Due, in part to my love of historical fantasy, I have decided to create a story based on Paris, France, during the early 15th Century. Due to this, some of the historical aspects of this time period will be the same; any construction and the years finished, the look, feel, and smells of the city. One place where I will deviate will be the names of characters (This is a Miraculous fan-fiction) although I will endeavor to keep the original soul/beliefs of the characters the same. With that said, I hope you enjoy the story! Oh, and the first person to tell me via PM the secret of this first chapter will get an OC (or a plotline) added as an important character (or quest) to a later chapter.

A New Beginning

Adrien looked left, then right, as he entered the town proper. Merchants called out their wares while people flocked around to purchase everything from food, to jewelry, and even clothes at the various stalls in the main market. The previous night's rain left the side roads a muddy mess, while the main thoroughfare was paved in cobblestone. Ensuring his cloak remained around his shoulders, hiding his noble vestments from view, he also kept the hood up, lest he be discovered and the guards alerted.

Before too long, a heavenly aroma wafted into his nose, and he found himself turning in that direction. It was when he saw the trio at the bakery that his eyes stopped. The father, a massive man who looked as though he could break Adrien over his forearm, pulled a hot tray from the oven with a wooden spatula nearly the same size as him. A much smaller woman smiled amicably at the customers, taking money and setting it in the till, before being approached by the next person in line. It was the younger woman that caught his attention the most as she moved about, grabbing up the order, and handing it to each person as they paid for their purchase.

Cute was an understatement when describing the girl! A pair of bluebell eyes shone with mirth and affection as she gave every customer a dazzling smile, making the freckles that crossed her nose and cheeks stand out even more. Her hair was done up in a pair of pigtails, with ribbons dropping down to her slender shoulders. "Good morrow, Marinette." a customer jovially called out, and she smiled at the elderly man. It was then that he saw exactly what the young woman was wearing.

Due partially to the fact that there had been so many customers, he hadn't seen the light blue dress covered over at the top with a black bodice until she stepped around the counter to approach the elderly gentleman. "Good morrow, Mister Fu. Did you come for your usual?" she asked, and Adrien's heart skipped a beat at the simple sound of her voice.

Everyone watched, some with a hint of jealousy, as the young woman hugged the elderly man. He just seemed to nod and she went back to obtain his order. It wasn't long before he was in front of her mother, paying for his food, before Marinette returned. She seemed to whisper something to the old man, but Adrien was too far away to hear anything. The line had gone down, and he checked his purse to ensure that he had enough for something to eat. Pulling out a single silver, he looked at the slate that advertised the price of their baked goods. It wasn't enough.

For a few minutes he just stood there, staring, before finally deciding to pass the place by. "Are you hungry?" the older woman asked with a smile.

Grumbles from his stomach answered for him. 'Why did I skip the morning meal?' he mentally chastised. "Yes, but... I don't have enough." he answered, opening his hand. Showing the single silver piece, the woman smiled brightly to him.

His mouth dropped open as the woman looked at her daughter. "Put a couple of croissants into a bag for the young gentleman." she instructed the girl. "No one goes hungry if I have any say." Watching as Marinette pulled a pair of the flaky pastries up, and set them in a cheese cloth bag, she handed them to him. The moment his hand touched hers, it was like an electric jolt and he nearly pulled his hand away.

In her eyes he could see that she felt it as well, before Marinette deposited the sack into his hand. "Thank you." He handed over the coin, and shook his head. "I will repay your kindness for this, Miss?"

Just as he asked, she chuckled. "Sabine, and this is Tom, my husband." She motioned to the large man behind her who smiled jovially, waving at the young man. "This is our daughter, Marinette." Her daughter, for her part smiled up at him and placed her hands behind her back, her legs moving slightly so that it wiggled her hips. "What's your name, young man?"

Keeping his hands on the bag, he turned to Sabine. "My name is..."

Like every time before, he heard the voice of Nathalie behind him. "Adrien Agreste!" Her tone was nearly as sharp as the rapier she wore on her hip, and he visibly flinched at the sound of his own name. Marinette's eyes went wide, and she backed up to where she was behind the counter. Sabine looked from him to the woman as she approached. Dressed in a pair of loose black breeches, black boots that stopped just below her knees, a black vest with a gold and red crest over her left breast was accented by the white blouse with flowing sleeves, and black fencer's gloves. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail that dropped to her shoulders. "This is the fifth time you've snuck out..."

Mortified by the looks the trio of bakers gave him, he turned to face the woman. "Don't you mean "escaped", Nathalie?" he bit back, glowering at her. Pulling his hood down, everyone could see the golden hair and emerald green eyes synonymous with the youngest member of the Agreste family.

Nathalie glared at the young man while a soldier in a scale mail armored breastplate, plate gauntlets and sabatons approached. He was a huge warrior with massive arms and legs, but if the armor was to be believed, a slender waist. "Call it what you will, Adrien, your father has decreed that you will remain in the manor." She then happened to glance at the bag in his hand. "What is that?"

