You guys are awesome. Thank you so much to those of you who left a review, reading those is one of the best parts of writing this.

Classes are over for me (finally), so I have more time to focus on this story. Things are going to be picking up here soon, and I can't wait for you guys to read it!

Enjoy ;)

"Just take a swing at it."

Marinette turned skeptical eyes to Chat Noir, who stood with his arms crossed just to the side of the dummy.

"I won't know how to help you until I see you try." He nodded his head at the dummy. "Go for it."

They had taken the cloth off her sword, and she gripped it unsurely with both hands. She knew she needed help, but she felt a lot more comfortable messing up on her own rather than in front of the revolution's highest-ranking member. She knew he wouldn't judge her, but she couldn't help but feel self-conscious.

She glanced at Chat once more before raising the sword, trying to focus on a clean swing. With all her might, she swung downwards. As usual, the blade steered off course and nicked the burlap on the far side of the dummy.

She wasn't surprised, but it was still discouraging to mess up again. She let the tip of the sword drop to the ground. Chat looked between the sword and the dummy with a frown. Suddenly, his face lit up as an idea struck him.

"Here." He came around behind her and leaned over her shoulder, grabbing her wrists from behind.

Marinette started and turned her head to look at him, eyes slightly wide. "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to guide your hands." He leaned farther forward to see what he was doing, and just as he started lifting her wrists, he noticed her expression. "Is that okay?"

Marinette's throat was dry, and she tried to swallow. This position felt weirdly intimate; his chest was pressed firmly against her back, enough that she could practically feel his voice as he talked. His arms were wrapped around her shoulders, completely encompassing her.

Marinette chastised herself. He's only trying to help. Stop making it weird.

But as much as she wanted to keep a level head, she couldn't. It was probably because she barely knew him, so she wasn't sure she was comfortable enough to be this close with him. Not that she was uncomfortable...

She gave a tight-lipped smile. "Yeah, yeah it's fine."

He lifted her wrists so the sword was over their shoulders, and then he repositioned his hands to be on top of hers. "Now, I want you to swing again, just as you did before. Pretend I'm not here."

Easier said than done. She could feel his breath on her ear as he spoke, and she cleared her throat, trying to focus. She raised the sword, Chat's arms following the movement. She readied herself before swinging downward again. This time, the sword stayed steady and slashed a deep cut along the front of the dummy. Marinette's mouth dropped open.

Chat let go of her and stepped back, and she felt like she could breathe again. He came around to observe the slash, which had cut through the burlap and was about an inch deep. He turned to her, impressed, running a finger along the cut. "Look at that! That's dead center!"

Marinette felt a small surge of pride before it dissipated. She furrowed her eyebrows. "But I didn't do that. You did."

He shook his head. "All I did was take some of the weight for you. You did everything else."

Marinette stared at him blankly.

He took the sword from her. "Aiming isn't your problem. You have a good sense of the sword, but you can't generate enough force to swing it." He motioned for her to step aside. She did, and he took her place in front of the dummy.

"When you swing the sword like this," he swung it over his shoulder slowly, "it doesn't take much to move it, so it's easier to control. When you go a little faster," he swung it at a moderate speed, "it takes more force to get the sword around, and it becomes more difficult to control. The burlap is tough, so you have to swing it pretty fast to cut it." He assumed a starting position, and then he swung the sword in a quick, perfectly controlled slice. Marinette's mouth fell open again at how smooth it was. The cut was right above hers, but it looked to be at least another inch deeper.

Chat barely spared a glance at it. "You've got the control down. Your problem is getting enough force to swing the sword fast enough. That's why whenever you try, it feels heavier and you lose control."

Huh. That made sense. "So when you helped me, you were giving me more force to swing with?"

He nodded. "And that's why your practicing wasn't doing you any good. The swings aren't your problem, your strength is. So," he tossed the sword onto the ground and crossed his arms, "we need to get you some upper body strength."

Marinette wrinkled her nose. She hated arm exercises with a burning passion. Sure, she had a bit of muscle endurance from carrying around bags of flour in the bakery, but strength training of any kind in her upper body was always a nightmare.

"Great," she said unenthusiastically. Just thinking about exercising right now made her ten times more tired than she already was.

