Author's notes: Just like with real history I will be messing with the timeline a little bit. I'm gonna try to keep things close but there are some things that need to happen sooner rather than later. Mostly because I don't want to keep pulling up the episode timeline whenever I need to figure out a plot point. I did do an initial look up for the basic idea of when I wanted to have the story start but that is it.
As always I own nothing.
"Bye bye, little butterfly," the scarlet-clad heroine chimed, tossing a polka-dotted deflated beach ball into the air. "Miraculous Ladybug!" she cried, unleashing a wave of magical energy that restored the city to its pre-battle state. She turned to her feline-clad partner, and they shared their customary fist bump before preparing to go their separate ways.
As Ladybug was about to depart, she caught a flash of white out of the corner of her eye again. This was becoming an unsettling pattern—these glimpses of white had been more frequent lately, making her increasingly paranoid. At first, she dismissed them as the purified butterfly flying away after battles or merely sheets drying on a clothesline. But each time she turned to get a better look, there was nothing unusual to be seen.
Ladybug's brows knitted together in concern. She couldn't shake the feeling that something—or someone—was watching her. Determined to keep her anxiety at bay, she made her way home, taking one of her alternate routes to ensure she wasn't being followed. Two streets away from the bakery, she slipped into an alleyway and allowed her transformation to fade.
"Here you go, Tikki," Marionette said, handing a cookie to the red kwami. Tikki gratefully accepted the treat and quickly darted into Marionette's purse. As soon as the latch on her purse was shut, Marionette began whispering urgently.
"Tikki, I saw that white flash again," she said, her voice tinged with anxiety. "Do you think it's Hawkmoth? Do you think he found out my identity?" Her breathing quickened as her thoughts spiraled. "Could he be spying on me? Waiting until I let my guard down to attack and steal my Miraculous, or kidnap me?"
The bluenette's mind raced with increasingly frantic thoughts as she grasped her head and started to spin in place. "If I get kidnapped, I won't be able to finish Adrien's fifth name day present! And if I don't finish his present, how am I gonna confess? If I don't confess, how are we going to date and get married and have our three kids with a hamster named—!"
"Marionette, breathe," Tikki interrupted gently, her high, squeaky voice attempting to calm and soothe her overdramatic wielder from her hiding place in the purse. She rubbed small circles on the teen's hip through the layers of fabric, her touch a comforting reminder of their bond. "We don't know if it's Hawkmoth. It could be something else entirely. Let's not jump to conclusions."
Marionette closed her eyes and took a deep breath, centering herself. "You're right, Tikki. We don't know what that white thing I keep spotting is. It could be anything."
She exhaled slowly, feeling the tension in her shoulders begin to ease. The shadows of paranoia still lingered, but Tikki's presence and rational words helped anchor her thoughts. She's Ladybug, she needed to keep her head. "Maybe it's just a coincidence," Marionette continued, her voice steadier now. "Then again maybe not. The only thing that we can do for now is to wait and observe. Now let's get back home."
"Okay!" Tikki chirped.
Marionette decided to go through the back entrance of the bakery instead of the front. This way, she could go straight to her room without any interruptions and get back to working on Adrien's present. The familiar scent of freshly baked bread and pastries greeted her as she entered, making her stomach remind her that she missed lunch. Making a detour to the kitchen she made a small helping of some of the day old pasties for her and Tikki to share the moment that they were back in her room.
Balancing the plate of treats, she climbed up to her attic room, the trapdoor creaking softly as she entered. She set the plate down on her desk and opened her purse to let Tikki out. The little kwami buzzed around excitedly, her eyes lighting up at the sight of the pastries.
Taking one of the single-serve tarte aux fraises from the plate with a napkin, she took a bite of the pastry, trying to keep the crumbs contained as she savored the sweet flavor of the strawberries and custard. The tartness of the fresh strawberries balanced perfectly with the creamy custard, a delightful contrast that made her sigh in contentment.
Marionette's eyes drifted to the half-finished present for Adrien on her desk. She took another bite of the tart before setting it down, wiping her hands on a napkin, and picking up her felting tools. Carefully, she continued to blend the felt fibers into the black wool to mimic the stripes on his favorite shirt.
So focused on her project, she never noticed the man in the white cat costume watching her from the roof across from her room. His eyes narrowed as he observed the rows of colorful stripes she was felting into the black fabric being overly meticulous on the details. She was working on something for his unworthy successor again. The thought gnawed at him, igniting a spark of resentment. His clawed fingers embedded themselves deeper into the tiles of the roof as he watched her.
As the hours wore on, the man's frustration and resentment deepened, his emotions simmering beneath his composed exterior. From his perch on the rooftop, he clung to the tiles with his clawed fingers, embedding them into the rough surface for a sense of grounding. The act of watching her work—so focused, so dedicated—only served to heighten his growing anger and envy.
The rhythmic motion of Marionette's needle, plunging into the wool with meticulous precision, became almost unbearable to him. Each jab of the barbed needle into the fabric seemed to echo a personal wound, as if the sharp points were piercing his own heart, making him flinch with every thrust. He observed with painful detail as she wove colorful stripes into the black material, her hands working with methodical care. The repetitive action of the needle felt like a cruel mimicry of his own suffering.
With each deliberate jab of Marionette's needle, he was cruelly transported back to the harrowing moment when he had first learned of Jeanne's death. It felt as though each plunge into the wool was a visceral reminder of his own anguish—a thousand metaphorical needles piercing his heart, making him relive the torment of that fateful day. The rhythmic stabbing of the needle echoed his grief, amplifying his agony with every motion.
