Adrien arrived at the Demon Castle, the sky above clouded and dark, despite it being the middle of the day. He landed on the perch of his balcony, wanting to avoid talking to anyone. He ruffled his feathers before tucking them in tightly, knowing how much of a pain it was to walk around with them in an enclosed room. Accidents happened quite often.
The castle was coloured a dark burgundy with black accents, it was dull and dark and Adrien hated it. He remembered Marinette telling him the Angel Castle was white with golden rims and edges that gleamed in the sunlight. It was always sunny there and the water was always clear. Even the village was clean, farmers and bakers working together. Adrien wished he could witness it, just once. He had grown up surrounded by death and violence, his kingdom didn't have a village, they had an army and factories that built nothing but weapons. Now he understood why it was always cloudy, the air was full of pollution.
He realized he was staring down at the buildings below them, the factories coughing up more smoke than it could produce. Adrien adverted his gaze, his face contorted in disgust. He walked into his bedroom, closing the doors behind him to block out the smell of ash, before going over to his bed where a small black cat he had named Plagg slept. He didn't understand why they put a bed in here, anyone with wings slept in hammocks to help keep them comfortable. He'd only ever slept in the bed once and when he woke up, his wings were asleep and for the next hour, he had to suffer through pins and needles. Better than getting feathers pulled at least.
He walked out of his empty bedroom hoping that, to anyone passing by, it looked like he'd been in there the entire time. He wanted to get to the courtyard— the only place in the kingdom with grass— before his father saw him. But of course, nothing was going the way he wanted it to go today.
"Prince Adrien," Started a demon behind him and Adrien paused, cursing quietly under his breath before turning to look at who spoke. It was his father's assistant, a woman with her hair tied in a bun. Her wings were smaller than most demon's and they were always tucked in tightly, Adrien often wondered if she could even fly.
"Yes, Nathalie?" He replied calmly, despite how his feathers trembled. He knew what was coming, it was inevitable at this point.
"Your father— the King— has issued orders to speak with you, he's waiting in the throne room." She explained, confirming his fears. He remained composed and nodded, lips forming a thin line.
"Thank you for informing me, you may resume your duties." He said and she bowed her head slightly before turning and walking off. He let out a sigh he'd been holding in and let his wings droop, the feathers dragging against the cold marble floor. He turned and walked the opposite way, taking the long way to the throne room. To say he was dreading this conversation was an understatement. He was terrified.
He turned and descended the spiral staircase from the fourth floor living quarters— the royal suites— to the uppermost public level. He nodded a stiff hello to the guards surrounding the stairs and a short stroll later was standing between one of many archways surrounding a drop out from floor to empty air. The opening was grand and round, dropping several stories to the lowest level. On every floor surrounding the drop were archways identical to the one he was standing under— ashy black detailed with intricate burgundy designs depicting the history and folklore of demons throughout the centuries.
The Crater.
This was a hubbub of sorts in the Castle as it was the simplest way to travel from one floor to the next. Generals, soldiers, kernels, the odd councilman and a variety of other personnel— exalted and low ranking alike— flew from floor to floor, creating a light din of rustling feathers and voices that carry and blend in the open space. From what Adrien could see through the arch, guards and soldiers stood in rows, ready for whatever attack the Angels had planned.
"Yeah right," Adrien muttered as he took a step back, let his wings spread before gliding smoothly off the edge, soaring down. Weaving through his people, he earned a few nods and quick shrugs of the wings— synonymous to a wave. He responded accordingly but subtly sped up the descent to a room just off the Crater, landing in front of the row of soldiers. His wings puffed out, flaring as he stood. He tried to ignore the looks he got from the demons, most of them staring at him with thinly veiled curiosity or perhaps an unexplained hatred. He didn't care what they thought of him, it's not like their opinion mattered.
He walked through the grand oak doors to the throne room, spotting his father waiting for him in his overrated glamour chair. Adrien made his way up the carpeted floor. Once he reached the few steps that elevated the throne just slightly above everyone else, he bowed, his wings extending at his sides.
"You wanted to speak with me?" Adrien asked, not meeting his father's eyes. Instead, he stared at the chair. Gabriel stood, his wings so large that they draped over him like a cloak. His father had always been proud of wings— steely grey, metallic, hued with a deep purple. The amethystine was especially vivid in the Castle's lighting. Suspended from the ceiling by chains, floated hunks of charcoal encased by a violet flame that flickered and danced but never sputtered out. They were warm to the touch but didn't burn and interwove themselves into the crevices of the wedges they'd become attached to.
"Yes I did, as you may have already known, you're turning 18 soon," Gabriel stated. Adrien resisted the urge to congratulate him on remembering, unlike the last 17 years. Instead, he nodded and stayed quiet.
"Which means you're coming of age. Soon we will need a new King, and I hope you are prepared to do so." He continued, and Adrien felt his stomach drop. He finally looked his father in the eye, wondering if he could see the fear that suddenly infected him with a single sentence.
