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marinette-sky · 5 years

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Incantation of the Heart

A/N: Hey guys! Its been awhile since I have posted any sort of writing or fanfiction here! I finally finished the first part to this ML magic au, and man let me tell you...this took forEVER! I got stuck on writing about clothing! Can you believe it?? But yeah, hope yall enjoy this! (also, my ao3 is pamplemousses so check me out if you like what you read <3)

Summary: Marinette Dupain-Cheng was a village mage who had made a comfortable life with her magic shop, ‘Ladybug’s Spells and Potions’. However, her fairly repetitive life was thrown into a tumult when Adrien Agreste, also known as Adrien the Enchanter, abruptly settled in her village one sunny morning.

And he just so happened to be her new neighbor and rival vendor.

Now, Marinette was never very fond of change, but by the will of the gods if she was not overwhelmingly enamored with this one.

Word Count: 3,519

Rating: M (well, right now, its a cool T/G rating, but future content will be M)

Marinette had been tending to her garden that sun-drenched afternoon when the Change occurred.

The entire day leading up to that exact moment in time had been pleasantly uniform---which is how she preferred it to be. Marinette Dupain-Cheng had woken up promptly before sunrise to prepare various brews and elixirs for impending customers, which took her exactly until the first rays of light seeped through the cottage windows. After a minimalistic breakfast of rosemary tea and blackberry scones, the mage busied herself with dusting the wall of grimoires taking up residence on one side of the shop.

As soon as that was done, she took to the task of arranging the herbs she laid out the night before into their designated parcels to place neatly in the vacant spots of their shelves. When she finally settled behind the shop counter, steady streams of clients were waiting for her.

Not to say that there was not the occasional hiccup in her otherwise repetitive lifestyle, because there definitely were. Still, this bump in her day-to-day schedule was of no ordinary caliber. Oh, no.

The change just so happened to be Adrien Agreste, notoriously known as Adrien the Enchanter.

And he just so happened to be her new neighbor and rival vendor.

Now, Marinette was never very fond of change, but by the will of the gods if she was not overwhelmingly enamored with this one.

Adrien stood across the gravel road in front of the now-sold establishment, surrounded by moving crates and helpers. Although it was a fairly warm fall day, he looked sophisticated in a cinched black waistcoat and tightly-fitted slacks, his white button-up rolled above his elbows. His hair stopped midway down his neck, and the way the sun caught on his honey-blonde locks made out as if he were wearing a halo.

Even from afar, and only viewing the back of his being, Adrien was evidently well-built like the gods harvested him from the Garden with the perfect bolline. It felt as if she was gazing upon the male incarnation of Aphrodite and his crown of falling stars.

And if she stared too long, Marinette knew the god before her would turn around and reveal his true, glittering form and steal her vision away.

Suddenly breathless at her own spinning thoughts, Marinette ripped her gaze away from the male and instead focused on the bolline she had been previously putting to use by digging little pockets in the dirt for her wolfsbane seeds. Wolfsbane only germinates in riposte to fresh snowmelt, which is why it’s best to plant them in the early fall so that when winter comes they will have had long enough to ruminate. The budding herb was particularly popular with her customers for its antidotal effects on many poisons and the curse of lycanthropy. Because the seed placement is such a tedious process, it is crucial for Marinette to pay special attention when she sows them.

She would simply have to introduce herself later.

Determined, the mage worked fervently to finish the task she had started, trying her hardest not to think about Adrien. Minutes passed fairly quickly when she got into the groove of things and a good half hour went by before the last seed was bedded and sprinkled with specially iced water. Marinette beamed with pride at her handiwork, settling back on her knees to admire the yard. On each side of the stone path that lead directly to the shop entrance lay her numerous gardening plots that extended until the divider from the shop next-door stopped them. Every plot was nicely aligned and labeled so that customers could peruse for specific ingredients with little difficulty.

Sighing in content, Marinette let her stare wander across the way where all the excitement had been earlier. All the moving crates had disappeared from the street and the helpers were nowhere to be seen. In fact, only Adrien himself remained…and was he looking at her?

With a jolt, she realized he was indeed peering at her with an expression she could not pin down from a distance. Like a firefly in a mason jar, she panicked and considered her possible routes of escape.

Alas, too little too late.

Now he was waving good naturedly at her, flashing a charming smile that could make any glacier melt from its warmth. Marinette refrained from swooning.

Now he was walking (or rather, striding) over the gravel road to greet her from where she was kneeled in her garden. Why couldn’t he have caught her in something more appealing than a dirty pinafore?