Once he realized his error, Adrien gripped the bag and let it slide under his cloak. "I missed the morning meal due to my lessons, and these people were kind enough to offer me something to eat." He then turned back, a pleading look in his eye that they should play along. "Never have I met a kinder family in my entire life, and I thank them for their generosity."

Perhaps it was because of the look in his eyes, or maybe it was due to their innate kindness, but Sabine smiled. "I have said before, nobody goes hungry if I have any say, and he looked as hungry as any I have ever seen." Marinette, however, remained silent, her head bowed so that she didn't look at the son of the local baron.

Quietly stalking over to the counter, Nathalie placed her hands onto her hips, her eyes narrowed in consternation. "What did he receive?" her voice was no longer brusque, but it wasn't overly friendly either.

Recoiling a little from the obvious scrutiny, Sabine shook her head. "Just a couple of croissants. We made extra just so if anyone was hungry and couldn't pay..."

Slamming her hand down, Nathalie left enough coin for the two croissants. "Consider it paid for now." the woman then turned to glare at Adrien, missing the way the family watched at the interchange between the two. "Your father is most displeased with your apparent refusal to follow his rules. We're heading back to the manor."

Turning to regard the family, Adrien sighed. "I... do apologize for..."

Unfortunately, he saw the pain and anger in Marinette's eyes before she dropped her head. With a shake, her eyes closed. "Just. Go." Although her voice was barely over a whisper, Adrien felt as if she had just spent an hour berating him for his foolishness. Nodding, he turned to follow his guard, while Nathalie followed in his wake.

Voices hushed as they walked past until he arrived at the carriage that would take him back at the manor. Once he and Nathalie were inside, and the door closed, he opened the small bag. Tearing off a small piece of the flaky pastry, he put it into his mouth and his eyes widened. He never had a pastry nearly melt in his mouth, but that's what the piece did, tearing off another piece, he blinked as the next part did the exact same. Taking the last piece, he handed it to the woman beside him. "You have to try some of this."

Without a word, Nathalie took the piece and absentmindedly tossed it into her mouth. She only barely bit into the pastry before she looked down at the bag. "This is... exquisite." she breathed.

oOo

"Xenophobia," Gabriel Agreste scowled as the word passed his lips, "is no reason to refuse, not only a potential partnership with wealthy merchants and nobles, but a productive friendship through far reaching trade." He looked at the collection of people at his banquet table. Dressed in a pair of black leather boots, red breeches that hung loose on his slender hips, a light blue vest with his family crest over his left breast, and a white shirt left open to reveal part of his collarbone, the man stood tall and proud, his light blue eyes scanning the other three people.

"Yes, yes, so you've said innumerable times." Andre Bourgeois quipped, waving his hand. His blue eyes narrowed at the baron while a gold crown encircled his brow. Even though he was rather large around the mid-section, it was clear that he still had a regal bearing. Dressed in a red coat with a white collar poking out of the top, and a pair of white breeches, he sat next to his queen, Audrey, who wore a golden tiara with black diamonds all around her honey blonde hair. Attired in a white and black bodice, a white dress emerging from underneath, she sat there scowling at their host. "Nobody is refusing the rights of trade, we've just been hesitant to affect any on the grounds of distance."

Zoe, the Countess from Italy, shook her head. "It is none of our concern who you trade with, Gabriel, as long as trade is fair and even for all of us." Attired in a long, dark blue gown with a light gray bodice that holds her family crest front and center between her bosom, her brown hair was pulled back into a bun, while a silver weave covered the majority of her hair and scalp. "From what I can tell, you already have a trade deal with the Tsurugi family, but am I to understand that you wish for them to join this council so that we may make five rather than our typical four after..." she looked at the lone seat vacated by his wife.

"There is no reason to reopen old wounds." His tone may have been light, but they could tell the subject of his spouse wasn't up for comment. "This council has always worked well with five before, until this past year after my wife's passing," he shook his head, "we have been at a stalemate for far too long while conducting our businesses. We are stagnating, and that isn't just bad for our acquisition of wealth, but is also an invitation for open rebellion." Gabriel looked at the other three in the room. "We must have another to break the deadlock."

Narrowing her eyes, Audrey scowled. "You believe that this... Tsurugi clan will work well with us?"

"As long as we give them the proper amount of respect, and offer to be fair with them, I know the Tsurugi family will treat us with the same." Gabriel had just finished when the manor doors opened and slammed shut. "Let us take a vote on this, so that I may deal with my rather wayward son." Raising his hand, he watched as Zoe and Andre raised their hands.

"I have no problem with trading with the Tsurugi family, but I want your word that this will not change our plans between Chloe and Adrien." Audrey narrowed her eyes at the males. With her hands on her lap, the queen glanced around the table.

Gabriel glared at the woman. "Their betrothal is still assured." Turning, he started to walk around the table toward the door. "I shall invite the Tsurugi family over, and we'll all talk about their appointment to the council." Upon reaching the door, the baron exited the meeting hall and approached Nathalie. "My son is..?"