Overwhelmed by the emotional pain and unable to endure it any longer, he made a desperate retreat to his hideout in the catacombs, intent on preparing for the plans he had meticulously laid out for later on that evening. The intensity of his emotions drove him to flee with a sense of urgency, his mind consumed by thoughts.
Unbeknownst to him, as he turned to escape, both Marionette and Tikki had finally glimpsed his presence. Marionette's eyes widened in shock, her heart racing as she saw the elusive figure in the white cat costume. Tikki's expression mirrored Marionette's alarm, her tiny body quivering with surprise. It couldn't be him. How could he be alive after all these years? How had he survived, and what was his purpose in spying on Marionette? Glancing at her wilder she paused to focus her thoughts before telling Marionette that she needed to speak with the others in the Miracle box and for Marionette to join her parents downstairs for dinner. Marionette nodded absentmindedly and headed for the trapdoor.
As Marionette sat at the dinner table, her mind a whirl of unease, Tikki was deep in conversation with the other kwami within the Miracle Box. Her description of the figure she had seen was laden with disbelief and concern. "He was there, watching Marionette," Tikki said, her voice quivering as she struggled to communicate the severity of the situation. The usual calm of the Miracle Box had evaporated, replaced by a palpable tension and anxiety as the kwami absorbed the shocking news.
Waze, his eyes wide with shock, was the first to break the stunned silence that had fallen over the Miracle Box. His voice, laden with disbelief, cut through the tension. "How is this possible?" he exclaimed. "The former Black Cat should be dead. The Guardians told us he was gone for good. Does Plagg know about this? I can't imagine him taking this well."
Tikki shook her head, her expression etched with deep concern. "No, Plagg doesn't know yet. Neither Ladybug nor I could determine what those white flashes were. At first, we thought it might be something as innocuous as a sheet fluttering in the wind or merely a trick of the light. We didn't want to raise any alarms with Chat Noir without more concrete evidence. This evening is the first time we've had a clear sighting of him, and it's deeply unsettling. I'm troubled by the thought of how long he might have been spying on her and why he would target her specifically."
Her thoughts turned to Plagg. She knew that Plagg had always carried the weight of his former partner's fate heavily upon him. The pain and guilt he had felt after the fall of his chosen one had been profound, leaving him inconsolable for decades. Tikki could only imagine how Plagg would react to the news of the former Black Cat's survival.
Tikki took a deep breath, her mind racing with the implications of their discovery. "Ladybug needs to speak with Jeanne as soon as possible. Jeanne can provide her with information and guidance without the usual restrictions on identifying the former Black Cat. Once that conversation is complete and we've had a chance to explain everything we know, I'll have her reach out to Chat Noir. It's crucial that we handle this delicately and with the utmost care, both for Plagg's sake and to ensure her safety."
It was a quarter past seven when Marionette returned to her room. Checking both her window along with her skylight for the man in white and seeing no sign of him she turned her attention to Tikki, who was perched on her desk with a somber expression spread across her features, Marionette felt a pang of unease. The red kwami's eyes, usually filled with warmth and encouragement, now held a deep sadness. Tikki fluttered closer to Marionette, her tiny wings creating a gentle rustling sound.
"We need to head to the Louvre before it closes," Tikki said, her voice carrying a sharp edge of urgency that caught Marionette's attention. The normally calm and collected kwami seemed more anxious than usual, and Marionette could sense the gravity behind her words.
"Make sure to bring the kwagatama I gave you for your birthday," Tikki continued, her tiny wings fluttering with a touch of nervous energy. "It will be important once we get there. You'll understand why once we arrive."
Grabbing her purse, Marionette opened it for Tikki and made her way down stairs. Yelling over her shoulder that she needed to go to Alya's and would be back before they went to bed. Marionette rushed to the museum and once she entered Tikki directed Marionette to look for the symbol that she saw on the boxes that housed the Miraculous. Marionette nodded, her heart pounding with anticipation. She moved through the galleries scanning for any sign of the symbol. The museum's grand halls and elegant exhibits seemed to blur into the background as she focused on her search until she saw a painting with the symbol on the corner of a frame.
"Place the kwagatama against the symbol," Tikki instructed her wielder. Marionette approached the painting, her fingers trembling slightly as she reached into her purse to retrieve the kwagatama. With careful movements, she held the kwagatama up to the symbol, aligning it so that it touched the emblem directly.
A soft glow emanated from the kwagatama as it made contact with the symbol. Marionette's heart skipped a beat as the light began to intensify, casting a warm glow over the painting and the surrounding area. The gentle illumination spread, revealing a series of portraits that surrounded her. Each portrait seemed to come alive in the golden light, their details becoming more vivid and lifelike.
The bluenette's eyes widened in shock as the familiar figures stared back at her. The historical significance of each face was unmistakable, and the energy in the room seemed to pulse with the weight of centuries past.
"Touch the portrait of the one in plate armor," Tikki instructed softly, her voice filled with a mix of urgency and reverence. "When Jeanne appears, ask her about her Black Cat."
Marionette nodded, her breath catching in her throat as she stepped closer to the portraits. Her fingers brushed against the cool surface of the frame, finding the figure adorned in gleaming plate armor. The woman's gaze was fierce yet kind, a warrior's strength mingled with an aura of grace.
With a deep breath, Marionette touched the portrait. The light around her intensified, and the room seemed to shift, the air growing thick with a tangible sense of history and magic. The portrait's surface rippled like water, and from it emerged a figure, ethereal and radiant.
Jeanne of Arc stood before her, her presence commanding and awe-inspiring. The legendary heroine's eyes locked onto Marionette's, a connection spanning the centuries formed in that instant.