Chat surveyed her exhausted face. "How about we call it a night? Pick this up in the morning? I bet you could use some sleep."

Marinette nodded, grateful that he wouldn't make her start any training tonight. They grabbed the dummy and the sword, and as Chat went around extinguishing the torches, a thought came to her.

"Can't someone else train me?" He paused in front of a torch and turned towards her. She realized how insensitive that sounded and rushed to correct herself. "I mean, you're probably really busy. It's only extra exercise I need..."

Chat said nothing for a moment before he shrugged. "My schedule just opened up. I don't mind." He went back to the torches.

Marinette didn't think before she spoke. "Because of Squad D?" she blurted.

Chat froze, and his eyes darted over to her again. This time there was something else in his expression, something she couldn't identify. He masked it quickly with his normally cheery face.

"Yeah," he said simply. He turned away from her again, and although Marinette wanted to press him further about it, she knew she couldn't, not without looking incredibly nosy. It's not like he would talk about it, anyway.

Chat chatted her ear off the whole walk back, and by the time she got in bed, the only thing she was thinking about was his reaction to her mentioning Squad D. He seemed like such a talkative person, maybe even an over-sharer, but when she brought up something she was actually interested in, he went quiet.

She shouldn't be surprised. She joined, what, three weeks ago? Why would he share anything important with her? They just met.

She was getting ahead of herself. She needed to be patient. If she rushed this, she would look suspicious. Marinette felt grateful actually; this was the perfect opportunity to get closer to Chat Noir. Perhaps if she could build some trust between them, he would feel comfortable sharing more with her, and then she could tell him about her true intentions here.

She closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep. For once, she didn't feel anxious. Instead, she felt content, like she was finally headed in the right direction.

"Psst."

Marinette stirred in her sleep before going still again. A finger prodded her shoulder. She furrowed her eyebrows and snuggled deeper into her pillow, trying to chase after her dream before she lost it. She barely registered hearing a small sigh before something poked her cheek. She cracked an eye open.

Chat was crouched down beside her bed, looking bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. "Morning, sleepyhead," he whispered. "Time for training."

Marinette closed her eye again. "Just a little longer," she mumbled, pulling her covers up higher. She began drifting back to sleep, but then Chat reached out and flicked her forehead. She flinched and her eyes shot open. She raised a hand to her forehead, half to comfort the sting there and half to protect it from any further attack.

"Come on. Up you go." Chat helped her sit up, which meant she did nothing while he hauled her upright. He ushered her over to the washbasin and then went to wait outside while she changed and washed her face. She was much more awake by the time she finished applying a fresh layer of paint over her eyes. Marinette tied the cloth over her mouth as she walked out of the tent to meet Chat.

He watched her finish the knot with a curious expression. "Doesn't that make it harder to breathe?"

"Yeah," she said as they started walking. "I suppose I would be better off without it, but I have to wear it."

"To hide the fact that you're a girl?"

"Mhm." It sucked to be suffocated every time she exerted herself, but she would rather deal with the discomfort than risk her position in the army.

Chat hummed to himself. "Well, if you'd like, you don't have to wear it while we train. Nobody will see you anyway, and I'd prefer you get some air."

"I hope that doesn't imply the training will be hard," she said, expecting he'd laugh it off and say it wouldn't be so bad. Instead, he said nothing. She glanced over at him. He was staring up at the sky with a merry smile, hands clasped behind his back and pretending she had said nothing.

She blew out a puff of air. Great.

He took her back to the North Training Grounds, where a few of the tents they passed had lights on in them. "So you're not the only one crazy enough to get up before dawn?" she teased.

He laughed. "I probably am. These guys have to get up for patrol." A soldier exited his tent up ahead, and Chat rose a hand to give a short wave. The soldier reciprocated it before heading off in another direction.

Marinette watched him go before addressing Chat. "Patrol?"

They reached the woods again, and he gestured to the surrounding trees. "We usually have a few dozen Northern soldiers out at a time, walking around the base in the forest in case something happens and they need to warn us about it. For instance, they probably saw you and Rena Rouge coming in."

Huh. Interesting.

