Guys, this chapter is enormous. I greatly underestimated how long this was going to be, but I named this chapter specifically for the last half, so I had to stick to the outline. This chapter is nearly twice the length of any I've done before, so I'm spoiling you today!
Enjoy ;)
Marinette let out a shaky breath as she held out the red cloth that used to don her face every day. The sun was slowly rising outside, and with each passing second, the anxiety pooling in her stomach grew stronger.
Her final test was today. She wasn't sure what she was more nervous for: completing whatever tasks were in store or having to do it with the eyes of her entire troop on her, not to mention the possibility of bystanders. Chat had no problem offering her a privately administered test, but her pride led her to refuse him.
She wouldn't let these rumors ruin her. As much as she wanted to hide from it, from the judgment and the criticism, what good would that do? They already thought she was weak. Why let them continue to think that way when she could stand up, head held high, and prove them wrong? She deserved to be here just as much as anyone else, and she was going to show them why.
That is, if she could pass.
Chat had the utmost faith in her. He was the one who created the test, so hearing his input eased her worries, but only a little. She remembered times when they were training, and he was sure she could lift some weight or perform some move, but she just wasn't able to do it. He was an optimist and led with his heart, and most of the time he could push her to achieve miraculous feats, but sometimes, he was wrong. Sometimes, he overestimated her.
Marinette was afraid this was one of those times.
"You gonna wear it?" She looked over her shoulder to see Chat step the rest of the way into the tent. She opened her mouth to respond, but the words never left her tongue as her eyes raked over his appearance. Rather than his black t-shirt, he was wearing a dark green tank top showcasing his broad shoulders and muscular arms. She tried to keep her eyes from lingering, but of course, she stared for just a moment too long. A smirk pulled at the corner of his lips. "You like the new look?"
Marinette quickly averted her eyes and cleared her throat. "Yeah, it looks great. What made you want to switch it up?"
He shrugged. "Thought I could use a rebranding. Plus, it's been a little warm outside lately, and I really like the color."
She shot him a teasing look. "Are you sure Nino won't mind you stealing his clothes?"
He put a hand on his heart, offended. "I'll have you know I bought this myself."
She crossed her arms over her chest and raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? With what money?"
Chat shook his head. "No money. All I need is my charming smile." He titled his head and flashed her a sly grin.
She couldn't stop the way her heart somersaulted. Gosh, what was wrong with her? Ever since their heart-to-heart a couple days ago, she had found herself watching Chat a little more than usual. Not that she typically watched him, but her eyes would follow him as he walked away, or she would sneak glances at him when he wasn't looking at her. It was harmless, really, but she couldn't pinpoint what compelled her to do it.
She had long since acknowledged Chat's good looks, and it had never caused an issue with her in the past. But that was before the rumors started about them, and suddenly she was hyper aware of how any interaction between them could be perceived by onlookers, even if it was only the two of them together. Their entire relationship was now filtered through a romantic lens, and Marinette willed her brain to just drop it already.
Of course, it didn't help when he was looking at her like that, with his head tilted in that adorable way, bringing attention to the sharpness of his jawline and the curve of his lips and his straight white teeth-
Get. It. Together.
It was just her nerves about the test. Yeah, that's what it was. Or maybe she was thrown off by his change in style, not that that should have any effect on her because this was Chat Noir, her friend.
She forced herself to roll her eyes. "I'm sure all the seamstresses were queuing up to pinch your cheeks."
"I could barely get away." His eyes traveled down to the cloth still clutched in her hand. "You know, I don't think you need that anymore. There's no reason to hide your face, right?"
She considered the fabric before nodding. "Yeah, I guess you're right." Now that she thought about it, there was no reason for her to wear her baggy sweatshirt anymore, either. The whole point was to conceal her feminine traits, and although the thick clothing felt nice during the colder days, Chat wasn't wrong that it was warmer outside. A heat wave was passing through France, and she knew her current attire wouldn't do her any favors during her test. Her mind flashed to the red tank tops Alya got for her months ago, when she first joined the revolution. Alya had told her she could wear them whenever she came to visit, but they had lain forgotten in her bag ever since. Wouldn't want them to go to waste…
Marinette gave Chat a mischievous look. "Maybe I could use a rebranding, too."
He eyed her curiously. "How so?"
She had him step out while she got changed. It took her a moment to dig through her bag and find the red tank tops, and she picked one out randomly before switching it with her sweatshirt. It fit snugly and came to just above her belly button. Without a mirror, she wasn't entirely sure how it looked on her, but from what she could tell it showed off her newly toned arms and a hint of the abs that had surfaced on her a few weeks prior. She kept the little black shorts on and tied her hair up into a high ponytail, deciding that her new look was complete.
"Okay, you can come in."
Chat ducked back through the slit in the canvas, and when his eyes landed on her, the easygoing smile faded from his face. His gaze slowly dropped to survey her body. His expression was unreadable, and she felt a bubble of uncertainty and self-consciousness rise the longer he looked. By the time his eyes landed on her face again, she was completely second-guessing the style choice.
She bit her lip and missed the way his eyes almost imperceptibly darted down to the movement. "How does it look? Be honest."
He swallowed thickly. "Um," again his eyes ran over her, "it's…"
He hesitated for only a second, but that was enough for her to decide his answer for him. Her posture slumped. "You hate it, don't you?"
"No!" His response was immediate, almost panicked. "No, you look… incredible."
She cast him a doubtful glance. "You're just saying that."
He shook his head and crossed over to her, placing his hands on her shoulders. "No, I'm not. You just caught me off guard." He gave her that earnest look of his, the one that was reserved for when he was trying to get her to listen to him. "Ladybug, you look amazing."
She let her heart betray her this time as it fluttered in her chest, and she pursed her lips to hold back a smile. "Thanks, Chat-" she paused before giving him a playful look, reaching out and pulling on the front of his tank top, "Verte."
His gaze followed her hand, and although a smile crept onto his lips, he narrowed his eyes at her. "Chat Verte?" There was a note of mock disbelief in his tone.
She shrugged, acutely aware that his hands stayed firm on her shoulders. "How can you be Chat Noir when you're wearing green?"
"I'll have you know, this black cat's always had a hint of green." His expression faltered as he seemed to realize what he had said.
She tilted her head at him, curious about his apparent slip-up. "Oh yeah? Where?"