And now he was standing a breaths-width away from her, shadowed by the sun and hand extended for her to take graciously. Marinette could scarcely move for a few dizzying moments before coming to her senses and accepting his out-stretched appendage.

“T-Thank you.” Marinette managed to mumble, hyper aware of how firm and balmy his grasp was. Though they had only just met, he was squeezing her hand like they were long-time friends.

Adrien just nodded courteously and revealed another blinding smile.

“Think nothing of it! I’m Adrien Agreste, the new charms merchant around here. Despite what the name of my shop says, I can assure you that it is only a sobriquet.” Marinette spared a glance to the sign above his shop, which read ‘Chat Noir’s Charms and Hexes’. The names itself piqued curiosity in the mage, but she decided to hold her tongue until they got introductions out of the way.

Besides being popular for the title Adrien the Enchanter and his skills, he was also quite known for being a restless spirit. Adrien moved from village to village, opening up shops under different names and leaving under no discernable circumstances. His father, Gabriel Agreste, was an extremely gifted warlock in the occult world with very deep pockets; it was assumed that’s where he got the resources and funding to hop from place to place with no debts to pay.

“O-Oh, uh, I already know who you are, since you’re kind of well-known in the occult world…” Marinette cringed at the comment and cleared her throat. “A-Anyways, my name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng and I’m the owner of ‘Ladybug’s Spells and Potions’.” She gestured vaguely to their surroundings, smiling to soothe the stiffness of her manner.

“Lovely to be in your company, Marinette.” Adrien replied without missing a beat, much to her relief. He let the pleasantries hang in the air between them as he took a moment to look around. His eyes seemed to sparkle when he restored eye contact with her again. It made her heart skitter in her chest.

“Are you a witch, by chance?” He suddenly burst, leaning forward ever so slightly. This made Marinette grimace and look away.

The pedestal she had put Adrien on shrunk.

Witch.

The very term was borne from the slew of bad apples that plagued their history as magic users, as mages. To her kind, ‘witch’ intoned to the forbidden practice of dark arts and blood rituals as a way of getting tasks or jobs done. Although she had delved little interest in the history, to dabble in forsaken magic was implicit to entering Lucifer’s den. Once a mage sought out the Devils’ shadow magic, the natural power coursing through their veins became irreversibly tainted, much like a poison apple.

But, as the old proverb proves, ‘one bad apple spoils the barrel’.

During the dark ages, witchery became popular and numerous covens were formed, forever tarnishing their kins’ reputation. Hell, Marinette had ancestors that were active participants and leaders of these covens. Disturbingly, Marinette had heard hushed whispers from her own parents about her grandmother being a savant in witchery—

She did not wish to further ponder the matter.

Marinette let out a tired sigh.

“Adrien, I know you did not mean any harm by it, but please do not refer to me as ‘witch’. I’m a mage.” She informed him seriously, and then added, “Actually, around here, I’m referred to as Marinette the Mage.”

Upon hearing this, Adrien’s face crumpled like dead leaves in the autumn breeze, smile drooping to an ashamed frown. What little skin he was showing paled, and color rushed to his cheeks.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to offend you, and on our very first meeting!” He hurried to amend his mistake, holding up his hands apologetically. “Please don’t think badly of me, it was my mistake!”

Adrien was so distressed that Marinette felt a twinge of regret in her heart. Just a twinge, though.

“It’s, uh, quite alright Adrien. Really, you didn’t know.” She soothed awkwardly, combing her hands through one of her pig-tails to keep her fidget-y hands busy.

“Are you sure? I just grew so excited; it has been far too long since I have made the acquaintance of someone of your kin.” Adrien gave her a nervous stare, lips parting as he leaned inwards. “As you know, magic users have become less and less of a common phenomenon from the lack of…breeding.”

Oh, gods.

Momentarily strung by this, she mutely nodded.

He wasn’t wrong, seeing as many magic users become so caught up in their own powers they essentially wither into ill-socialized hermits, refusing to marry in fear of having to pass on any of their hoarded knowledge of magic to a heir.

“Y-Yes, I’m just surprised you forgot calling someone like me a ‘witch’ was offensive.” She giggled in good humor to assuage his discomfort. “Ah, perchance could be you’re too—”

Marinette caught herself before she could finish with ‘sheltered’. Gods, that was close. She would rather be stripped of her powers than ever say something so bold to his face, and in such a casually brazen manner too.

Adrien, jumping at the distraction, slanted his eyes curiously at her. A small smile dangled from his lips, but it was vastly different from the polite one he wore when he first greeted her. He couldn’t know, right? Marinette felt very warm all of a sudden.

