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aidanchaser · 16 days

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Song fic based around The Butterfly Effect by FJØRA

Read on Ao3

Link to Chapter 1, Verse One Link to Chapter 7, Bridge

Read Chapter 8, Chorus Final, below

the butterfly effect when you open up your soul Adrien doesn’t think this is his fault. His dream has been playing in the back of his mind on a loop, like an itch he cannot scratch away. Of course he’s going to explore. Of course he’s going to stick his nose into places that he shouldn’t. Of course he’s going to find things that were meant to be hidden away.

Adrien presses his fingers against the mosaic tiles, and doesn’t know if he’s relieved or disappointed to find the safe hidden in his father’s office. It’s another sign his dream had its roots in reality—in another reality.

When he opens the safe, he finds the grimoire from his dreams, but he finds no sign of the Butterfly nor Peacock Miraculouses.

He doesn’t know what he would have done if he had found them. The are almost certainly with the villain who has been terrorizing Paris this past year. He’d have been horrified to find them here.

He doen’t even know why he’s chasing these fragments from his dreams. Does he want proof that the girl behind the bakery counter is someone he truly loves or absolution from some past life where he ruined his friends’ lives and his own?

But, just like his dream, the book describes the powers of different Miraculouses. He recognizes the Black Cat and the Ladybug, of course. He’s familiar enough with them in the waking world. The Red Fox and the Turtle, though, he’s never seen in person, but here they are, with the powers that he remembers from his dream.

“There you are,” his mother says, pushing open the door just as he turns to the very page that describes bringing the Black Cat and Ladybug Miraculouses together. His heart pounds with the urge to know more, even as the anxiety at being caught churns in his gut.

“Mother, I—” But he doesn’t have an excuse.

She lifts her eyebrows as she sees the book laid out on his father’s desk and the safe door open behind Adrien. She seems to be doing some quick calculating and stalls by taking a sip of her wine.

Finally, she says, “That was Nathalie’s.”

He feels like he’s walking across thin ice, but if she isn’t going to scold him… he presses forward.

“Did Nathalie have one of these… powers?”

“We found two.” His mother comes closer and peers over Adrien’s shoulder to look down at the book. She brushes her hand against the picture of the Black Cat and the Ladybug kwamis in their true forms, then flips back to the previous pages.

She stops on the peacock.

“It was broken when we found it,” she says. “Your father’s been trying to fix it ever since she got sick. Like if he could fix it, he could fix her.”

Adrien swallows as he puts together the implication that Nathalie not only found one of these Miraculous but she used it and it killed her—just like what had happened to him in his dream. There was something else from his dream, something about his mother, that tugged in his brain but he couldn’t recall what it was. The memory of his own physical pain was too prominent.

“Does father still have it?”

“He does.”

Adrien is fairly certain that the villain who has been fighting Scarabella and Chat d’Ombre is a woman, but dread pools in his gut all the same. “He hasn’t used it, right?”

“No, I don’t believe he would.”

But the dread in Adrien’s gut does not abate. “You said Nathalie found two.”

the butterfly effect so long gone from the world When his mother begins to get sick, Uncle Colt and Félix come to stay.

When his mother begins to get sick, Adrien tells his father everything.

When his mother begins to get sick, the villain Holly Blue, who has been terrorizing Paris with the butterfly and peacock miraculous, vanishes without a trace.

In her place, Hawk Moth and Petit Plume pursue the Ladybug and Black Cat Miraculouses, certain there is no other hope for Emilie than a wish.

It occurs to Adrien one day, as he is doodling the Ladybug from his dream into his notes, that he’s allowed himself to become a villain once more, just like his nightmare. But it’s worth it, isn’t it? If he makes the wish right, this will be the last time…

“Are you drawing that bakery girl as a superhero?” Félix asks.

Adrien slams his notebook closed.

He looks up to see the classroom has mostly emptied. It’s only Félix, sitting in Nino’s old seat, since Nino decided to move into the empty seat next to Alya. Nino and Alya are lingering by the door, fingers laced together, but waiting for him and his cousin.

“You can admit you have a superhero kink, Adrien,” Nino says with a grin.

His cheeks burn as he shoves his notes into his bag, but he can’t explain to his friends that whatever he and Marinette Dupain-Cheng had belonged in another universe, and he is doing everything he can to bring it into this one.

“I mean, Nino certainly has one,” Alya quips, and Nino’s face flushes.

“Oh—like you don’t,” he spits back, and Alya laughs.

“Of course I do,” she grins and kisses his cheek.

Félix is unamused, as he always is by Adrien’s friends, and Adrien’s school, and Adrien’s life as a whole. He checks his watch. “Your father was quite clear we had to return before five, so if we want to stop at that bakery and watch—for the seventeenth time since I’ve arrived, I will point out—you try and fail to hold a meaningful conversation with a girl behind a shop counter, we had better hurry.”

Adrien slings his bag over his shoulder and tries not to think about the way Félix has always said, “your father,” and never “Uncle Gabriel.” But Félix is no less affectionate with his own father. The closest thing to intimacy with another human that Adrien has ever seen from Félix is the tenderness in his eyes when he takes his ill Aunt Emilie’s hand. Adrien thinks that has less to do with Emilie and more to do with the mother that Félix doesn’t dare speak of.

When Adrien stands, dizziness flits through his chest and into his head. He takes a moment to steady himself on his desk, hoping no one notices. But in his attempt to recover before someone can ask if he is okay, he moves too quickly and stumbles down the stairs. Félix is not fast enough to catch him, but Nino is.

With cat-like reflexes, Nino bounds the aisle’s step and catches Adrien beneath his arms before Adrien can hit the floor.