"Father, I—"
"You will participate in the pro coronam." He finally finished and Adrien couldn't hide his panicked expression. His breath caught in his throat and he thought he was about to throw up. His feathers trembled, his wings flicking as he processed his father's words.
"That'll kill me! Father, I don't want—" Adrien was interrupted by his father lifting a hand to silence him.
"It is not a choice, it is your duty as Prince and heir to the throne for you to participate. It's a tradition after all," Gabriel explained and Adrien shook his head, taking a step forward.
"But I don't want to become King! This kingdom is corrupted! I will not kill just to take the throne!" Adrien exclaimed respect be damned. He was furious and terrified, making him emotional overall. His wings flaring and bristling in anger and panic, even his cat ears were flicking.
Pro coronam was a battle to the death, four demons go in, and only one leaves victorious, becoming the next King. It was unfair and ended in a bloodbath. Every time.
"You are my son and you will do as I say! We're not arguing this, go back to your room, that's an order!" Gabriel exclaimed firmly, his wings snapping open with authority. Adrien stumbled back, scowling before turning and stomping out of the room. He left the throne room and flew out of the courtroom, the demon soldiers exchanging knowing glances.
Adrien was furious, his father was willing forcing him into a fight that would most likely kill him. He didn't even want to be King, but the other competitors would be there to win, they'll be aggressive and won't go easy on the snobby little prince with the cat ears.
As soon as he entered his room, he slammed the door and ran out into the balcony, his wings already flapping before he got out the door. He needed to escape, he couldn't take any more of this. The demon kingdom was wrong about everything, wrong about angels, wrong about their way of choosing the King, and wrong about him. If Gabriel truly believed Adrien would fight in that god awful competition, he was sadly mistaken.
Adrien soared out of the kingdom, the sky clearing as he crossed the border to no-man's land, what is now forest was once a wasteland, a battlefield from their ancestors. The war was on hold but that didn't stop them from fighting. Angels and Demons tended to hold grudges. He dropped down into a clearing of trees, what was usually the rendezvous spot for him and Marinette was now the victim of his anger.
"That stupid, arrogant, no-hearted little—!" He muttered as he stomped over to a tree, punching it as hard as he could. The tree shook in impact, the spot he hit chipping off and bending. His wings raised up in anger, the feathers rustling.
He lowered his fist, clenching it with his other hand as pain seared through his entire arm. He cursed loudly, not expecting anyone to be around to hear him. He turned, leaning against the tree trunk and glanced up, his eyes meeting a pair of wide caramel brown ones.
But what caught his eye was the pair of ivory white wings rising in alarm.
He smiled awkwardly, not able to raise his hand, "Um... hi?"
Marinette was helping her parents in the bakery, Tom asking for probably the tenth time for her to put on some shoes. She did so, wearing a pair of pink flats that matched her dress. She had sewn her outfit by herself, the top half a dark brown colour that cut off into a light pink, the colours divided by a white sash. The pink skirt-half of the dress was decorated at the hem with white and dark pink blossoms, making her overall dress look like a cherry blossom tree.
She carried a pan lined with loafs of bread to the back, placing them on a rack to cool down. She rubbed her hands on the apron around her dress and walked back to the front where Sabine was selling to a local customer. Sabine's wings were a size bigger than her small form and a light shade of grey, the feathers aged and soft.
Marinette passed by her mother and pecked her cheek, noticing how Sabine's wings fluttered slightly with content. Marinette smiled before leaving the store and making her way down the cobblestone roads, farmers and villagers passing, sharing a smiling glance with her. She spotted a farmer riding a carriage, the back loaded with hay. The angel's wings were brown and spotted with what she could only assume was mud, proving what kind of work they did. The carriage was being pulled by a horse with wings, the large feathered appendages tucked into the horse's sides. The proper word for these beautiful creatures was pegasus.
She waved at the angel as they passed by, in return, they offered a kind smile then continued with their business. Just as Marinette looked forward, she spotted Alya flying into the kingdom borders. She looked urgent and in a rush considering how quickly she was flying. She stopped immediately when she saw Marinette and waved her over.
Despite how confused Marinette was, she listened and moved closer before taking off with her wings. Once she reached Alya, the angel didn't explain before turning and bolting off, Marinette following behind.
"Where are you taking me?" Marinette asked curiously as she caught up with her friend. Alya only spared her a glance before dashing off, Marinette forced to wait and see. The girl sighed before rushing to catch up.
Alya suddenly stopped and dropped down into a clearing, Marinette realizing it was the same clearing she went to meet up with Adrien all the time. Before she could ask anything, Alya grabbed her wrist.
"You are not going to believe what I found! I was passing by when I heard this really loud noise and guess what I saw," Alya explained as she dragged her friend over to a cluster of trees, Marinette getting a sudden uneasiness in her stomach. It only got worse when she spotted the pair of black wings poking out from behind a tree, someone obviously tied to the base of the trunk.