He blinked, and then his teasing smile returned. He leaned in so their faces were inches apart and lowered his voice. "I'll leave that up to your imagination." Her eyes widened and a flush crept up her cheeks. Then, he stepped back, her arms suddenly feeling cold in the absence of his hands. He sauntered to the door and called over his shoulder, "Don't want to be late, do we?"
She let out a huff of air, annoyed by how pleased he looked with himself. If he had intended to come here and calm her down, then he had done the exact opposite.
Chat parted ways with her just before they reached the South Training Ground. He gave her some last words of encouragement, and although it was for the best, she silently wished he could come with her.
If she had felt uncomfortable when Chat first saw her in her new outfit, it was nothing compared to having the eyes of every nearby soldier fixed on her as she made her way to her troop's gathering space. Heads turned and blatantly followed her as she walked, and she even saw necks craning to glimpse her as she passed larger groups. Marinette hadn't shown her face here since the incident with Rhino, so she couldn't blame them for staring; she was currently the hottest gossip in the revolution. Her expression remained blank as she paid them no mind.
When Marinette finally saw Nino standing near other members of her troop, she felt instantly relieved. As much as she wanted to believe she could handle herself alone, it was nice to have someone else who held a kind of respect and authority to have her back. She wanted so desperately to talk to Nino before they got started, but like Chat said, the others thought she was receiving special treatment, so doing that was not the best idea.
Once everyone had arrived, Nino put two fingers in his mouth and let out a loud whistle, effectively grabbing everyone's attention. "Alright, let's get started." He went on to explain the process ahead of them. The tests were to be administered individually, and at first, Marinette felt relieved, but then he mentioned that everyone who went before got to stick around to watch the rest of the troop go. Whatever. She had already mentally prepared herself for that, anyway.
The first task was to climb the posts. Nothing new there. The second task involved a riddle, and they could either use their brain or their strength to complete it. This one piqued her interest. Nino wasn't explicit with what exactly the task was, but she had a feeling she would do well with it. If there was anything she brought to the table, it was her brain. The last task would test their fighting capabilities in a sparring match. A pang of fear struck her after hearing that.
She wouldn't say she was bad at sparring, but it wasn't a skill she was entirely comfortable with yet. Chat's training with her was purely for strength, and with how distracted she was by everything else happening with him, honing her fighting skills was the least of her worries. Sure, she had grown to have good reflexes, and her coordination had improved immensely, but that didn't stop the doubts from creeping into her mind.
"We're gonna head over to the testing space now. Make sure you've got no extra items on you. Everything you need will be provided for you there." Marinette expected them to head out to the field, but she was surprised when Nino started leading them in the opposite direction towards the treeline. The group shuffled after him, and she ignored the way some of them stared at her before whispering amongst themselves. She could hear snickering behind her as they made their way down a narrow path between the trees.
She took a deep breath in and slowly released it, willing the rising anger and nerves to leave with the exhale. This feeling wasn't new to her. She was used to dealing with the royal soldiers back home, and if anything, they were far worse than a group of arrogant men. At least these soldiers weren't beating her father to a pulp while her mother was forced to watch.
They reached a large clearing. She could tell it was specifically reserved for the testing as it wasn't quite big enough to be considered a field, but it had plenty of space for a single post and a row of painted dummies. The post was on the left and the dummies were on the right, and some thirty feet of flat grass separated the two. They would most likely be sparring in this area.
Another troop leader that Marinette vaguely recognized was waiting for them there, and he led the group down a path off the clearing to another space where they would wait while the tests were administered. One by one, Nino came to the clearing and called out the soldiers' names. Even though Marinette felt that this was the easiest of the three tasks, with every passing minute her nerves grew tenfold. What if she choked? She had only just managed to climb the post when Rhino destroyed everything. The elation she had felt at finally achieving that was completely forgotten as she and Chat tried to deal with the aftermath. Their training was halted, and it had been a few days since she attempted the climb. Plus, she had always had Chat there to support her, and knowing that he was there to catch her if she fell made her feel safe to give it her all.
"Ladybug, you're up next." She rose to her feet on shaky legs and moved to follow Nino into the woods. It was maybe a two minute walk back to the testing area, but it was enough for Nino to give her a quick pep talk. "You've got this, okay? From what Chat tells me, you've done this before during your training. This is just another one of those times."
"There was a little less pressure back then." She wrung her hands restlessly in front of her. "And you know Chat. It doesn't matter what it is. He'll find a way to talk you into thinking you can do anything."
"Then pretend he's there. Focus on whatever he said to you the first time you did it."
Right. She could do that. Chat knew how to calm her down, and if she just imagined that he was there encouraging her, everything would be alright.
Her mind flashed to their interaction that morning, and the bundle of nerves in her stomach were now accompanied by a swarm of butterflies. Okay, maybe he didn't always calm her down, but she couldn't be thinking about that. Not right now.
They reached the testing area where about half of her troop stood chatting amongst themselves. Her arrival caught their attention though, and the chatter slowly died down as they exchanged glances with one another. Nino noticed her watching them and grabbed her shoulder to turn her towards the post.
"I'm sure I don't need to explain this to you, but I will anyway." He grabbed the weights from the ground and held them out to her. "Your goal is to climb this post and retrieve the arrow. You can use these weights, or you can go without them. It's your choice." She nodded and took the weights from him, already working on tying the ropes into a knot. "You have three attempts. Once both feet leave the ground, that counts as one attempt. If you fall, Lynx and I will be here to catch you." He motioned to the other troop leader who was standing nearby. "You can start whenever you're ready." Nino stepped back, and once he was facing away from the others, he mouthed, "You've got this."
Marinette took a deep breath. She gave a curt nod and positioned herself in front of the post. Despite her hyper-awareness of the many eyes on her, she willed her mind to think about Chat. As she wrapped the weights around the post, she imagined him standing behind her, positioning himself to catch her.
Block everything else out. Just think about the next step. Nothing else.
She could practically hear his words in her mind, and she closed her eyes. Block everything out. There was one thing she needed to do, and that was to take the first step. A flash of Chat's grinning face entered her mind, the face he gave her after she climbed the post for the first time. That was the goal. Let's make him proud, and let's show them all what I can do.