“You alright, man?”

Adrien remembers the aches of his nightmares and grits his teeth. “Yeah, I’m fine.” He is fine, for the moment. He lets Nino help him stand.

Alya’s brows knit together behind her glasses. “Maybe you should call your car instead of walking to the bakery.”

But Adrien knows if he and Félix call for a car, all that will mean is returning to a large quiet house with his mother dying just like Nathalie did, just like Aunt Amelie did, just like Adrien did in another universe. And if Adrien is lucky, his father will ask him to put on the Peacock Miraculous and give him at least a small reprieve from the cavernous mansion.

“I’m fine,” Adrien insists. “Félix is right; we should hurry.”

Félix says nothing, but his gray eyes survey Adrien more critically than usual.

“I’ll take your bag,” Nino says, already lifting the strap over Adrien’s head before Adrien can protest.

“Here, just to be safe,” Alya says, and links her arm with Adrien’s. Her other hand, once again, joins with Nino’s.

Félix follows, and Adrien can feel the hair on the back of his neck prickle, like Félix’s eyes are fixed on his back, like he can see the future in Adrien’s bones.

But it isn’t the future Félix is seeing; it’s only his own past, and his memory of the first time his mother had a dizzy spell, and the first time she tripped down the stairs, and the first time she collapsed in the garden.

And the last time.

let the light wash over Scarabella is getting sick of Hawk Moth and his painfully persistent partner. She does have to admit that Hawk Moth is a more bearable villain than Holly Blue, if only because he’s more careful about interrupting her school schedule.

Max once pointed out that the rare times Hawk Moth does attack during the school day occur with a 0% chance of Petite Plume making an appearance, and Scarabella does not like thinking that Petite Plume is a student somewhere just like her.

It’s one thing for her to ask for a friend’s help—to give Juleka the Tiger Miraculous for a day, or Kim the Monkey—but it’s another for a villain to use a child in his pursuit for power.

Today, she’s asked another friend for help. While Monsieur Pigeon is usually a fairly predictable villain, he must have been particularly peeved about something today. Instead of merely controlling pigeons, he’s gained the ability to turn people into pigeons, and the enormous Senti-Pigeon that Petite Plume has crafted keeps emitting sonic screeches that threaten to render her deaf.

So she chose the craftiest person she could think of to assist her and Chat d’Ombre today.

Monsieur Renard, in his orange waistcoat, complete with coattails tipped with white like a fox’s tail, scrutinizes the battle. His usually gray eyes glint with gold, and it takes him only a moment to offer a solution.

“Cataclysm the Senti-Pigeon, and I can manage it from there. Surely you can deal with Monsieur Pigeon.”

“We can’t get close to him. I was hoping you could help me with that and Chat could handle our other feather-themed friend.”

Chat d’Ombre is busy distracting the villains, dancing just out of reach of the pigeon wings, but his luck won’t hold out long.

“You want to send the cat to chase the bird? Typical,” Monsieur Renard huffs, but he does not have time to argue with her any further. There’s a high-pitched whine above them, the only warning they have.

Scarabella grabs Monsieur Renard and dives off of the building and rolls just out of range of the Senti-Pigeon’s sonic screech.

“Lead Monsieur Pigeon to the Seine,” Scarabella snaps at him, “and I’ll be ready.”

There is no room to argue.

Chat d’Ombre had accused her of being bossy when they had first started working together. Maybe she took charge readily, but it was her Miraculous that helped them come up with plans. His miraculous required a lot of care and precision, something he didn’t always take.

But their partnership had evolved and they had learned to trust each other. She’d fallen for him quickly; she’d had no idea he’d been falling for her, too, but rather the person she was without her mask.

Deciding to come clean to each other about their identities, despite Master Fu’s warnings, had only brought them closer together.

Scarabella called on her Lucky Charm for the second time that day. The first had led her to Master Fu, where she had selected the Fox Miraculous for Félix. Now, a mirror dropped into her waiting hand. She surveyed the banks of the Seine and the bridge where Monsieur Pigeon and his flock were chasing an illusory version of her and Chat d’Ombre. Overhead, Chat tousled with Petite Plume on the back of the enormous pigeon.

She didn’t see a need for the mirror, and she didn’t have time to work out a more detailed plan. As the illusory Chat d’Ombre and Scarabella dropped their disguises, revealing a pair of plain-looking young adults, and tossed the “miraculouses” into the water, Monsieur Pigeon dove in after them. Scarabella dove in, too.

As Monsieur Pigeon’s hands passed through the illusions, Scarabella’s hand yanked the whistle from his neck. His eyes widened with shock and confusion, but there was nothing for him to do. She snapped the whistle in two.

Scarabella surfaced and helped Monsieur Ramier to the edge of the water and up onto the bank.

The pigeons had gone, but overhead, the Senti-Pigeon still soared. It rolled suddenly and with a final shriek into the sky, it vanished. Petite Plume and Chat d’Ombre plummeted towards the ground, followed by a small blue feather.

Chat d’Ombre used his staff to stall his fall, and he reached for Petite Plume, but Monsieur Renard was faster. He leapt into the air, grabbed Petite Plume, and landed on the bridge. Scarabella used her yo-yo to snag the butterfly and feather out of the air and restore Paris to its usual ratio of persons to pigeons.

She hurried onto the bridge, where Monsieur Renard had Petite Plume pinned underneath his black boot. Chat d’Ombre landed beside her.

“He caught him,” he whispered breathlessly and let out a low whistle.

Monsieur Renard did not even turn to look at Scarabella and Chat d’Ombre. He reached down for the peacock-shaped brooch on Petite Plume’s chest.