They reached the Training Grounds, and he led her off to the left. Instead of continuing towards the posts, he stopped at a nearby shed and waved for her to follow him inside. When she walked in, the first thing she noticed was how much stuff was crammed into the small space. There was barely enough room for her to walk as he brought her towards the back. They passed beat-up dummies and swords and bamboo sticks until they reached a mound of rocks in a corner. He grabbed a couple of buckets and filled them with the rocks. He handed one back to Marinette.

The bucket was a lot heavier than she was expecting, so the moment he let go of the handle, she caved under the weight and dropped it to the floor.

"Ah, that's right, upper body strength," Chat said. "Well," he turned away and filled up another bucket, "then this can count as your first exercise." He grabbed a long wooden pole and walked back to the door. "Coming?"

Marinette gave him a perplexed look. How was she supposed to carry this if she could barely lift it? She stared down at the bucket before steadying her feet on either side of it. She grabbed the handle and used all her might to heave it up. Her arms and back strained from the force. The handle dug into her palms, but she did her best to ignore it as she waddled over to where Chat stood. By the time she reached him, her arms were shaking. Suddenly, they gave out, and the bucket fell to the floor again with a loud thud. She let out a huff as she panted from the exertion.

Chat gently placed his bucket on the floor next to him, which he'd been holding with one arm the entire time. He reached over to test the weight of her bucket, considering it before putting it down again and transferring some of her rocks over to his bucket. "There, now try it."

Marinette composed herself before hoisting the bucket up again. It was easier to lift, but her arms still struggled with the weight.

"Here." Chat took the bucket from her. "Hold out your arms." She did, and he placed the bucket in them so she was supporting it from the bottom. "This probably won't hurt your hands as much."

They continued to the edge of the forest, Chat casually holding his bucket like it was nothing and Marinette taking intermittent breaks to rest her arms. A few agonizing minutes later, they reached the clearing from last night, and Marinette wasted no time in dropping the bucket to the ground and collapsing next to it. She grabbed the cloth in front of her face and pulled it off, flinging it onto the grass beside her.

"Done already? We haven't even started," Chat appeared above her with an amused smirk.

Marinette swatted the air. "Shut up."

They worked for the next hour. Chat hung the buckets on both ends of the pole and filled them with a few rocks each, just enough for Marinette to complete a few reps of whatever exercise they were doing. They did bicep curls, shoulder presses, lateral raises, pushups, tricep extensions, everything. Chat was a tough trainer, and he made sure she got the most out of each rep. No matter how much she cursed at him, he kept pushing her.

After she completed each set, he went back to his encouraging self and would tell her how great she was doing. Despite how much she hated his guts mid-exercise, he always made her feel proud of herself once she finished.

She pushed out the last rep of her last set, and Chat quickly took the buckets from her before she dropped them. She collapsed in a heap on the ground. "Fantastic job, M'Lady," Chat praised.

She raised her head to look at him. "Really?" she said between pants. "M'Lady?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. Would you prefer Madam?" he said with a teasing smirk.

She rolled her eyes. "Call me Madam and I'll start calling you Mr. Noir."

He wrinkled his nose. "Mr. Noir? God, I'm not your schoolteacher. M'Lady it is then." If Marinette wasn't so exhausted, she probably would have protested more, but she didn't. She went to drop her head again, but then Chat held out his fist. "Pound it?" he said.

She couldn't feel either of her arms, but she tried to lift her hand anyway. It swayed before she gained enough control to press her knuckles to Chat's. "Pound it." Not a second later her arm dropped like a dead weight. She dropped her head too and closed her eyes.

She heard Chat walk a few steps away, humming to himself. "Damn, no sunrise today. It's too cloudy." A sigh. "What a shame."

Her regular training that day was hell. She was extra weak from her session with Chat that morning, and her irregular sleep patterns from the last few weeks didn't help either. Rhino was unrelenting with his comments as usual, but he was different. Ever since Chat told him off, Rhino had been overcompensating, as if trying to prove there wasn't a large dent in his pride when there most certainly was.

Marinette got the best sleep she had in a while that night. Chat woke her up the next morning, and her training proceeded as it did the previous morning. Unfortunately for her, whatever she had made up in sleep was negated by the unbearable soreness in her arms.

"Stretch it out, M'Lady. Get the blood flowing."

They stood facing each other while Chat did various arm stretches. Marinette mirrored him, albeit slower and stiffer as she was not at all flexible right now.