Without a second thought, she lifted her right foot, and then her left. Immediately a light burning sensation crept through her arms, but it felt good. It was almost like her muscles missed the challenge she had given them almost every day for the last month. She swung the weights up over her head and repeated the process. Even though she felt like she could go faster, Marinette didn't want to waste her initial boost of energy now. She paced herself. One more step. Swing. Okay, one more. Swing. Her breathing became labored as the burning in her arms and legs grew stronger, but she focused on taking deep breaths.
Her muscles felt like they were on fire, but she refused to look up. If she saw how much further she had to go, her limbs would surely give out. Just one more. You can do it. These words rang in her mind, the only thing she would allow herself to think. Suddenly, the arrow was in front of her, and she quickly placed the loops in one hand and snatched it with the other. She put the arrow between her teeth, and with one last push of energy, she forced herself to slowly slide back down the post. At about six feet from the ground, she let her arms give out and landed on her feet, dropping to her knees in exhaustion.
She was panting, but she was grinning around the arrow in her mouth. She did it. If only Chat was here to see.
"Well done, Ladybug!" Nino exclaimed, coming to take the arrow from her. "First try."
Once her breathing was under control, she smiled up at him. "Thanks, N- Carapace."
He gave her a look at the slip-up, but his face was quickly replaced with pride again. "Here, let's get you up." Nino offered a hand and helped her to her feet, and as she made her way over to the rest of her troop, she caught sight of their faces. Most looked a little shocked, although she couldn't understand why. Early on, Nino stopped having her train on the posts with them because she had already completed it on the night she met Chat. This was common knowledge amongst the troop, but with the recent revelation that she was a woman, perhaps that fact got lost.
She felt smug as she plopped down in the grass a few feet away from them. Now, she was grateful for how long the rest of the tests took. It gave her time to recover. She was surprised by how many of the other soldiers failed on the first attempt. And the second. There were maybe three or four who didn't pass at all. For the most part, though, they all seemed to give up once they retrieved the arrow and plummeted to the ground afterwards.
After everyone had completed the first task, Lynx led those who didn't pass to the Training Grounds while Nino took the rest of them back to the waiting area. By the time Nino disappeared with the first soldier, her elation about clearing the post dissipated, leaving her nervous once again.
She wasn't sure what to expect now. Her mind flashed to the dummies in the clearing. They were the same burlap dummies they practiced their swordsmanship on, but curiously, they were all painted random colors. Nino had said this task involved a riddle. The colors must have something to do with that.
With the posts, Marinette couldn't predict how long each soldier would take, but for this task, Nino consistently returned to the clearing after a little more than five minutes. It must be timed, she thought.
Marinette was propped up against a tree, absent-mindedly fiddling with a long piece of grass, when she heard another soldier address her. Her head turned towards the group sitting a few feet away.
"That was pretty impressive back there," one of them said. She recalled him being her sparring partner once before, but other than that, they had never interacted.
"Thanks," she replied, grateful she didn't have to use her horrible guy voice anymore.
"It's almost like you had a lot of practice," another said, and she realized he was one of Rhino's admirers. He was looking at her with suspicion. In fact, they all were.
Marinette flexed her jaw and narrowed her eyes. "It's almost like we did that exercise every day before training." She glared at the last guy who spoke. He had barely completed the task on his third attempt, scrambling for the arrow just in time before he fell. "You would think we all had enough practice."
He glared back at her. "Yeah? Well some of us had a little extra help. Rhino said that he saw Chat Noir training you on the posts." He sneered at her. "And you two seemed pretty close."
They think you're getting special treatment, Chat had said to her. She kept her face and voice even. "I'd climbed the post before on my own. It wasn't anything new." She gave him a mockingly proud smile, as if she was addressing a child. "Was that your first time?"
His face flushed, and before he could retort, Nino appeared to collect him. He had been calling them in the same order as the first task, but he must have sensed the tension and decided to grab the soldier earlier. Nino gave her a concerned look before disappearing with the asshole, but Marinette didn't feel much better with him gone. The rest of the group continued to eye her, so she got up and moved to the other side of the clearing.
The whole interaction had distracted her from her nerves, and now she was left angry. They were discrediting her and all the hard work she put in to get to this point, and it was infuriating. Everything she had done was earned, through blood, sweat, and tears. Sure, Chat helped her get there, but that was just the same as Nino helping the rest of the troop.
By the time it was her turn, her anger had morphed into determination. Nino noticed the change in her demeanor as she swiftly made her way down the path. He struggled to keep up. "I'm gonna show them," she said, eyes set forward.
Even though he wanted to ask what happened, with her current pace, there would be no time. He settled with, "Hell yeah you are."
She marched into the clearing and stopped before the dummies. There was a sword on the ground before her. Marinette's eyes raked over the colors, starting from left to right.
Gray, green, gray, yellow, green, yellow, black, black, gray, blue, yellow, black, yellow, yellow.
There was no pattern as far as she could tell, but she was sure they meant something. She ignored the other soldiers whispering nearby as Nino walked up beside her. "For this task, your goal is to find a key. It's in one of these dummies. I have a riddle," he pulled out a folded up piece of paper from his pocket, "which tells you where it is. You can choose to use it, or you can tear up all of the dummies to find it. It's your choice. However-"
"I'm timed," she said. It made sense now. You can either use your brain and figure out where the key is on your own, or you can brute force your way through all of them at the cost of your endurance.
Nino nodded. "You have three minutes."
There was no way she could cut up all of these dummies in three minutes. She had to use the riddle.
He handed her the piece of paper. "Don't open it until I say." He took a step back and pulled out a small pocket watch. "Are you ready?" Marinette clenched her fist before giving a nod. "Your time starts… now."
She quickly unfolded the paper and read as quickly as she could while still processing the words:
Wind carries the leaves east,
Between the dandelions, through the grass.
The spiders hide where you expect them least,
And lay in wait for the storm to pass.
West of the water, one by one,
They leave their place,
between streams of the sun.
Find the key on the road they travel,
East of the leaves, west of the light,
For behind the water is the gravel,
Where the end of their journey is in sight.
Her mind short-circuited for a moment as she tried to comprehend what she had just read. Okay, spiders, water, light… What on earth does this mean? She could practically feel the time ticking away as she scanned the words again. "Two minutes left," Nino said, and the pressure increased. She furrowed her eyebrows as her focus centered on the first couple of lines.