Petite Plume’s gloved hands scrabbled desperately and futilely at Monsieur Renard’s leg. He tried to knock away Monsieur Renard’s hand, but pinned as he was, there was little he could do to escape.

“Don’t,” he begged, “please—”

Monsieur Renard pulled the pin from Petite Plume’s breast. In a flash of blue light, Petite Plume vanished, and in the light’s wake lay Adrien Agreste.

“Please,” Adrien begged, clinging to Monsieur Renard’s wrist, “Please don’t let it be for nothing.”

let the sun come closer Scarabella’s hands fly to her mouth, but it’s not surprise that coils through Chat d’Ombre’s chest. It’s anger.

“Why?” he demands. He tries to approach, but Monsieur Renard holds a hand out to stop him. There’s something protective in the fox’s golden glare that holds Chat d’Ombre back.

His hands tighten into fists at his sides, even as his ring begins to flicker. He had Cataclysmed Petite Plume’s amok and his time is limited.

Scarabella’s earrings, too, are flashing their warning. She takes a step forward, but is no more interested in challenging Monsieur Renard than Chat is.

“What could you possibly want with our Miraculous?” she asks.

“I don’t,” Adrien says, voice cracking with tears. “My mother—she wanted to bring back her sister and her friend—but she got sick—and my father—”

Chat swallows, and the target of his anger shifts rapidly. His father had made him do this?

“Let him up,” Scarabella says, “and hand me the Peacock.”

Monsieur Renard takes his foot from Adrien’s chest, and reaches a hand down and helps Adrien stand. He does not even stagger as Adrien leans on him for support. His other hand tightens around the brooch.

“The Peacock doesn’t belong to you,” Monsieur Renard says.

“I’ll return it to where it does belong,” Scarabella promises.

She reaches her hand out for it. Her other hand still holds her Lucky Charm, a compact mirror. Chat isn’t sure what it’s use was, but he sees a flicker of blue and orange in its surface and he turns, just in time to see Monsieur Renard—at least he thinks it’s Monsieur Renard—reach for Scarabella’s earrings.

He thrusts his palm into Renard’s chest, shoving him backwards just as the black-clawed tips of his gloves brush against Scarabella’s earrings. She gasps as the Adrien and Monsieur Renard before her shimmer then fade and turns to see the much-more solid Monsieur Renard regain his balance.

He’s changed almost completely. His eyes glint with red instead of gold. The foxtail-like coattails have transformed into an array of blue peacock feathers with brilliant red spots, and the stems of the feathers climb his orange coat. Around his neck hangs the fox tail and pinned to his chest is the peacock.

“You made a second illusion?” Chat snarls. “How?”

Renard’s upper lip curls back in a sneer. “You can push your powers, you know. If you don’t mind if it kills you.” He spreads the fan and plucks a feather from it.

“Wait, Félix—” Scarabella puts her hand out to stop him, and he snarls as she uses his real name.

“Don’t you dare—”

“Is it really Adrien? That was an illusion, but do you know—is that true?”

Félix hesitates, and Chat wishes Scarabella would make a move. They don’t have time to talk. They should be getting the Peacock back and asking questions later.

“Why do you think Adrien’s been getting sick?” he asks, and tosses the feather into the air.

colors take their form Chat d’Ombre lunges for Félix, but all of his power and cat-like reflexes are for naught. From the ground beneath his and Scarabella’s feet, Félix’s Senti-Snare springs to life, ropes tightening and coiling around Chat d’Ombre’s and Scarabella’s wrists and ankles as if it were woven from snakes.

“We’re not your enemy,” Chat snarls and yanks against the bindings, but they only tighten and tug him to his knees. His ring flickers down to his last minute. “We should be hunting down Hawk Moth, all of us.”

Félix reaches out for the ring, but a flash of light catches him in the eye, blinding him for a moment.

Scarabella flashes her mirror at him, but its a useless stall. Her power won’t last any longer than the cat’s.

“Hawk Moth’s Miraculous won’t save Adrien,” Félix says. He does not say that the Butterfly would not bring back his mother or save Adrien’s, but he can imagine all the things Adrien might have wanted the Ladybug and Black Cat Miraculouses for.

Once he has his sight back, Félix reaches for the ring once more. Chat d’Ombre tightens his hand into a fist as Félix pulls.

“It’ll come with a cost,” Scarabella warns. She, too, is tied fully to the floor and the living ropes continue to writhe and push her against the ground.

Félix squeezes Chat d’Ombre’s wrist until his hand flexes and he yanks the ring free. He’s startled when Nino Lahiffe appears at his feet, but he schools his features.

“It can’t be worse than it already is,” Félix says, and reaches for Scarabella’s earrings. He does not tell her how he can feel the tethers in the peacock, the strings that tie him and Adrien to their fathers. He does not tell her that he would gladly trade his father for his mother, if given the choice, and though he hasn’t asked Adrien, he imagines Adrien must feel similarly.

Scarabella snaps at his fingers with her teeth, but the pain of the bite means little to Félix as he wishes for a world where he has a family and a chance for freedom.

with the butterfly effect When Adrien wakes, the first thing he thinks is that it hurts to breathe.

He clutches his chest and rolls to the edge of his bed, wondering if he’s going to be sick.

“Are you okay, kid?” Plagg asks.

“Nightmare,” Adrien grunts and squeezes his eyes closed. He has so many nightmares these days. Nightmares about Monarch murdering his father, about being akumatized into Anti-Cat, about Ladybug crumbling in his arms…

This one was different, but thankfully it’s already fading.