“Too what?” Adrien asked coyly, cocking his head to the side in the most natural way possible. He gazed at her from beneath his eye lashes, batting them innocently.

Marinette had a sinking feeling that he knew what she alluded to.

Could enchanters gift themselves the power of telepathy?

Oh, gods, she was finished.

“N-Nothing, forget it! I should probably take my leave, midday rush is about to start.” Her face flamed despite the chilly wind that gusted against them with impressive bravado. Adrien let out a short, harmonious laugh that Marinette knew would ring in her head the rest of the day.

“On that note, I should get back to my shop. I promised an old friend he could visit, maybe you know him?”

“Oh? Mayhap I do.” Marinette amiably replied, glancing at the sundial that lay nearby. They were really cutting it close.

Then again, Adrien Agreste was worth the fuss.

Adrien grinned devilishly. “Well, I guess I’ll have to invite you over next time he visits for you to find out. Bring a friend, too. I would love to get to know you more...”

He half turned away, and breathed her name like it was the most charming thing to have uttered at that moment, “…Marinette.”

And with that Adrien whisked himself from her sight like magic, leaving Marinette in a state of utter and total disarray.

No wonder he donned the title Adrien the Enchanter, because he had already cast an enchantment on her heart.

Two weeks puttered by without incident and the Autumnal Equinox was almost upon Yoke Elm Village, much to the excitement of Marinette. The autumnal equinox was essentially the first day of fall, which was a big deal to the supernatural and superstitious residents of the village. To celebrate the ushering of a new season, a festival was being held in the town square that evening.

“Alya, hand me another bowl, I’m about finished with this one.” Marinette said as she grinded her incense mix of marigold, passionflower, and fern into the mortar. This was the last batch of ceremonial incense she needed to complete before they could pack all the sets onto her cart to sell before the festival began at sundown. Marinette had been handpicked to be a vendor for the special occasion, having been given the honor to make the traditional incense that would lighted for the sacred ritual that evening.

Unfortunately, Adrien had also been chosen to contribute to the festive event, being given the task of supplying harvest charms to all the farmers and horticulturists as part of the ritual.

In those two weeks of preparation for the event, both Marinette and Adrien had not seen hide or tail of each other (except for their run-in at their local sundry market, which is how they found out why the other had been so preoccupied).

It frustrated Marinette to no end.

It also frustrated Marinette to know that her close circle of friends was getting to know Adrien better during this time period without her.

Though, that was all by chance, of course.

Marinette met with Alya that same day and chattered happily about her intense infatuation with Adrien Agreste. Alya, excited and mystified by her best friend’s abrupt obsession with Adrien, hung onto to every detail. In fact, Alya went out of her way to meet Adrien after their talk. She caught him right as he was about to leave for a rendezvous with an “old pal from his adolescent years”, who turned out to be Alya’s boyfriend of two years running, Nino Lahiffe.

They all got along splendidly, from Alya’s recounting of their outings.

Pushing the thoughts from her head, the female sighed deeply and held out her hand for the next bowl.

“Mari, there are no more bowls to hand you.” Alya waved to the empty counter before them, “We’re done.”

Marinette raised an eyebrow at her friend’s plural suggestion.

“Pardon me, I mean you’re done.” Alya tossed her auburn hair behind her shoulder dramatically and carefully pushed off of the bench they were both occupying to avoid snagging her cape.

Alya had already donned her festival wear before venturing to Marinette’s cottage. She fronted a shimmery tan cape gown and a long, thin black cape tied around her shoulders. The tan fabric was layered with black lace from neck to floor, a small slit going up each side of the dress. A black corset belt sat snugly at her waistline, nearly hidden from view by the smooth tulle cloak that encased her figure. To top it all off, Alya had chosen to wear elbow-length gloves that matched indiscriminately with the corset belt.

Needless to say, she was alluring enough to earn the blessing of any grove faerie and harvest god that gazed upon her that evening.

“That’s what I thought.” Marinette let out an entertained laugh as she stood up to remove her work apron, feeling accomplished and relieved that the hard part of her work was done. All she had to do now was transfer all the incense to her cart and book it down to the festival.

Marinette and Alya quickly gathered up all the incense in their baskets and exited the mage’s work shed, which was located behind her shop. The work shed was usually where Marinette tinkered with her magic; inside, she had a work bench, a mixing cauldron, and a three tier shelf that contained all her most prized and precious spellbooks. Additionally, it was where she stored her market stall cart, but that had already been prepped with decorations and moved to the foyer of her home.