Wind carries the leaves east,
Between the dandelions, through the grass.
Her eyes flicked to the dummies before her. There were five colors in total: gray, green, yellow, black, and blue. The riddle had to be related to them. She caught sight of the dummies on the far left. Gray, green, gray, yellow, green, yellow.
The pinch between her eyebrows slackened as something clicked in her mind. She looked between the paper and the dummies, honing in on the first line of the riddle.
Wind carries the leaves east. Her eyes shot to the first three dummies on the far left. Gray, green, gray. Wind, leaves, wind.
She moved to the second line and the next three dummies. Between the dandelions, through the grass. Yellow, green, yellow. Leaves between the dandelions.
Her heart soared as she quickly worked through the rest of the riddle. Black, black, gray. Spiders, storm. Blue, yellow, black, yellow, yellow. West of the water. Between streams of the sun.
She had mapped out all of the dummies now, leaving the final stanza crucial for finding the key.
Find the key on the road they travel,
East of the leaves, west of the light.
She quickly identified the green dummy on the left and the yellow dummy on the right. That left her with the middle five: yellow, black, black, gray, blue.
For behind the water is the gravel,
Where the end of their journey is in sight.
Behind the water. She looked to the left of the blue dummy. Behind the water is the gravel. There was the gray dummy. Find the key on the road they travel.
"One minute."
She dropped the paper and jumped forward, grabbing the sword. With a swift motion, she swiped at the gray dummy, effectively cutting open the burlap in one swing. There were two layers of burlap, and she had managed to nick the second layer where bits of straw peeked out. She reached her hand between the layers and felt around the bottom. Panic and doubt started to set in until her fingers brushed against something cool and metal.
She gripped the key and pulled it out, displaying it to Nino with a triumphant grin. He put the watch back in his pocket, looking just as proud as he did when she finished the first task. "Fantastic job." He picked up the riddle from where it lay on the grass. "I'm glad one of you actually used this. I was getting tired of resetting all the dummies."
She hadn't noticed before, but there were countless dummies prepped and standing just behind the treeline. Nino grabbed the damaged dummy and switched it out for a new one while Marinette made her way over to the others. She pointedly made eye contact with the soldiers who accused her earlier and was pleased when they quickly looked away.
It shocked her how many of the following soldiers discarded the riddle and went straight to hacking up the dummies. There was one poor guy who actually chose the right dummy first, but he must have missed the key in his frantic search and moved on.
At the end of the second task, their troop had thinned out by seven people, and she was satisfied to see that a couple of them belonged to the group from earlier. She and the others began walking back towards their clearing, but Nino stopped them. "For this last task, you all can stay."
The remaining soldiers exchanged glances before one spoke up. "Are we sparring with each other?"
"Nope!" But it wasn't Nino who spoke. Marinette whipped her head towards the familiar voice, her eyes brightening when she saw Chat walk into the clearing, a large grin plastered on his face. "You're fighting me."
The shock, and relief, at seeing Chat here was slowly joined by uneasiness. Fighting Chat? There was no way any of them could actually beat him, not if he was taking it seriously. He had more experience than any of them there.
She was sure everyone was thinking the same thing, but before anyone could voice their thoughts out loud, Nino continued. "The goal of this task isn't to win, it's purely to show me what you can do. You'll each have two minutes to spar with Chat, and I want you to give it your all. Try to win. I'll be the one who decides whether your performance is enough to proceed to the East and West Training Grounds."
Okay, this wasn't too bad. Marinette had been prepared to fight her troop members, and she figured those who won would proceed. Instead, they would fight Chat, who she anticipated would remain on defense. Still, though, she was nervous. She and Chat had never sparred before, in fact she had no concept of his fighting skills, but perhaps this test is the reason why.
She noticed he was avoiding looking at her, and although she felt slightly disappointed, she understood. As they all gathered off to one side, a few soldiers looked between the two of them. It was barely audible, but she heard someone say, "Bet two oranges he's gonna throw the fight with her," and a following, "You're on." She rolled her eyes and tried to brush off the comment, but the idea stuck itself in her head.
Will he, though? No, Chat wouldn't do that. Even though he whole-heartedly believed she'd pass, there was no way he would treat her any differently than the rest of them during the test, especially with all of the eyes on them.
But what if she couldn't hold her own in the fight? Would he go easy on her? All of a sudden the idea of fighting Chat sounded worse than the alternative. If she was fighting her troop members, she could channel her anger towards them into her moves, but now, everything that happened between her and Chat would be under intense scrutiny.
If Chat was feeling the pressure too, he didn't show it. He was bouncing on his heels and stretching his arms as the first soldier took his place across from him. The rest of the troop formed a small arc a safe distance away from them, eager to see their revolutionary leader in action. Chat cracked his neck before raising his fists in front of him. "Alright, show me what you got."
The soldier looked apprehensive, and he took a moment to prepare himself. Then, he lunged at Chat. Nearby, Nino began to time them. The soldier threw punches left and right, and Chat blocked and dodged them with ease. His face turned serious as he focused on the fight, and Marinette couldn't help but watch her friend as he moved. As she predicted, Chat was on defense, but after the first minute was up, he started throwing punches of his own. She noticed they were well timed and had an obvious wind up, so the soldier was able to predict the moves and block them. The fight traveled this way and that as they spun around each other.
Soon, their time was up. Chat was grinning again, and he high-fived the panting soldier. "Nice job! What a great opener!"
The next few soldiers went, and after each fight, the soldier was left tired, while Chat looked as if he had just gone for a jog. There were a couple guys that put up a weak fight, and Marinette knew that they weren't making it through. However, Chat still congratulated each of them and gave compliments on any good moves they had made.
Halfway through, Chat took a break, and based on who had gone before, she knew she was up next. The others seemed to know this too as they cast her glances and muttered amongst themselves. Although she was growing irritated at the constant talking behind her back, she paid them no mind as she began her stretches, the ones Chat had taught her. On the other side of the clearing she saw him taking a sip from a water bottle. For a brief moment, she caught his eye, and he winked at her.
The bundle of nerves in her stomach loosened slightly. Right before the first task, she was imagining him here, and it got her through. Now, he actually was here. For the first time since he arrived, she felt a sense of comfort; she's not fighting some random soldier, but her best friend.