Plagg hovers near his shoulder, offering his presence as comfort. Adrien appreciates his kwami more than he can say, particularly in light of some of the pieces of his memory that linger.

“I think I was sick,” Adrien murmured.

“Not this time,” Plagg says, frowning at Adrien and the empty bowl that now lives by Adrien’s bed to cope with the battles against grief and terror each night.

“No, in my dream,” Adrien says. “I think I was dying…” But the finer details are already fading.

He reaches for his phone to text Marinette—he always tells her when he’s awake from a bad dream, and she always calls—but he pauses, hand halfway to his phone.

His parents’ wedding bands glint in the dim moonlight. They were important in his dream, but he can’t quite recall why.

He remembers wearing the brooch. He remembers feeling a string, a tie, a connection…

“Plagg, I would know if I was created by the Peacock Miraculous, right?”

Plagg wrinkles his nose. “I think maybe you had too much cheese before bed.”

Adrien grabs his phone and texts Marinette.

the butterfly effect Marinette’s phone buzzes and she fumbles for it without lifting her head from the pillow. She sits up, shocked to find her pillow wet with tears. She wipes her cheeks dry and tiptoes down to her parents’ room.

She presses her ear against the door and hears her father’s snores and her mother’s breathing. Something tight in her chest unwinds with relief.

She climbs back upstairs and Tikki stirs on her pillow.

“Marinette, why are you awake?” Tikki murmurs.

Marinette knows what the text from Adrien says before she opens it. “Adrien had a bad dream,” she says. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

The finer points of Marinette’s dream are already fading, but she remembers something about Adrien wielding the Butterfly and Peacock Miraculouses. She swallows and can’t help but wonder if somehow Adrien ended up with the Butterfly after his father died. But she can’t imagine it—can’t imagine Gabriel would so desperately beg her to keep it all from Adrien if Adrien had any idea of the truth.

She gnaws on her lower lip and her thumb hovers over the green call button. She knows this world has been altered by Gabriel’s wish, but it wasn’t remade, right?

“Tikki, if we were living in a Recreation Wish, we would know, right?”

“Probably not,” Tikki yawns. “There’s always fingerprints from an old reality left behind, though. Connections and friendships and,” Tikki yawns again, “other things,” she finishes sleepily.

“But how do you know if your world is the right one?” Marinette asks.

“There is no right world. There just is.” Tikki closes her eyes and curls up on Marinette’s pillow.

There are a million universes bursting in and out of existence in Tikki’s mind; Marinette cannot fathom the nature of existence the way a kwami can. All she can do is trust Tikki.

She calls Adrien; she doesn’t tell him about her nightmare, and he doesn’t tell her about his. Instead, they talk about everything and nothing until the sun rises.

the butterfly effect

#the butterfly effect #ml fic #finished ml fic #felix fathom #adrien agreste #scarabella #miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug fanfic #miraculous ladybug finished fic #now that its done you may be asking what was the point and the point is just that i like angst but i dont like unhappy endings

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thelastpilot · 1 year

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Knighted- Chapter 9

You mean that fic you started in 2017 and update once every few years??? Yeah that one. I'm so sorry, lol If you need to re-read heres all the chapters. Royal Guard!Nino and Princess! Alya

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6 Chapter 7, Chapter 8

There was never a more agonizing 35-40ish seconds of waiting in all his life. The amount of time from Nino confirming his fears of Alya’s disappearance and the replacement guard for the night to arrive was seemingly infinite, and certainly enough time for him to imagine the absolute worst.

The likelihood of her being in any kind of danger yet from anything other than him was practically non-existent. She was in an incredibly well guarded castle with guards of all kinds on nearly every exit and any man in the castle who could gain something from harming her would have no reason to do it yet. A ransom was better sat on for a while, but in a way this fear was ridiculous. She was in her own home, but the reason behind her being restricted in her movements at all was because of the vast number of visitors the castle was currently entertaining. Every stuffy, important council member came with an entourage of their own guard, and the individual intentions and loyalties of these men could not possibly be fully screened. So as an added precaution against threats the King commanded the guard to oversee the restricted activities of his daughters, specifically Nino. He had specifically commanded Nino to oversee this exact task, and yet.

Here he was.

Nino left in what was surely a suspicious hurry, but for the first time the complete disrespect of the senior guards actually worked in his favor. The very instant the night guard replacements started to crest the final step, Nino was in motion. His gate was one fraction shy of far too fast as he desperately scanned the area and tried to determine the most likely path for a stubborn, bull-headed princess to flee, and he considered his options as they occurred to him.

He could feasibly A) alert everyone of her disappearance to best ensure her return and basically hand his job over as he did so.

B) Tell no one and fail to find her, and for his failure basically hand his job over anyways,

Or C) try and make it look like he wasn’t there at all when she went missing and hope no one clarifies the timeline.

Now C wasn’t genuinely an option, he knew he’d have to take responsibility no matter what nor would he want to sacrifice the other guards to save his own skin, regardless of their treatment of him. They may be sordid old men but he was not… even if this would cost him everything, he would do what was honorable.

But he’d much prefer to do no such thing, and just get her back in her damn room without anyone noticing at all. In reality, all the guards had a lot to lose from letting her slip by, so if they were smart they’d just shut the hell up about the whole thing.

Or sell him out to ruin him.

Nino shook his head, trying to clear his rapidly spiraling thoughts and do his job. He couldn’t worry about himself, he had to worry about her. Taking care of the princesses was his job, and he was going to do that whether they liked it or not. The twins may be his main charge, but he also had a responsibility to Alya.

With that in mind, he got to work.