"If I'm being honest," she made a face when a particular stretch hurt a bit too much, "you're the first person to call me that in a while."

"What? M'Lady?"

"Yeah." Chat swung his arms back and forth, and she copied him.

He cocked his head to the side. "Can't imagine you've met many polite people then."

She hadn't now that she thought about it. The only people she interacted with before the revolution were people she had known her entire life, so they all called her by name. Other than them, the royal guards were the ones she met most frequently, and they were the farthest from polite.

"No, I guess I haven't."

Chat said nothing. Instead, he finished the stretches with her and proceeded with the training.

For the next couple of weeks, this was their routine. The first few days were difficult as Marinette adjusted to the new workouts, but by the end of the week, she was falling into a rhythm.

Marinette preferred their private sessions from her usual group training, not only because there was a lack of prying eyes, but also simply because of Chat. She was never one to like exercising, but Chat's presence made it so she didn't mind it as much. He was calming and patient with her, and she found herself wanting to try harder just to see the giant grin he always gave her when she accomplished something.

Chat seemed to enjoy their training sessions too, although it was hard to tell since he was always in a good mood whenever she saw him. They usually spent more time talking than training, but she wasn't complaining. Conversation flowed easily between them, and they often lost track of time when they were together. It had been a while since she'd found someone she could do that with.

One morning after training, she ranted to him about Rhino, and he did his best to offer solutions.

"We could put him in another group if you want. I have no problem arranging something if he's too much."

Marinette shook her head as they came out into the North Training Grounds. It was light out now, and they passed by a few soldiers doing their morning runs. Chat waved at them. "I don't want to make a fuss about it. Thanks for the offer, though."

They continued walking, and it wasn't until they reached the Center Compound that Marinette realized Chat hadn't broken away yet. Usually, he disappeared once they reached the North's tents.

"Are you walking me back today?" Marinette asked. "You're quite the gentleman."

"I know, I am a gentleman, but I also have business in the South. I'm training some recruits."

"Sure," Marinette raised her fingers in air quotes, "training. Based on what you did with my troop, I think you just wanted to play tag today."

Chat scoffed. "Please, I can play tag whenever I want." He glanced over at her mischievously. "For instance," he slapped her arm, "tag, you're it," and he booked it down the path in front of her.

Marinette stood dumbstruck for a moment. As soon as her mind recovered though, she took off after him. Up ahead, he turned to run backward and raised a hand, pretending to yawn. Marinette narrowed her eyes. Was he challenging her?

Fine. Game on.

When she started gaining on him, he turned back around and ran forward at full speed. To Marinette's surprise, she kept up with him. A few weeks ago when she first played tag with him and her troop, nobody came near his swiftness. Now, as they weaved around the confused people of the Central Compound, she followed his movements without lagging too far behind.

They reached the trees, and Chat, the asshole, dove past the path and into the woods. She faltered for a second, nearly following after him, before deciding to continue down the path. Chat would run slower in the forest. If she could catch up to him out here, then maybe she could cut him off.

She ran as hard as she could before veering off into the forest. She jumped over a fallen tree and landed only a few feet to the left of Chat Noir. He stumbled slightly, surprised by her appearance, and that was all she needed. She dove to the side and grabbed his arm, however, she hadn't thought of the aftermath of catching him. She crashed into his side, and they both started stumbling. Marinette tipped forward, and Chat swooped an arm down to keep her from face planting, but the quick movement caused him to lose more of his balance.

Before either of them knew it, they were falling over each other, bouncing and rolling onto open grass. She landed on top of Chat, who grunted from the impact. They were still for a few seconds as they reeled from the fall, the adrenaline wearing off.

She lifted her head from Chat's shoulder. He looked just as dazed as she felt, but when his eyes landed on her face, he suddenly became alert. He grabbed her hips and rolled them over. "Chat-" she exclaimed, but she was cut off by the impact of her back hitting the grass. The sun above nearly blinded her.

The sun? But weren't they in the woods? Unless…

Marinette heard distant voices, men shouting to wake up their troop members, and suddenly she understood. They had landed in the South Training Grounds, and she wasn't wearing her mask. Chat fumbled in her front pocket, looking for it.