Just pretend we're training, she told herself. Pretend her and Chat were in their old clearing at some ungodly hour of the morning, and he was helping her train.
The break ended, and she and Chat assumed their positions across from one another. The rest of the soldiers grew silent as they all stared with rapt attention. Surely, accounts of whatever happened here would spread across the army in no time. Chat nodded his head at her. "Whenever you're ready." M'Lady, her mind filled in the word.
Just as she did before the previous two tasks, she took a deep breath to steel herself. Then, she sprung into action. She ran forward, feigning a swing with her right hand. He raised his arm to block it just as she sidestepped and caught his wrist with her left hand. She pulled on his arm and went to knee him in the abdomen, but he swiftly caught her leg with his free hand. She saw a flash of excitement in his eyes, and she felt it too. In no time, he had broken free from her grasp and took a shot at her shoulder, but she leaned back and narrowly missed his fist. He was going on offense right out of the gate, but she didn't waste a moment to think about it. They took swings at one another and weaved in and out, neither of them ever landing a hit. She was giving it her all, and she could tell Chat wasn't holding back as much as he was with the others.
A minute passed, and she could feel the exhaustion try to creep in, but she refused to slow her movements. She was determined to land at least one hit on him. It felt like less of a fight and more of a game, and the fact that she was taking her final test in front of her entire troop was completely gone from her mind. Right now, it was only her and Chat in the world.
She had just blocked another hit with her arms crossed out in front of her when she lifted her foot and kicked Chat squarely in the chest. He stumbled back a step before grabbing her ankle, and she knew it was over for her. Before she could be knocked off balance, Nino called it. "Time's up!"
Chat released her foot, and she righted herself again. She couldn't contain the delighted smile that spread across face. That was so much fun! He was beaming at her too, his expression nothing but proud. "Now that's what I call a fight!"
Chat raised his fist, and she bumped it with hers. Pound it.
Marinette laid on her back and gazed blissfully up at the leaves above her. She was still coming down from her high after completing the three tasks. It wasn't a surprise when Nino told her she had passed and was headed to the East Training Grounds next week. Until then, she had a few days off, and what better way to spend them than in her new favorite place with her favorite person.
Crunch. She glanced over at Chat, who was standing nearby, contentedly staring up at the sky and biting into a ripe, red apple. Her mouth dropped open in disbelief. "How did you get that?"
He gestured to the apple tree above her with his chin. "I picked it," he said through a mouthful.
She rolled her eyes. "Duh, but all the good ones are up top."
He swallowed before shrugging. "Perks of being tall."
Marinette rose to her feet and looked up, trying to find a low hanging branch. She began circling the tree and was disappointed when she found nothing she could pick. All of the apples within her reach weren't quite ready yet, and the only ones that caught her eye were a good six feet above her head. Her mouth watered at the sight of them.
"You must have found a low hanging one," she said, not believing for one second that he managed to reach any of the fruits up top.
He nodded his head side to side in a so-so manner. "Maybe I did, maybe I didn't." Crunch. He chewed thoughtfully as he eyed the apples hanging above them. "Looks like you're out of luck, M'Lady."
She eyed him, then the tree, and then him again, an idea forming in her mind. "Get on your knees," she said suddenly.
Chat nearly choked and quickly swallowed, turning bewildered eyes on her. "What?"
"Get down. You're gonna give me a boost."
"But I haven't finished!" He gestured the half eaten apple at her.
She let out a loud sigh, the low grumble in her stomach making her impatient. "Then don't drop it!"
Reluctantly, he got down on one knee and let her climb onto his back. He placed the apple between his teeth and hooked his arms underneath her knees before standing again. His back and hands felt warm against her, but she wouldn't let herself think about that. Her mind was focused on the task at hand. He carried her underneath the tree, and she spotted a branch with the two lowest hanging apples she could find.
"Okay, now a little to the right. Forward, forward. Wait, stop! Back a little…"
He gave a muffled groan of annoyance as he tried to position them in the right spot. She reached her arm up towards the fruit, but she was still a couple of feet short.
"Chat, I need to go higher."
He gave a sound of discontent, but she was determined. She pushed her arms up on his shoulders and swung a knee around before starting to lose her balance. Chat leaned in the opposite direction and quickly lifted her other knee over his shoulder. They stumbled and swayed for a moment until they had found their balance again.
"Goddammit. You owe me another one," he grumbled from beneath her.
Marinette glanced down at Chat's half-eaten apple on the ground in front of them. Looking wasn't a good idea, though, as the new height jarred her and she tightly gripped his hair to steady herself.
"Ow!"
"Sorry, sorry. Give me two seconds." Her eyes found the hanging fruit again, so tantalizing as the sun illuminated the shining red. She stretched an arm out, just barely reaching the apple before plucking it from its stem. She shoved it down the front of her shirt before quickly picking the other one. "Okay, you can let me down."
Chat lowered to the ground and she carefully climbed off him. He snatched the apple from her hand as she reached into her shirt to grab the other. He waved it in front of her face, and she fought the urge to laugh at his wild and messy hair. "This better be as good as the last one."
Marinette's eyes caught the backside of the fruit, and she reached out to grab his wrist. "Wait, don't eat that!"
Chat swerved out of her grasp. "Nope! You're not fooling me!"
"No, Chat, that's-"
He took a huge bite, and not one second later, his nose scrunched up and he turned to spit it onto the ground next to them. "Bleh!" He stuck his tongue out as he recoiled at the taste lingering in his mouth.
She sighed and shook her head goodnaturedly, "-a bad apple."
Felix rested his temple against his hand as he listened to the man before him drone on. And on. And on. If you had asked him who the man was or why he was here, he wouldn't be able to tell you.
It was close to dinner time, and this was the last official of the day who was forced into his presence. Felix couldn't care less about the man, but the official was honored to stand before him on the throne, as he had said multiple times. Felix had his eyes shut behind the long veil draped from his crown, his mind drifting as he thought of the feast awaiting him in the dining room.
The man stopped talking, and Felix let out a sigh of relief. His torture was finally over. "Is that all?" he said, his tone flat.
"Yes, Your Highness."
Felix waited, but he didn't hear the man make a move to leave. He felt a stab of irritation. "Then why are you still here?" he growled out.
"Well, um…" The man's voice was hesitant, and Felix cracked open an eye to see him staring at the floor, wringing his hands. "I-I came all this way, and…" the man let out a shaky breath, "I was hoping I could catch a glimpse of them."