He descended the stairs nearest to the royal chambers quickly, knowing these passageways were largely reserved for servants. At these hours they would be growing sparse for the night, long laborious chores carried out near firelight likely claiming the bulk of the workforce’s attentions. The staircase itself bottomed out into a sheltered flat space, and though he noted there were guards pacing the area, a quiet, witty girl could still possibly get through. If she had managed to slip such a densely guarded hallway, he had no reason to doubt her infuriating tenacity.

Nino looked around, making assessments such as these to rapidly decide which ways she couldn’t go, and breaking down the search from there. Her goal was undoubtably to slip out of the castle all together, meaning she had only one real option, which was the main gate. To go anywhere else would require keys she did not have and patience she likely lacked. The path down to the courtyard from the royal chambers was winding, and he was infinitely grateful that he was not slowed down in the way she probably was. He could traverse hallways in a fraction of the time she could, and to be honest, he felt a subdued sort of giddy feeling at that.

He was a royal guard. While in full armor and in high attendance to the royal family he was permitted nearly everywhere with few exceptions. While it might look suspicious for him to loudly clank his way into a hallway, stare every guard in the eye before whirring around and vanishing down a side passage, he wasn’t actually doing something he wasn’t allowed to.

Nino slid into a dim corridor, which was quite the feat in metal boots to be honest (and fairly loud), and quickly accessed his surroundings, his heart sinking to see no guards in sight. He was near the bottom now and this would soon let out into the courtyard, these storage rooms holding nothing of value that needed to be locked away or looked after. She’d have a dead sprint from here to the open night, and she had quite a lead on him. If he had even correctly guessed her path, he reminded himself. However, his pessimism warmed just slightly as he looked to the end of the corridor.

The door leading out into the courtyard was ever so slightly ajar, the torch light of a passing patrol illuminating the dark stone of the wall. Nino’s pulse quickened as he approached, regretting his noisy entrance now and approaching the door quietly. Surely, he had paced her… surely she hadn’t made it so astonishingly far, but he knew better than to underestimate her.

His heart was racing as he reached for the door, waiting until the torch light faded before slowly pushing it outward, just enough to see.

From his nearly crouched position what he could primarily see was flowers. They were all garish, exotic flowers, the big kind that had unnaturally vibrant colors and attracted flies and beetles. They were foreign though, and he assumed they must be a symbol of wealth of some kind. The kingdoms natural flowers were certainly more pleasant, but rich folk didn’t always care for that sort of thing, which is why this garden wound its way all beneath the guest chambers high above. This garden, the West Garden, was not the one known to be tended to by the Queen (likely why it was so unpleasant up close) but it looked extravagant from a distance he was sure. The stalks were thick and the creeping plants were tall, a suitable place to hide, if not to take your daily strolls.

Nino entered the garden as quietly as possible, closing the door behind him to mimic how he had found it. His body was tense and he could feel his own panic building, doubting himself still and wondering if he was just wasting time. If he was wrong about this he’d have to explain why he waited so long to say anything, he’d be fired but even worse she could get hurt. Worse than anything the princess could be putting herself in danger, and he needed-

He stilled.

Ahead of him by forty yards or so in this long, stinking garden was a subtle flash of movement, amidst a particularly thick row of bushes.

His breath caught as the movement flashed again, and he saw the unmistakable white hem of a dress drag against the ground. He could hardly see her she was crouched so tightly in the dark, but her fidgety movement gave her away. She hadn’t seen him yet, overly confident in the path she had taken and focusing only on the path again.

He made the critical mistake of looking away, leaning out a bit to get a look at what she was so focused on. As he did so he saw to the edge of the garden and further still, out across the bare cobbled ground of the courtyard. Appropriately, a patrol of four guardsmen were passing them by, their torches flickering with their steps. They were headed towards the main gate still far in the distance, and as he assessed it, he saw a shape dart through the dark.

He turned to look as a woman ran, attempting he figured in some way to look casual, if anyone could look casual while clearly trying to evade notice. The unseen guardsmen manning a blind spot she hadn’t accounted for shouted out in surprise as she tried to cling to the darkness of the wall, and she only dared a handful more steps before the patrol turned to look.

Nino looked on in horror as the princess was caught, guards quickly turning to attention and hurrying towards her. It was a fool’s plan and doomed for failure but he couldn’t help the way his heart sank with her posture. Alya stilled… and quieted, refusing to move at first. He could see it even at a distance, as he hurried to stand and stumbled forward.

He could see how straight her back became, how resigned her posture appeared.

He didn’t have a plan as he approached them, hustling now as he saw her fist ball up in the fabric of her dress. He had a lot of things to say but didn’t have the faintest idea what kind of order to put them in.

So the first thing he settled with was a lie.

“Hold on! Hold on, it’s alright! She’s with me.”

Nino stiffened under their gaze, a crowd of armored men turning to look at him in surprise. He wasn’t sure how he appeared but didn’t have the time to worry about it, floundering slightly as Alya herself turned to regard him.

He hesitated for possibly a moment too long as he finally joined the group, gesturing to the princess. “She is with me. Um… her highness, she requested a walk before she retired for the night. A bit of fresh air. Um,” he wavered, desperately trying to sound flat and orderly as Alya gave him an incredulous look. “I was trailing behind at her request, so she could have some space. I’m sure you thought she was out here alone but, clearly, that is not the case. Because I am here with her.”

There was a beat of silence.

“So all is well,” he concluded, hot panic settling on his shoulders as the men looked between themselves. He saw some kind of expression flicker across Alya’s face that he didn’t quiet catch, deciding in a moment that that was probably for the best. The silence was tense, before finally, gratefully, Alya cleared her throat.