"Alya, what's going on?" Marinette asked nervously but before she could get an answer, she was pulled by her friend to stand in front of the demon. Her heart skipped in her chest and she had to stifle a gasp. Her wide eyes met his and they both were silent for a moment before he scoffed in disbelief.
"I found a demon! He had punched a tree for some reason and hurt his hand so I kinda panicked when he saw me and threw a stun-orb at him, then tied him to a tree. Pretty impressive huh?" Alya was going on but Marinette was only half-paying attention. The angel's bluebell eyes snapped to his injured hand and from instinct, she crouched in front of him, taking his hand to inspect. He winced in pain but didn't say anything.
"Uh... Marinette?" Alya asked, getting her attention finally, "What are we gonna do with him?"
Marinette glanced back at Adrien with a concerned look, not sure what to say that wouldn't make this situation worse. Alya probably thought it was weird enough that Marinette was comfortable around a demon, saying that she knew him would completely ruin everything.
"We have to help him, he's obviously hurt." She decided and glanced back down at his hand, his knuckles red with blood and already beginning to bruise. "I think he broke his hand..." She muttered before gently letting go of his hand and standing back up. She appreciated how Adrien didn't say anything about the matter.
"Wait, you want to help him? But he's a demon! We should bring him to the King," Alya suggested but Marinette quickly shook her head.
"No, he isn't a threat. You know that too, he didn't try to attack you earlier—"
"Yeah cause he had just punched a tree!"
"—and I know him! Alright?" Marinette finished, sighing in exhaustion. She figured the truth would come out at some point, she just hoped she could trust Alya to not tell anyone.
Her friend stared at her, speechless with wide eyes. Marinette's wings trembled with the sudden awkward silence, not sure what Alya's reaction would be. She heard Adrien take a breath, most likely thinking the same thing.
"You what?" Alya finally asked, Marinette's wings folding tightly with nerves.
"I... I know him, we met a few months ago. He saved me from a few other demons who attacked me," Marinette explained, hoping Alya remembered how Marinette came home one day with a broken wing. It healed, thanks to Adrien.
"He saved you? I find that hard to believe," Alya stated, crossing her arms. Marinette sighed.
"I swear it's true, he's... my friend," Marinette admitted, Alya's eyes widening again. Her wings raised up in a fit of defeat, the girl turning and letting out a small laugh.
"There's a difference between knowing someone and being friends with someone," Alya said and Marinette exchanging a glance with Adrien who looked equally as uncomfortable. She had much to talk to him about, but right now she was occupied with Alya.
"Can I talk to you for a moment? In private?" Marinette asked, not giving Alya a chance to answer before grabbing her arm and dragging her over to the other side of the clearing.
"What is it now?" Alya asked exasperated, Marinette clasped her hands together nervously, her wings raising slightly.
"It's just... I really like him so..." Marinette started quietly, Alya's jaw dropping.
"WHAT THE SHIT!?" Alya screeched, Marinette cringing at the noise. She glanced over at the tree Adrien was tied to, noticing how he had leaned over to see what was going on. She felt her cheeks go warm with embarrassment.
"Alya, please quiet down..." Marinette muttered, practically shrinking into herself. She wanted to crawl under a rock and never look at another angel or demon ever again.
"You like a demon!?" Alya asked in a hushed whisper, trying not to completely freak out on her friend.
"He's not like other demons Alya, please believe me. He's actually kind and has never hurt anyone before," Marinette pleaded, her brows furrowed in desperation. Alya stared at her friend for a moment before sighing.
"Alright, fine. But if he ends up not being what you expected, I get to say I told you so." Alya said and Marinette smiled slightly, not believing for a second that Adrien was anything but who he is around her.
"So be it," She agreed before the two walked back over at Adrien, Marinette immediately crouching down to untie him. Alya seemed uneasy but even so, she didn't stop her friend.
Marinette helped Adrien up, his wings ruffling as they stretched out and Alya took a step back, uncomfortable with being so close to him.
"I'm... sorry if I had scared you, I didn't realize you were there," Adrien explained, speaking for the first time in what seemed like forever. Marinette almost forgot how much she loved hearing his voice.
Alya shifted slightly, her wings flicking behind her nervously, "Yeah, it's f-fine."
Marinette was reminded why she needed to talk to him, her gaze drawing back to the demon. "Why'd you punch a tree?" She asked and he nervously clenched his injured hand.
"I was... upset."
Alya stepped in, "You were cursing someone before you punched the tree, did someone piss you off?" She asked and Adrien glanced off to the side, his wings drooping low to the ground. Marinette finally put the pieces together. She let out a small breath, not sure how to react.
"I understand, it's okay, you don't have to explain." She said softly, resting a hand on his shoulder. He glanced over at her, the ghost of a smile crossing his face for a moment. Alya wanted to ask but stayed quiet.
Adrien turned his attention to his injured hand, wincing as he tried to move it. Marinette reached over and gently grabbed his hand again, almost wanting to break the awkward tension and make a joke. She shared a knowing glance with him and they both knew what they had to do.
The only way to fix his hand, was to take it to the healer.