Felix shut his eye again, unsuccessfully attempting to subdue the rising feeling in his chest. "Of what?" He knew exactly what this man was asking for, but he was daring him to say it.
"Of your eyes, King Adrien."
Felix's face twisted up in anger, and General Gauthier, who stood next to the throne, slammed his foot into the ground. "Don't dare address the King by his name!" he bellowed.
The man spluttered, and Felix couldn't even enjoy the satisfaction of hearing his panicked voice and scuffling feet as he was forcibly dragged from the room. The words rang in his head over and over, mocking him.
King Adrien.
Of course the sorry lump of a man wanted to see those precious eyes. They all did. Every. Single. One of them. Not many had the gall to ask him, but he could always hear the disappointment in their voices as they were dismissed from him. It had been a while since someone had been so blatant about it, but that didn't quell the rage he felt.
He ripped the veil from his crown, clenching his other fist on the arm of the throne. His throne. He, Felix, was the rightful King of France. His entire life he knew this to be true, but he was forced into silence as the country was duped into thinking otherwise.
His mother was the firstborn twin, not by very long, but she was the eldest daughter. His grandfather withheld this information from the public, and it wasn't hard for Felix to reason why. His aunt had been born with those eyes. His mother had not. When it came time for the proper heir to take the throne, they discovered the King had named Emilie the new ruler of France in his will. Nobody was surprised and nobody questioned it. It was like there was no other option for the throne, like it was always meant to be Emilie.
Early in Felix's childhood, he was made well aware of the truth. That the throne was stolen from his mother, and that his future throne was stolen from him. He was meant to become King one day, but he was stripped of his birthright due to the delusions of the commoners of France. His cousin had inherited the eyes too, and even worse, he and Felix were nearly identical. It was the universe's way of flipping him the grandest bird of all time; Felix had ended up in the exact same situation his mother did, watching his Emerald counterpart being prepped for the throne that was always meant to be his.
There wasn't a day in his life when he didn't seethe at the sight of his cousin. With his flawlessly coiffed hair and his coy smile as all the maids and servants practically doted on him, going on and on about the perfect Prince and his perfect, pathetic eyes. He was sure his cousin reveled in the attention he got, even if he continuously kept up that sweet, humble facade. It made Felix want to puke.
None of the attention was genuine. Felix knew this. The world was so infatuated with the idea of their Emeralds that it didn't matter what he did; everyone crawled at his feet and praised him like some sort of god. In reality, he was just a sad, pathetic little boy, raised with a silver spoon in his mouth.
Felix was the only one who dared to put him in his place, and he took great pleasure in doing it. His cousin was spineless, so Felix could say and do whatever he wanted to him without consequence. In a way, it allowed him to relieve the stress and anger that always brewed beneath the surface. Tormenting his cousin was one of the few joys he had in life, and if he ever took it too far, he would run to his mother and pin it all on Adrien. It was too easy. Amelie never hesitated to turn around and harshly scold the boy, despite the fact that Felix knew she never believed his lies. He would smile smugly from across the room as his cousin hung his head and waited out her tirade before disappearing into his room for the rest of the day. He never attempted to defend himself.
There came a day when Felix searched the castle for his cousin with a vicious prank in mind, only to find that Adrien was nowhere to be seen. In fact, Emilie was gone too. Hours later they reappeared without any explanation, and not a week passed before it happened again. And again.
It frustrated Felix that there seemed to be some secret royal duties that he was barred from, and so was his mother. Neither of them knew what the Queen and Prince were up to, but because they disappeared so randomly, Felix and Amelie were never able to predict their absence, so they couldn't find out where they were. That was, until Felix overheard a conversation between them in Adrien's bedroom.
He had been strolling through the hallway when he heard his cousin's soft voice travel through the crack in his door. "How long will it be before we can go again?"
Felix heard a quiet sigh. "After today, it might be a few weeks. But I promise, we'll go the second we get a chance."
Felix crept towards the door and peered inside. Adrien stood with an enormous sunhat clutched in his hands, and he was looking sadly down at his mother kneeling before him. "Can I buy her something then? I'm always getting pastries, and I want to give back somehow."
Emilie placed her hands on his shoulders and squeezed. "Of course, baby. I'll give you some money, and maybe the two of you can walk around town together. I'm sure you'll find something for her."
Adrien's face broke out in a grin, and Felix didn't stick around to watch him hug his mother tightly. He ran to his own mother and recited everything he had just heard. She sat on her bed and listened carefully to every word he said, and he could almost see the cogs turning in her mind as she processed the new information.
"It sounds to me," she said as a calculating smirk made its way onto her face, "like the golden boy has a girlfriend."
Felix's face twisted up in disgust. "What girl would be dumb enough to do that?" he spat, although a hint of jealousy crept up inside of him. He rarely left the castle, and although he had no interest in meeting new people, hearing of his young cousin's apparent escapades made him angry. To Felix, anything Adrien had was something that he deserved, even if he never would have pursued it on his own.
"A girl that's seen his eyes," Amelie said, her smirk fading, replaced by the same resentment Felix always felt deep inside. Her eyes bore into his as she spoke. "They're all shallow like that, Felix. Blinded by their delusions." She grabbed his hands and squeezed them tight. "But we can use this information to our advantage. Trust me, we won't have to wait any longer."
He furrowed his eyebrows at her in confusion. "Wait for what?"
Amelie smiled and led Felix to the full length mirror in the corner of the room. He watched her reflection as she moved to stand behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder while the other moved to straighten his perfectly combed hair. "Imagine it, honey. A crown, right here. Your crown."
He watched her hand move across his hair and let his mind replace it with the shining gold of Emilie's crown, the same one that adorned each of the French monarchs' heads for generations. The sight of it always made him brew with anger and bitterness, but that was because it was on the wrong person. As he stared at his reflection and conjured up his crowned image, the sight left a different feeling. It was a strong hunger, a need, for the power the headpiece carried, power that was rightfully his.
Amelie's smile grew at the fascination in Felix's eyes. She leaned down so their faces were right beside each other in the mirror. "I have a plan," she said, a devious gleam in her eyes, "and soon, we'll take what's ours."