“Yes… that is the case. I just wanted to have a bit of time in the courtyard, that’s all. This kind guard agreed to accompany me. I apologize if I frightened you somehow, I know I can walk… briskly.”

As she said this she moved slowly to his side, the awkwardness of the whole encounter starting to get to them.

“Ah, well… it’s quite alright, your highness,” the guard who spotted her finally relented. He shot Nino a weird look which Nino only matched with a nod.

“It’s getting late your highness,” Nino said pointedly, glancing to the side at her. She was looking up at him thanks to their somewhat significant height difference, and he did his best to keep his tone neutral. “Is that enough fresh air for one night?”

Alya tensed and let out an audible exhale, clearing her throat again and flattening her dress. As he turned to look at her more fully he noticed her slyly scraping some dirt from her shoes, her tone stilted as she said, “Yes, I should think so. If you could please return me to my room.”

“As you wish,” was his only reply, relieved as the other men began to drift away.

Alya turned quickly on her heel, brushing past him and walking without further prodding towards the closest entrance. He couldn’t quite place the feeling in his chest as they headed for the steps, noticing that she was stubbornly refusing to look at him at all for a while.

He was struggling with what he thought of it as they entered the hallway, starting the walk back through familiar walkways with no commentary.

When she finally looked back at him her face was full of something like embarrassment and stubbornness, and he could not help himself as he settled on at least one of the things he was feeling.

He was feeling smug.

"I wasn't-"

"Oh, I’m sure you weren't."

"I was just-"

"Of course."

"I was going to-!"

"Surely your highness," he quipped with a note of finality, surprised at his own boldness but unable, truly unable to help himself. He couldn’t deny his irritation, relief a prominent feeling as well. And smugness, there was definitely smugness.

She huffed, facing forward again and marching quicker. He wasn’t going to complain for that, and even if he was still wise enough to have a chill up his spine for upsetting her he had reason enough to believe she wouldn’t have him hanged for a little back talk.

Get him hanged for losing her though, that surely she failed to consider.

She had set the pace sharp and fast, probably eager to be rid of him, but as they got nearer to her room her steps slowed. She dropped back a little, like she was trying to drag it out, and as she did… his stomach sank a little.

He felt like he was marching her to prison.

He was trying to rationalize with himself that he was just doing his job, when suddenly he heard her speak, so quietly he almost missed it.

“The poppies are going to die soon.”

“Your highness?” he asked, trying to step closer but she stayed ahead of him, looking away.

“The poppies in the field,” she replied, just as quiet. “They’ll be gone within a week. I was just…”

When she didn’t finish, their steps were the only thing he could hear. He struggled with what to say, that sinking feeling changing into something else that was harder to name. Something near to guilt but… smothered by his responsibility. He tried to speak, but she didn’t look at him, and he didn’t know if he was supposed to.

His nerves at what to do reached a breaking point as they finally neared the royal chambers, Nino actually starting to feel a bit sick. He internally berated himself for panicking but, he couldn’t help it. He could tell from Alya’s stilted steps that she too was feeling anxious, but at their approach rather than the silence. Neither of them knew exactly what they were going to say next.

His jaw was taut as the time was lost to him. They cleared the final step, and all too soon he was forced to step up to face it head on.

As they approached the guard did as they were trained to do and turned to appraise whomever was seeking access. However, what they certainly did not expect to find was someone who was, as far as they were aware, already inside.

There was an audible sound from every guard gathered, all six men tensing when they saw the eldest princess standing stiffly. She had her head held high and her chin up as they strangled out a gasp of sorts, the most shocked coming from the two most panicked personal guards Nino had ever seen.

“Wh- y- your highness!”, one of her personal guards shouted, looking at his partner, and then at the door they were guarding, and then back to the princess. “You weren’t-,”

“Princess!”

“Lahiffe!” barked a guard, “What is the meaning of this?”

The men all took a step forward, Alya’s two guard’s descending on them quickly as Alya held herself straight, prepared to try and regain control but feeling caught out. Nino instinctively took a step forward, not even considering the possible ramifications of doing so but choosing to put Alya behind him as the men moved towards her. He could clearly see the flash of rage in their expressions when he did it, but Nino was too on edge to care, bolstered in his stance when he felt Alya take a step behind him.

“Well- I just-” Alya began, taking a deep breath to defend herself to the crowd,

when suddenly everyone’s blood ran cold.

At the pointed sound of a door opening.

Alya and Nino both paled in horror as her royal highness, the Queen of Aquitani stepped from her room, every man frying on the spot as she abruptly entered a situation they had no grasp on. The men were reeling from the moment as it was, and suddenly before the Queen?

Nobody knew what the hell to do.

Marlena took an innocent step forward, obviously having been wrapped up in her own thoughts as she stepped out of her chamber. She didn’t look up at first as she assessed some scroll of paper she held in her hands, only looking up to find the nearest guard when she was satisfied with the message she had prepared.

What she hadn’t been expecting, was to find six fully armored men scattered about the hallway and not at any of their posts, looking desperately caught out with her daughter staring wide-eyed at her from behind a seventh guard who looked like he was going to pass out.

Marlena took a moment to look between them all, before straightening up and settling on her daughter. “Alya, what is this? Care to explain?”

The silence, for a moment, was deafening, every man gathered rising to complete attention and clinging to their formal training for some clue of what to do here. Nino did not miss four of the guards subtle attempt to get back to where they were supposed to be, no doubt hoping to blend in to the scenery itself and leave the situation to the morons that were involved in it. As the slunk back to their spots as professionally as possible Nino had just enough time to lock eyes with Alya’s two personal guards.