The duo entered the shop through the back entrance and hastily loaded all the incense onto the cart. With Alya’s help, the task was finished with plenty of time to spare. While Marinette was busy re-adjusting a frilly bow tied to the bar of the dolly, Alya pounced on her with unexpected vigor.

“What in the--” Marinette yelped, finding herself being steered by strong arms.

“Marinette, we need to get you ready!” Alya cooed as she forced her away from the foyer and towards the stairway on the other side of the shop. “You want to look good for your darling Adrien, right?”

“Erm, well—I wouldn’t call him that, but yes—,” The mage stuttered, affronted by the affectionate nickname.

“That’s what I assumed. Now, cease your henpecking ‘round the incense and go get dressed!” Alya did an impression of a crotchety woman, which caused Marinette to giggle. Alya took this as an opportunity spin her in the direction of her room, successfully tearing her away from the cart.

When the mage began to protest more, she winked playfully, revealing the coal powder dusted on her eyelids, “I’ll look after everything else while you’re away!”

“But—”

“No arguing! Come, come!”

Marinette pursed her lips in resignation as she was hustled up the stairs, the sudden activity causing the picture frames on the wall to tremble as they passed. Thankfully, none of the frames tumbled from their perches by the time Marinette reached the threshold of her bedroom, which was a wooden trapdoor embedded in the ceiling. Magical sigmas had been carved all around the frame of the door, meant to ward off any evil spirits and ill-intending creatures that bumped in the night while Marinette was slumbering.

At least, that was what Marinette told people.

She smiled to herself at the thought as she vanished into the ceiling, the trapdoor rattling as it sunk back into the frame.

Less than half and hour went by before Marinette finally emerged from her chambers, taking great care not to snag her dress on any of the splintered wood railing as she descended the steps to her foyer. Once she reached the bottom, she practically flew into the adjoining room where Alya was, eager to show off her newest hand-crafted creation.

Alya looked her up and down, whistling appreciatively.

Marinette had decided to match the theme of her gown to the theme of the festival, hence her look being less revealing and more accurate to the history of the event. She had taken an A-line chemise and sewn it to a black, calf-length skirt to establish the dress silhouette. After a bit of needle magic, she turned the skirt into jumpskirt and proceeded to add tulle underneath the body of the gown to fluff it up (for extra measure, she added a silk lining under the tulle to keep it uniform). Marinette then embroidered an elaborate pattern of falling leaves onto the skirt, using magic thread to make the leaves change colors periodically. For the chemise top, she spelled the plain white color to shimmer under moonlight and made the shoulder-sleeves sheer. She also sewed a strip of lacy ruffles along the front buttons and along the collar, making the color outline of the ruffles a gradient of reds, oranges, greens, and browns. As a final touch, Marinette donned an underbust corset to complete the look. In addition, she wore black stockings and lace-up boots.

“What do you think? This one took me ages to finish, even with a bit of magic.” Marinette did a little twirl, lifting the skirt up in a mock curtsy. This made Alya giggle.

“It looks incredible! You look incredible! I just know Adrien will think so, too.” Alya circled Marinette, absently caressing the dress fabric in admiration. It really was an intricate gown, with all the patterns and magic done on fabric.

They both chatted excitedly about the dress for a minute or two more before deciding it was time to leave for the festival. Marinette and Alya hustled the cart out of the cottage door with little difficulty, although there was a bit of a fuss when Alya stubbed her toe on a cobblestone and cursed loud enough for passing festival-goers to throw them annoyed glances. Nonetheless, they both pushed the cart out onto the main road and began their trek towards the townsquare.

Before Marinette could completely leave, she remembered she had not closed up the shop. She rushed back to the cottage, telling Alya to continue on without her. Once she was well up the road and out of earshot, Marinette ducked herself back inside and called out to the shadows.

“Tikki! You can come out now, we have to go!”

A red blur darted out from the stairs and zipped right into her awaiting palm. Tikki yawned and stretched out her arm-like appendages, smiling sweetly up at her as Marinette tucked her into the pocket of the gown. As she was leaving, she swiped the black cloak hanging on the coat hook by the door. It had little embroidered ladybugs lining the edges of the cape and hood, as well as a gold clasp. The mage donned the cloak and swept outside, locking the door as she went.

Marinette fumbled in the midst of her rush to meet Alya, her mind on the weight in her pocket.

Ah, yes. Tikki was a secret she would take to the grave.

#my writing #ml magic au #ml #miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #ml fanfic #ml fanfiction #ao3 #alya cesaire #nino lahiffe #tikki #plagg

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