For the next three weeks, Felix was restless with anticipation. His mother had sent out a trusted guard by the name of Gauthier to follow the Queen and Prince. They led him to a small town on the outskirts of the castle, where he confirmed that there was indeed a young girl Adrien was seeing. He had spotted them leaving a bakery and disappearing down the street together. Emilie had stayed in the building for a while before wandering the town on her own.
Felix didn't know what his mother was planning, but he didn't care. He wanted her to hurry on with it. Thoughts and daydreams of his potential reign as King of France consumed his mind, and he anxiously awaited the time when he could finally fulfill his desires.
It came the day that he nearly ran into Adrien, who was skipping through the castle like a schoolgirl. Felix could easily reason why his cousin was so happy; he was going to see his little girlfriend. So, Felix decided to confront him about it head on, hoping to spoil his cousin's mood and ruin whatever joy he would've brought out of the castle with him. He was sure to remind Adrien of who he was, how even though the whole country adores him and his eyes, he had no chance of being normal. Whatever relationship he thought he had would never last.
After their conversation, Felix was pleased to watch from his bedroom window as a much more somber Adrien left the castle grounds, tightly clutching his mother's hand. Felix spent the rest of his afternoon in lighter spirits, but then it started to rain. He didn't hate the rain, but the incessant pattering disturbed him as he tried to read his book. Eventually giving up, he wandered out of his room, looking for something more interesting to capture his attention.
In years to come, Felix would vividly remember what happened next. He had just entered the foyer of the castle's front doors, hoping that maybe his cousin had returned and he could busy himself with taunting the boy, when he heard footsteps outside the grand, ornate wooden doors. Without any warning, they burst open, rain splattering the floor as the wind blew water inside. Felix instinctively shielded his face with his arms, but he lowered them at the onslaught of sound on his ears.
There were so many noises filling the room at once. The steady drum of the rain, the splashing of countless boots on the path and steps outside, yelling, for some reason, but most prominently, the cries.
The cries of Adrien as he was dragged through the doorway by two soldiers, each gripping one of his arms. Stunned, Felix's eyes instantly found the large, washed out stain on the front of his shirt, and for a brief moment he thought the blood belonged to Adrien. But the boy fought desperately to turn around, and Felix's gaze shifted past him to see what demanded his attention.
He saw his uncle, normally so poised and composed, thrashing about as he attacked every soldier he could find. He saw them defending themselves, but never fighting back. Then, with a drop in his stomach, Felix caught sight of the wagon with what appeared to be a body inside.
In an instant, Felix knew. That was Emilie. His mind swirled as he processed this information, but curiously, he didn't feel anything more than shock. No pangs of sadness or grief, not that he had ever felt anything remotely like that in his short life. His eyes flew to his cousin again as the boy dug his heels into the stone floor, the soldiers roughly pulling him forward. His feet slipped and skidded from the wetness of the rain on his shoes, but he never once relented in his struggle.
Adrien had always been so mild and quiet, so the sight of him, covered in blood and rain and tears as he thrashed in their grip, caused Felix to take a tentative step backward. He was struck by the chaos surrounding him; everything was unfamiliar, uncomfortable, and wrong.
Not wanting to feel this discomfort any longer, Felix turned and ran. He ran until he was at his mother's bedroom door, and he burst in without a second thought. She stood at her vanity with her arms braced on the wooden counter. Her head whipped towards him, but she didn't look at him with her normally adoring and coddling eyes. No, her eyes were frantic, wild, and panicked.
She pushed off the vanity abruptly and pointed a violently trembling finger to the hall behind him. "Go to your room!" she commanded, but her voice shook. Felix stood rooted to the spot with wide eyes. This was the kind of voice she used on the servants, and even Adrien, but never him. When he didn't make a move to leave, she stormed forward. "Now!" He stumbled back through the doorway, trying to keep distance between himself and the woman not at all like his mother. Just before she slammed the door in his face, his gaze dropped, catching sight of the rain covered boots on her feet.
Everything that followed passed in a blur. Felix got exactly what he was promised, but it was tainted.
It was tainted by the fact that although the throne was finally his, it wasn't really his. He was still living in the shadow of his cousin, hiding behind the fact that he wasn't an Emerald. He was a fraud, tricking the entire country just as they were into thinking Adrien was ever supposed to be King in the first place.
After the initial shock wore off, he found he didn't care all that much that Emilie was dead. He didn't care that Adrien was sealed away, never to be heard from again. All he knew was the newfound power he had at his fingertips, and the rage he felt at the people of France for ever letting things progress this far, to the point where the only way he could claim what was rightfully his was to mask himself as someone he despised.
All of the fawning and groveling of the few people who ever saw him in person was never directed at Felix. No, the praise he got as King was meant for Adrien, for the true Emerald, because that's what was required to gain their respect.
As Felix sat in his throne, the official and Gauthier long gone, his mind flashed to the last time he spoke to Adrien. In the first five years of his reign, he never went to see him, thinking it better to pretend he didn't exist, but a particularly bad day had awakened the child in him again, longing to torment his cousin. It had been the first time he saw him since that day in the foyer.
"Thought you could use a mirror," Felix had said with a twisted smile.
A chuckle came from behind the bars. "Nah, I'm sure I'm still better looking than you."
Their final conversation was dissatisfying to say the least. His cousin had grown a sharper tongue, and in his frustration, Felix was thoughtless and impulsive. He revealed too much, thinking there would be no consequence as Adrien was supposed to stay exactly where he was.
Then there was Chat Noir. Not even a day later.
The masked man threw their perfectly balanced system into complete disarray. For months they anxiously looked over their shoulders, feeling like their entire plot was tipping precariously on the edge, with only one word from their escaped Emerald capable of sending them plummeting to the ground.
But as the months, and eventually years, crept on in silence, everything settled back to the way it once was.
Except there was always that nagging thought in the back of Felix's mind, that Adrien was out there. He was most likely dead as his mother loved to say whenever the topic arose, but none of them could be sure. And with whispers of a revolution led by Chat Noir mixed in, Felix could never truly relax, especially after the capture and execution of the five men found on the castle grounds.
What little he could enjoy of his reign was plagued by this alleged revolution, and after five years of fruitless attempts to find them with his incompetent soldiers, he knew it was time to put an end to this uncertainty once and for all.
By the time Gauthier returned to the hall, Felix had formed a plan. He ordered him to summon his advisors and waited impatiently as the two took their sweet time coming to him.