The message was clear.

‘Don’t do it boys. Don’t fucking do it.’

Alya cleared her throat unsteadily, fixing a smile to her face as she stepped out around Nino, staying close to his side however as she greeted her mother.

“Mother! Hello, I hope we weren’t disturbing you, no everything’s alright. I just, I wanted to see how to twins were uh, behaving! I had heard them getting loud and wanted to make sure they were behaving for their guard but I knew if I said something in front of them they'd deny it and Nino, their guard" she prefaced, unsure if her mother remembered his name and gesturing to him awkwardly, "He might not want to say, in front of them. so I uh, I..." Alya stalled, losing momentum underneath her mother’s withering gaze. She looked to the side at Nino, and to his horror he realized he was expected to help lie.

To the QUEEN.

Nino floundered for a moment, standing up as straight as he could as he said, “Um, your Majesty. The princess called me out briefly at the end of my shift, to discuss the twins. I was um, debriefing her on their behavior at her request- which is why we are out here… in the hallway.”

“Yes,” Alya quickly agreed, nodding confidently, and giving her mother a warm smile. Her personal detail were sweating bullets as they spoke, trading a glance between each other, and looking uncertainly again to Nino. He gave them the exact same expression as before.

‘Don’t do it.’

There was an awkward beat for a moment before Alya said, “How are you mother? Doing well?” And another cheesy smile.

“Hm,” was all Marlena replied at first, narrowing her eyes slightly and looking to the other two guards who hadn’t managed to fade away as convincingly as the others. “Is this the truth?”

Everyone in the hall felt cold as ice, every man here having a choice to make. To tell the truth would put them all at risk of punishment, or even reassignment. Regardless of whatever it was that the new guy had pulled off they were all present for when she must have gotten past them and they were all liable for her well-being. But she was FINE and she was here, and the new guy had somehow fixed it, so the only thing the truth would get them was trouble. All the men gathered could practically feel this sentiment radiating out of the commoner guard, standing tall (if a bit pale) and taking a ridiculous gamble to keep his job. And really, wouldn’t any man do the same if in the end it was no harm done?

The personal detail traded one last glance between them before turning towards the queen, both of them nodding obediently in confirmation.

“Yes your Majesty,” they both echoed, Marlena quirking an eyebrow but making no comment at first.

The queen looked between all who were gathered, squaring her daughter with a serious look, before finally she relented.

“Very well then. My day was fine sweetheart, and while I’m happy to see you minding the girls you should be getting some rest.”

“Yes of course mother, I was just going to bed.”

Alya gave a tight curtsy to her mother out of respect, the guards present giving their finest bow. The Queen turned to give one of her own guards her message, and Alya began to head for her room without further prompting. Her guards escorted her a bit more firmly then was completely necessary, but she allowed it without complaint.

Nino lingered, looking quickly between the Queen and Alya’s retreating form, but the princess was almost completely obscured by the guards who quickly ushered her away. She was lost from sight behind shining armor and stiff formalities, until abruptly the door was shut, and he was out of place.

It took only a few more seconds before the glare of the guards started to pressure him to leave, the panicked energy of the two guards who almost lost it all being converted into postures more befitting a pair of statues. Still though, Nino found himself staring at the heavy oak door… before leaving with what he might have said stuck in his chest.

With his station replaced he had no reason to stay and doing so any longer than he had would surely draw the attention of the queen again, so leaving was the only smart thing to do. It was the ONLY thing to do, because that was his job.

So why then, did he feel choked?

Nino hurried down steps, anxiety creeping up his arms and making him eager to get to his quarters. Before he had been tired, but now he was alive with nervousness. His smugness was as dead to him as his weariness, and the only thing he could think of was the princess.

There had been no closure, everything had happened too fast. Yet he ran through it in his head and it all felt like years apart.

He had meant to be playful, in a way. He had felt smug catching her as he did (or rather catching UP to her) and was foolish enough to tease her in what little ways he could. But her embarrassment in the hallway had been real, and while she had nearly cost the livelihoods and careers of every man in the wing, he too had caused her some humiliation. Not to mention the comment she had made about the poppies… the quiet whisper of her voice…

Now if all things were equal, what she had done was far worse than any transgression from him. Yes he’d caught her out and made an awkward moment for her, but she seemed to have no understanding of the kinds of consequences her actions could have on others. There is no reason they all should have had to lie to keep their jobs, she shouldn’t have been trying to lose them their jobs in the first place!

So maybe that’s what he was feeling? Angry? He mulled it over as he quickly stepped to the side, narrowly avoiding a train of servants toting sheets and blankets.

He clung to the corner and rounded the final rung towards the guards quarters, but before he could cross any real distance the thought was mostly gone from his mind.

No, he decided as he entered the empty common area, he wasn’t angry.

Well maybe he could be, he was irritated but he could understand it from her perspective too. Brief though their interactions had been Nino didn’t truly believe that Alya was trying to harm anyone. If anything she probably had some far flung reasoning that escaping meant SHE was clever, not that THEY were incompetent. And that’s all well and good if that’s what she believes, but in the scheme of things that doesn’t really matter.

Nino allowed himself a heavy sigh, surprised to find himself alone for a change in his tiny, shared room. He was free to disrobe noisily, and for a moment he was tempted to let his armor all crash to the ground, but of course he didn’t do that. He took the weight of each piece into his hands, dusted them off, and set to cleaning them each one by one. Even as he engaged in this nightly ritual he found that buzzing, choking feeling in his chest hadn’t subsided, and the feeling he was grappling with remained frustratingly nameless.

