving him a tender and comforting smile.
"Are you... sure?" he asked, hesitating.
"Hurry up, before I change my mind, silly Minou," she sighed, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him against her. "I want you and I to try to leave here in a good frame of mind," she added.
Chat Noir hiccupped in surprise but made no resistance. He wrapped his hands behind his partner's waist and buried his nose in her hair, taking a deep breath filled with her sweet, soothing scent. The scent of vanilla and coconut, as well as the warmth he could feel coming from her, gracefully extracted a sigh of contentment and bliss from him.
Indeed, in the last few days, the two heroes had discovered that, apart from cold showers, positive emotions helped to soothe their crises or convoluted moods. It wasn't the answer to avoid the inevitable, but it likely helped reduce the intensity of the anger, or bitterness, they were feeling.
Curled up in his partner's arms, the feline could feel the feelings of revolt and disgust, which he had felt towards his father, slowly fade into a lost corner of his mind. The comforting presence of his partner, and especially her intoxicating proximity, managed to take the lead and to bring to him, for what he hoped to be some hours, a little respite.
They remained hugging for a few minutes before Ladybug moved back slowly, her breath caressing the neck, then the jaw, and finally, the lips of the hero. She dropped there a chaste, quick kiss, as light and airy as a feather. It was hardly a brushing of her flesh against his that lasted a fraction of a second, but it was enough to dissipate the dark fog that hovered over the feline's mind.
"The raven and the fox," he said, his voice barely a whisper carried away by the sound of the wind. "It was Maman's favorite Fable, and she read it to me very often," he added a little louder. "I really liked that one too."
Ladybug gave him a warm, affectionate smile before beginning to recite his favorite story.
"Perched on a lofty oak,
Sir Raven held a lunch of cheese;
Sir Fox, who smelt it in the breeze,
Thus to the holder spoke:
«Ha! How do you do, Sir Raven?
Well, your coat, sir, is a brave one!
So black and glossy, on my word, sir,
With voice to match, you were a bird, sir,
Well fit to be the Phoenix of these days»…"
"...Sir Raven, overset with praise,
Must show how musical his croak.
Down fell the luncheon from the oak;
Which snatching up, Sir Fox thus spoke:
«The flatterer, my good sir,
Aye lives on his listener;
Which lesson, if you please,
Is doubtless worth the cheese»…" he finished the story.
Chat Noir paused, laughing softly." I think Plagg would love that Fable too," he chuckled. "That little glutton would be up to any trick for good cheese."
Ladybug laughed out loud and the hero couldn't help but be carried away by a fit of giggles too.
Chat Noir silently watched Lady Bunny as she opened the portal that would lead them to the year 1670, to meet the famous fabulist, and Guardian of the Mother Box, Jean de la Fontaine.
He quickly followed his partner's footsteps, sneaking into the rabbit hole and emerging, almost instantly, in front of a yellowish, farmhouse-like building. The heroine hastened to drop the amalgam between her kwami and Fluff, then knocked on the door of the house.
The man who opened it for them a few moments later was rather tall, with long, curly brown hair and a prominent hooked nose. Their host frowned and studied them with an incredibly surprised calmness. Chat Noir could distinctly see the poet scrutinizing them from head to toe, without saying a word, before directing his gaze to the ring the hero wore, then to his partner's earrings.
"Come in, before curious people see you," he declared calmly after a long silence.
The two heroes complied, quickly entering the house of their host.
Chat Noir turned around, admiring the materials, furniture, decorations and paintings of the time, before Monsieur de La Fontaine's voice brought him out of his contemplation.
"Who are you and where do you come from, illustrious strangers, who carry these precious Miraculous? Speak, if you please."
It was the current Guardian who spoke. "I'm Ladybug and this is my partner, Chat Noir. We come from the future, from the year 2021 to be precise, where we are the holders of the Miraculous of Creation and Destruction," she introduced them seriously. "We're here to beg your help as Guardian, Sir de la Fontaine."
The poet raised an eyebrow but remained calm and collected. "You have traveled nearly 350 years back into the past to seek my knowledge? Is there no longer a Guardian in your time?"
"With all due respect Sir, I'm the Guardian."
If he was shocked or surprised, he didn't show it, remaining impassive.
"If you are the Guardian, dear young lady, I'm not telling you anything new when I say that a Guardian is strictly forbidden to wear a Miraculous," he said solemnly. "How could I possibly believe that you are the real Guardian knowing that you're standing in front of me with the Ladybug's jewel?"
Chat Noir's eyes widened, stunned by their host's words, and he turned to Ladybug, giving her an inquisitive look.
The heroine sighed, her shoulders slumping. "It was a unforseen transfer of power... The former Guardian and the Miracle Box were in danger and he had no choice," she explained in an overwhelmed voice. "I can prove to you what I'm saying. Can you get Tikki and Plagg out of the Miracle Box? Please, Sir?"
Jean de La Fontaine nodded ceremoniously and turned away from the two heroes to pick up an old bronze box, decorated with arabesques and golden illuminations. He turned around, chest in hand, and carefully opened it, revealing nineteen Miraculouses. He took out the Ladybug's earrings and the Black Cat's ring and Tikki and Plagg appeared.
"Tikki, Plagg, what do you think?" the fabulist asked, pointing to Ladybug and Chat Noir.
The little cat yawned and stretched before twirling around the feline hero and sniffing him.
Tikki gave Ladybug a big smile as she approached her. "I see a lot of wisdom and a great sense of responsibility," the little Ladybug said. "You are a Guardian, for sure, and an incredible Ladybug, but... your miraculous aura is weakened," Tikki murmured. "But I'm not teaching you anything new, am I?"
The heroine nodded, agreeing with the Kwami's words.
"That's why we're here," Ladybug explained. "We've got a problem."
Monsieur de la Fontaine remained impassive and thanked Tikki for her intervention, before turning to the Destruction's Kwami. "Plagg?" he asked, his voice stern.
"Mmh, Yes, yes. The costume is a bit frivolous but... very good recruit. Off balance too," he answered nonchalantly, obviously preoccupied with something more interesting. "What smells so good on you, kid? I can't find the source of this wonderful smell."
Chat Noir pouted, while Ladybug tried not to laugh beside him.
"You mean Camembert, I suppose?" the feline asked with a sigh.
"Camembert?" repeated Plagg, doubtful. "Is that what you call that divine aroma?"
Chat Noir raised an eyebrow. He was confused by the Kwami's reaction, who did not recognize his precious cheese.
"Camembert did not yet exist at this time. Some soft cheeses are close, but... it's not the same," Ladybug explained to enlighten her partner.
The hero's gaze returned to the Kwami who kept sniffing him and he patted him gently on the head. "You'll discover this later and you won't be able to live without it anymore."
"I'm sure you're right," Plagg replied, a little grumpy about not being able to taste it now. "It smells much better than the hard cheese imported from Switzerland."
The master of the house coughed, drawing the attention of his guests to himself. "Enough chatting. It's time to get straight to the matter now that I know I can trust you," he said seriously. "What is your name, dear guests?"
"Ladybug."
"Chat Noir."
The two heroes answered at the same time, their confused looks meeting in sync: they had already introduced themselves when they arrived, hadn't they?
For the first time since their arrival, the poet raised an eyebrow, his face finally reflecting an expression: incomprehension. "I already know your names as heroes. What I want to know is what your parents named you the day you were born."
To be continued...
Until Friday for next chapter, bug out!