"Shit," she muttered, scrambling to grab the cloth from Chat. He rolled off her, and she sat up. He moved to sit behind her and block her from the field while she ducked her head and tied the mask in place. "Did anyone see?"

He scanned the area. "I don't think so. We're too far away." He squinted at the far end of the field. "Although I'm pretty sure some people saw us fall."

She glanced around to gauge just how many people had seen, but was relieved there were only a few troop leaders on the opposite side of the field. Marinette's panicked expression relaxed, and she leaned back on her hands.

Would it have been so bad if she was outed as a girl? Sure, she might not be accepted or treated fairly, but Rhino already covered that regardless. She was used to his behavior now, but she had a feeling if Rhino knew she was a girl things would get ten times worse, especially if the rest of her troop members started looking down on her too.

"Hey, Chat?" He looked back at her. Marinette reached down and started mindlessly pulling on the grass. "What would have happened? If people saw me just now?"

He pressed his lips together in thought. "Well, I'm not sure. It hasn't happened before since you're the first girl to sneak in, but I know these guys. I don't think you'd be able to train here anymore."

"Here as in the training grounds or here as in the army?" Marinette continued to fiddle with the grass.

Chat's face turned slightly serious. "Look at me."

She glanced up and met his eyes. They had an intense look in them, like he was willing her to understand something important.

"Male or female, you are part of this army. You're an incredible soldier, and from the way you've been working the last few weeks, you belong here. If those guys can't accept that, that's their problem. If anything happens, though, if this place becomes too hostile, you come find me, and I'll find you a place to train. Okay?"

Even from behind the veil, his eyes felt like they were staring right into her soul, and she couldn't look away. She felt herself nodding, but her mind was far from her body.

Why does he care?

She would admit that Chat coming across her in the field the first time they met was a coincidence, and so was him training her troop the next morning, but what about when he showed up to personally train her? What about when he offered up his mornings? For what? To help a rookie soldier tone up her arms? Most of their training sessions were just him coaching her through workouts, so it's not like he had to train her. Hell, she could probably do it on her own.

She didn't think he had any ulterior motives, not like she did, but that only made her even more confused. Was he just a nice guy? If he was, why wasn't he training anybody else? As far as she knew, she was the only one he was working with one-on-one regularly.

More people started making their way onto the field, so they got up and walked to the tents. They parted ways, and as she went to join her troop, she knew one thing for sure: Chat Noir was an enigma, one that maybe one day she would figure out.

Marinette couldn't help herself. Throughout the day she wasn't at all focused on her training. Her eyes kept wandering over to where Chat worked with the recruits. She wouldn't say she was jealous or anything, it was just that seeing him teach another group made her feel strangely left out. No offense to Nino, but she wished Chat was leading their troop today.

The group he was working with sucked anyway. Every time he tried to interact with them, they would just stand and stare at him. All of Chat's witty puns and conversation starters were met with silence, while Marinette was bursting with responses from afar. It hurt her soul to see so much potential banter go to waste, but as much as she wanted to go over there, she couldn't leave her troop. She couldn't risk Chat teasing her about eavesdropping either.

When lunch came, she expected Chat to disappear like he had the day he trained her troop, but to her surprise, he ran up next to her as she walked back to the tents.

"Sheesh, tough crowd," he said.

Marinette looked at the recruits walking like zombies nearby. "Maybe a game of tag will cheer them up?"

"I brought it up to them and nobody seemed to care." He gave a grumpy pout, and Marinette fought to keep a smile off her face. Chat was a grown man, yet here he was, genuinely upset that nobody wanted to play tag with him.

"Poor kitty. How about you go eat lunch with them? Try to bond with them?"

"No," he said quickly. "I don't want to. They can eat by themselves." He crossed his arms in a huff, and a laugh finally escaped Marinette. He was acting like such a child.

They reached the food tables and joined the queue of soldiers. As they made their way through and gathered their food, the women greeted Chat with a bit of surprise.

"Chat Noir! What are you doing over here?" one woman asked.

"I'm training a troop. How are you, Edith?"

"I'm fine, thank you, but since when do you eat over here? I don't think I've ever seen you come through one of these lines."

This piqued Marinette's interest a bit, and she glanced over at Chat.

He shrugged it off. "I'm just really hungry, that's all."