It wasn’t his place to judge a princess, and certainly not to assume her thoughts or intentions. He thought he’d make a pretty poor attempt at it if he even tried, but still. Her actions were a little thoughtless, it may have been some kind of game to her but it wasn’t a game to them. Didn’t she understand that they were all just doing their jobs? The people who guarded her with their lives were not babysitters to be slipped or enemies to overcome. Each and every one of them had sworn fealty to her family name.

His hands slowed over the pauldrons of his armor, examining the warped reflection of his own face in the dim of the room. After a beat he rolled it between his hands, tracing the less refined interior of it . Because things always looked a little less refined on the other side…

He could sympathize with her frustration. Hadn’t he given the same grace to the twins earlier that day? And every day since he’d been charged to them? They were restless and restrained, for their own safety yes, but he couldn’t imagine how maddening that was. If his whole life was in a small stone room, reading and waiting and sounding smart and waiting and looking right and waiting and waiting…

He hummed a little to himself, flipping the pauldron lazily and catching it again, examining what he could make out of the room around him in its face.

Okay so he understood, he wanted to make it better for her, but that didn’t negate the risk of what she did. What if she’d been lost? Or hurt? Kidnapped? He wished the world was safe enough, that she could be normal but that just wasn’t the case.

He sighed. The feeling in his chested ebbed a bit as he confronted what he was feeling as a mixture of irritation and regret. He would have risked just a little bit more if he could have smiled, or even traded a look.

He hoped she understood that he was sorry, in a way. As much as he could be. As much as was reasonable.

As he sat there in his half armor he let the pauldron droop in his hands… and he wondered how much more he could risk, to say what little he’d had no time to say.

----

The next morning, Alya lay awake in her bed but left her eyes closed. She knew it wouldn’t be long before she was ushered away. Today there were the departing arrangements for the guests of theirs who had traveled the furthest, and there were political farewells to be made. She’d be expected to attend their closing sentiments and stand smartly off to the side as they spoke with her father.

She waited dejectedly to be told to move, allowing her sullen mood to have her for awhile. She wasn’t one to wallow, she knew she would wake and shake it off and just get on with it… but for the moment she allowed it. Just for a moment.

When the door to her chambers opened, she didn’t have to look up to see who it was. And she also knew that this particular handmaiden was perfectly aware of the fact that she was awake, her subtle weight settling on the mattress near her feet.

Alya sighed before cracking an eye, rolling her head to look at her favorite maiden. The girl had always been a blessing to her and was among the very few she’d be bold enough to call her friend. For a princess was afforded so few of such a precious thing.

Marinette gave her an unimpressed look, raising an eyebrow before looking away in an attempt to hide her smirk.

“So,” she started plainly, smoothing out her simple dress. “I heard you had an unsuccessful escape attempt last night.”

Alya groaned immediately, rolling over to grab a pillow and slam it to her face in one motion. She could hear Marinette snort and she projected to be heard through the goose down. “WHY did the guards say anything?? I thought they weren’t going to say anything??”

Marinette leaned over to pluck a stray goose feather sticking out of the pillow and held it pinched between two fingers, allowing her highness a moment to thrash in embarrassment before continuing. “Well if it makes you feel any better I don’t think anyone other than me knows, if I wasn’t the gossip would be all over by now.”

Alya pushed the pillow back enough to glare at her, but Marinette remained annoyingly resistant to it. “Then how do YOU know?”

“I’m a special case.”

“Oh?” Alya glowered at her as the maiden seemed suddenly distracted by something, looking down at her apron before looking away again, an eager yet nervous smile on her face for some reason. By the time she looked back at her again, the giddiness was clear in her entire being and she was wiggling a little on the bed.

“Yes, cause you know I had needed an explanation. It looked VERY strange when I was approached this morning, especially with what he was asking me to do so obviously I made him tell me the whole story.”

She gestured to her apron pocket, and for the first time Alya noticed a small, folded cheese cloth just barely poking out.

“It would have been a bit suspicious otherwise” Marinette continued vaguely, almost too giddy to finish. “Had Nino just given me this with no explanation I could imagine it would look a little… out of place. Which is probably why he was completely flushed head to toe when he was telling it to me. He was very insistent that I reassure him it was perfectly appropriate, I think he might have bolted otherwise.”

At the mention of Nino’s name Alya sat up, leaning over to look a little closer at what Marinette was referring to but the maiden pulled away, probably to prolong the drama. The princess frowned then, a bit put out by the mention of the twins’ guard. He had protected her, lied for her even to get her out of trouble but…

She wavered, wondering what she was so annoyed about. She decided quickly it was at Marinette, who was dancing away from her now pulling a vase from a forgotten place on the wall.

“Oh get to the point! What did he say? What did he give you?”

Marinette grinned widely, setting the vase down on a nearby table but returning to her highness’s side to carefully pull the bundle from its place, handling it as if it were made of gold. “Oh nothing much…”

Slowly she extended the white cloth, bulky and loose as if surrounding something frail as Marinette explained, “He had wanted me to say for him that he was sorry for embarrassing you, he was just trying to do his job. And that he wanted me to give you this, before they were all gone.”

Finally she unfolded the cloth, gently, and the Princess looked down to see what had made her maiden so excited.

Alya froze, only her mouth moving as is parted in a silent gasp. She thought too her hand must have frozen, but after a time, her index finger reached out without her command to do so.

And stroked a single red petal, of summer’s last poppies.

#knighted #knighted chapter 9 #ml fic #djwifi #nino lahiffe #alya cesaire #royal au #this was written before Nora existed so she isnt really a thing in this #tlp writes #im so sorry i didnt finish this #i still love this fic #forgive me please im updating it now!

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