"In the training yard, Baron Agreste." With a single nod, he turned toward the back of the manor. It didn't take long for him to emerge to see his son dressed in a pair of dark blue breeches, an emerald green vest over a white billowing sleeved shirt, a pair of black leather gauntlets and boots on his hands and feet. In his right hand he wielded a rapier, while a dagger was held his left. The two weapons moved in concert as he parried and deflected his opponent's blades.

Before his son stood a tall man with a large nose and a curly mustache underneath. Dressed in dark gray breeches, a deep blue vest over a light gray billowing shirt, a pair of leather fencing gloves and boots, the man wielded a rapier and dagger. He thrust at his opponent, only to have his weapon turned away, the return stroke sending his dagger out wide. "Excellent form!" he complimented as he twisted and brought his sword down, deflecting the dagger.

Adrien deflected his instructor's next strike with his blade, letting the weapon slide down his own before twisting and striking out with his dagger. The pair dodged and deflected, practically dancing around each other until the younger male saw his father. Leaping back from his instructor's strike, he brought his weapons down, their universal code for a break in combat. "My apologies, but it appears that my father wants a word with me, Mr. D'Argencourt."

"Of course." The slender male brought up his blade in a salute, bowing to his pupil. "We shall continue once you have returned."

Returning his weapons to his belt, Adrien walked over to his father. Bowing his head, he spoke softly. "I apologize for..."

"You have directly disobeyed me, and went out into town." Gabriel interrupted. "Why?"

Looking back up at his father, he took a deep breath. "I only wished to walk among the people, to understand why I have heard and seen so many..."

The look in Gabriel's eyes told Adrien he had chosen the wrong words. "You are the son of a baron, Adrien, and I expect you to comport yourself as such. A young baron does not "walk among the people" as you so eloquently..."

"Maybe a baron should!" Adrien angrily remarked a little louder than he meant, "Then maybe the people wouldn't hate us!"

Shaking his head at his son, Gabriel sighed. "They don't hate us, Adrien, they are jealous of our success in business, and our capability to hold council with the nobility and aristocracy."

It took everything for Adrien to not explode at his father. "That's where you're wrong, father." He sighed. "When I was out there, I met a family and their daughter... she started to treat me kindly, but when she found out who I was, it was like I had walked up and killed her beloved dog." Turning around, he looked at the training yard. "She hated me, father, and she wasn't the only one. The people I saw in town... they hated me the moment my name was spoken."

"Jealousy breeds contempt, Adrien. You will get used to it, as I have." Gabriel sighed as he walked over, placing a hand on his son's shoulder. "Everything we do is to help the commoners who live and work in our lands. Unfortunately, some don't see it that way."

Adrien shook his head at his father's comment. "I'm afraid nobody else in our lands sees it that way." Walking away from Gabriel, he never saw the look of surprise on his father's face before the older male turned and headed into the manor. Returning to his training, the younger Agreste sought out exertion as a way of quelling his own frustrations. Even after several hours, and with sweat dripping off of his chin and hair, he was still going fast and strong, as if fighting his own personal demons.

"Rest for the night." his instructor suggested. "Adrien, something vexes you." It was not a question.

Slamming his rapier back into its scabbard, he sighed. "My father is being unreasonable again." Adrien growled. Leaning against a tree, he looked at his gauntlet clad hand, his other one massaging some of the feeling back into the appendage. "Mr. D'Argencourt, what would you do in my position?"

"I would endeavor to discover the truth."

Looking over, he noted that his instructor leaned against the tree beside the young man. "How?"

"That I cannot tell you. You see, your father may very well be correct, but that might not make him right." Mr. D'Argencourt commented, looking up at the stars starting to peek out in the night sky.

"You're going to have to explain that to me."

"Okay, think of it like this. Your father wants you to become similar to him, right?"

For a moment, Adrien shrugged. "I guess..."

"Well, if you think of it like this, the hottest fires create the strongest blades." Holding up his rapier, he looked at the blade. "Even with everything he's putting you through, it may not be enough. For you see, a blade forged with higher heat has only one of two possibilities, to become stronger, or to crack and become worthless." Looking back at Adrien, he smiled. "Your father may believe he's doing all of this to make you stronger, but I wonder if he's pushing you too hard?"

"I don't know." Adrien looked back at the manor house, his eyes narrowed. "When my mother was still around, I would talk with her about these things, but now..."

Pushing himself off of the tree, Mr. D'Argencourt grunted. "Sometimes talking it out can allow your ears to hear what your mind cannot comprehend. It can also be just as informative and cathartic as the real thing." Smiling at Adrien, he nodded. "Go. See your mother, and talk to her about all of this."

"Are you sure it will help?"

"It couldn't hurt." With that said, his instructor walked toward the manor.

For a few minutes, Adrien watched him go, before pushing off of the tree himself. Heading in the opposite direction, he started for his room. The young man felt like he needed to clean himself before he ever went to see his mother. Besides, she wasn't going anywhere.