They moved along the line to the fruit baskets, and as Marinette surveyed a few oranges, she saw Chat stop at a basket in her peripheral. She didn't think much of it until she went to walk along the table again and she nearly ran into him. She stopped and looked up. Chat was standing in place, holding an apple and staring at it blankly.

She waited a moment, but when she realized he wasn't going to move, she tapped his shoulder. "Chat?"

He snapped out of it and looked at her. Her gaze flicked between him and the apple, a silent question asking if he was going to take it or not. He plastered a smile on his face and held it out. "Apple?"

She glanced down at it and shook her head. "I'm okay, thanks."

He nodded, considered it once more, and placed it back in the basket. He grabbed a pear and continued through the line. Marinette watched him go, slightly confused, before following him.

They went to her troop's communal area, and as she made her way to her usual tree, Rhino spotted Chat. He roughly shoved a soldier moving to sit in the seat next to him. "Don't," he said in a low voice, and the soldier backed off. Rhino schooled his expression before waving his arm over his head. "Hey! Chat Noir! There's a spot over here!"

The rest of the soldiers in the group noticed Chat as well, and they waved him over too. Chat had most definitely seen what Rhino had just done, and he smiled politely. "No no, that's okay. Let him sit there. I'll find another spot."

That wasn't the response any of them were expecting, and they watched in silence as Chat followed Marinette and took a seat next to her under the tree.

He sighed loudly as he sat down, and then he looked up at the sky and frowned. "Damn it, why is it cloudy all of a sudden?" He grabbed his pear and took a bite out of it. "Today is just not my day…"

Marinette caught Rhino's eye; he was looking between her and Chat with narrowed eyes, and she shifted uncomfortably. When Rhino was making comments and being as loud as he normally was, he was surprisingly easy to ignore. But right now, while the rest of the soldiers chatted together, Rhino silently stared at her and Chat, and it did nothing but make her feel uneasy.

Someone walked up to the tree, and Marinette broke her gaze from Rhino. "Hey, Nino," Chat said through a mouthful.

Nino frowned. "Carapace. At this point you're doing it on purpose."

Chat swallowed and smiled innocently. "Rena started it, but by all means, you can do it right back at me."

Nino rolled his eyes, and Marinette sat up a little. "Why don't you?"

"He can't," Chat said. "He doesn't know my name."

Marinette's eyebrows rose, slightly surprised. She didn't know why she assumed Nino knew who Chat was. Maybe it was because she and Alya and Nino knew each other's identities, and since Chat knew their identities, she figured they knew his as well.

Chat took notice of Marinette's shock. "Surprised?"

"A little, yeah. Does anybody know who you are?"

"Nope," he said, popping the p.

Marinette was having trouble comprehending this. Chat had been running the revolution for five years and not one person knew who he was? "Why?"

Chat pretended to swipe dust from his shoulders. "What can I say, I'm a pretty big deal. Gotta stay a mystery."

Marinette rolled her eyes, and then a thought struck her. "Oh wait, it's to protect your family, right? In case word gets out."

Chat's smile dropped, and although he replaced it quickly, it was forced. He shrugged. "I have my reasons, plain and simple, that's all you need to know." Chat grabbed his fork and began eating, effectively conveying that their conversation was done.

Marinette was slightly taken aback by the abrupt end, but she didn't say anything else. They finished their meal and walked back to the training grounds together before parting.

She thought over what happened. She didn't think she was pressing too much. In fact, she wasn't pressing at all. The main reason everybody wore masks in the revolution was to protect their families, so it was easy to assume Chat was doing the same. Why did he clam up then?

Chat appeared to be an open book, but it was becoming more and more clear to her that he was far from it. The first time he shut down on her was when she brought up Squad D, which was understandable. The troop was supposed to be secret, and she wouldn't expect him to spill anything important to her.

However, she couldn't think of any reason why Chat would go quiet on why he hid his identity. His silence made it seem like there was something else other than just wanting his name out of the hands of the royals, something that he wouldn't share with anyone.

As with every day she spent with Chat, every answer she got from him prompted a million more questions, leaving her trying to sort through them all.

I kind of want a regular thing to do in these chapters, so from now on I'm going to be adding the next chapter title at the end as a sort of preview.

Next chapter: "Your Majesty"