As she always seemed to do from the moment she stepped within earshot, Amelie managed to irritate Felix even more than he already was. "For the last time, Felix, you have to do these meetings with the officials. The whole job can't be glamorous." She sidled up to the throne with Gabriel trailing a few feet behind her and crossed her arms over her chest. "It's dinner time now, so let's just save it and head to the dining room already."
Felix scowled at his mother. Their relationship had become strained as they adjusted to their new way of life, one blinding factor being that it was her plan that got them into this mess in the first place. Sure, they both had the power they always wanted, no, deserved, but the means in which they were doing it stripped Felix of any satisfaction and left him with that familiar feeling of bitterness and resentment.
"I've called you for something far more important."
"What is it, Your Majesty?" Gabriel said, a slightly curious expression on his otherwise stone cold face. Amelie raised her eyebrows at him impatiently, and Felix purposely took a few extra moments to speak just to spite her.
"I have an idea, to confirm the revolution's existence," he said evenly.
Amelie scoffed and threw her hands in the air. "Seriously?! This is what's so important?"
Gabriel took a step forward, his attention fixed on Felix. "And what's your idea?"
Felix tapped his fingers on the arm of this throne. "We still have the old census records, correct?"
Gabriel's eyes narrowed in confusion. "I believe so."
A smirk crept onto Felix's face. "Then maybe it's time we perform another."
Amelie rolled her eyes. "And how is that supposed to do anything?"
Felix resisted the urge to glare at her, instead focusing on addressing Gabriel. "If there truly is a revolution, then they're in hiding. People must be going missing left and right. From what Gauthier has said, his soldiers have noticed this. If we take another census, we'll see just how many people are gone."
He could see the wheels turning in Gabriel's mind, and a crafty smile crept onto the man's face. "And then we'll know just how large their numbers are."
"If they even exist," Amelie butt in. "For all we know, these missing people just died."
"There's something called death records, Amelie," Gabriel glared in her direction.
She returned the stare. "And you really expect me to believe that every death in France has been accounted for? I mean honestly, we haven't taken a census in over ten years!"
"Which is exactly why we should do it now," Gabriel said, irritation growing on his face. "Compare the death records to those missing from the census. Question their neighbors about their whereabouts-"
"Which will be a complete waste of time!" Amelie's face was exasperated. "Honestly, we're already stationing soldiers around to sniff out this revolution, but we haven't found anything because there's nothing to find!"
Gabriel took a step towards her. "And the men we found on our grounds? What about them?!"
"We've been over this Gabriel! How many times do we have to have this conversation-"
"As many times as it takes to get through your thick skull!"
Amelie was very obviously offended, and she stormed forward and jammed a finger into Gabriel's chest. "You're the one talking! You've been so obsessed with this idea, and look at all the efforts we've wasted hunting down a ghost! We look foolish! The less attention we give these rumors, the faster France will forget it was ever an idea in the first place!" Her voice rose with every word as she stared daggers into the man before her.
"You're in denial, Amelie!" Gabriel's voice mimicked her volume, and Felix could feel the beginnings of a headache creeping in. Ever since Chat Noir's appearance, Gabriel and his mother never seemed to agree on anything. They were always arguing about something, and although Felix used to take their input when he was younger, he was an adult now, and he made his own decisions.
Felix vaguely registered the sound of their argument as it continued before him. "You can dismiss it all you want, but if there's even a slight chance a revolution could be building, we have to be prepared!"
"We are prepared!"
"We weren't when Chat Noir showed up!"
"But that was-"
They were interrupted by Felix slamming his fists into the arms of this throne, the sound echoing throughout the hall. Felix was so sick of these two.
"I don't care what either of you have to say!" he shouted before glowering at his mother. "This is our course of action, whether you like it or not. I'm only telling you out of obligation."
Amelie gestured wildly at Gabriel in frustration. "But you're only encouraging him and this ridiculous-"
"This is my choice," Felix said firmly. "To finally settle this argument." His tone had a hint of finality in it, not that his mother cared.
She spluttered for a moment before her expression turned angry. "But Felix-"
"You're dismissed!"
Amelie pressed her lips together, staring long and hard, and he stared right back. Then, she scoffed, and her expression turned into one of mock pity. "Fine. Go ahead and waste your time." With one last dirty look at Gabriel, she spun on her heel and swiftly left the hall, slamming the door resoundingly behind her.
Felix watched after her for a moment, the flames of anger in his eyes dimming to a simmer of annoyance. He glanced at Gabriel. "I trust you can make the arrangements?"
Gabriel's irritated expression had also faded away in her absence. He gave a curt nod. "You can count on it."
He took his leave, and Felix was grateful to finally be alone again. He blew a short puff of air from his nose. Whatever appetite he had was gone now, and he had no intention of seeing his mother again tonight. He pushed himself from his seat and swiftly walked to his chambers, slamming the door behind him.
Felix went into his bathroom and approached the washstand, grabbing the fresh pitcher of water and pouring it into the bowl of the sink. He splashed the cool liquid on his face before dropping his hands to grip the countertop. He hovered there for a moment, watching the droplets drip into the water beneath him. Then, his eyes traveled up to the mirror, and his disgruntled scowl deepened as he stared into his own black eyes.
He was a stranger, even to himself. The pinch of his eyebrows, the gray of his skin, the permanent frown on his face; he couldn't remember a time when he looked any different, yet he didn't see himself when he looked in the mirror. Not really.
Felix never knew the feeling of remorse or sadness. He never felt guilt or grief or joy, and if he lived in another time, he might have been referred to as a psychopath. It bothered him as a child how out of place he was, always feeling like he had to mimic those around him so as to appear normal, but there came a time when he stopped caring. Once he had gotten a taste of the power at his fingertips as King, he allowed the ever-present feeling of bitter resentment to consume him.
But in recent years, something else began brewing deep inside. A darkness, one that surpassed that of his eyes, a malice and hostility that only grew stronger as the days passed.
For a moment, his mind betrayed him as a flash of green replaced his dark stare, and he was confronted with the sight of his cousin. He clenched his jaw as the intensity in his eyes increased, rage finally bubbling up and breaking the surface. With a furious scream, he slammed his fist into the mirror, instantly shattering the image.
The next chapter is called "Free"