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2manyfandoms2count · 7 months

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The Spirit of Competition

Me? Back for a second chapter almost a year later? Looks like it! Sorry for the wait, this year has been kicking my ass on a certain number of levels, but I'm finally getting into a decent rythm that fits a bit of writing here and there - hopefully this story will get its end before the end of the month!

Hope you like the new chapter <3

Previous | AO3

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Chapter 2

“Maman, I’ve got it!” Marinette jumped up and down excitedly with her notebook in her hands, sending a couple of loose pages flying in the process.

Sabine smiled at her daughter’s enthusiasm; she’d spent months brainstorming ideas for this year’s Halloween contest. Her daughter was nothing if not dedicated.

“I can do this,” Marinette said quietly, as if to convince herself, frowning as she revealed her sketch.

“I know you can,” Sabine replied, pressing a kiss to Marinette’s forehead. “Did you make a list of what you need to make it?”

Marinette ripped out a page of her notebook and handed it to her, as if it would answer her question — and it did.

Polka-dotted fabric. Lots and lots of polka-dotted fabric.

—

Marinette strode through the Exposition hall with a proud smile, a few gasps sounding in her wake. Her polka-dotted Victorian dress was definitely a success with the audience; her tachycardic heart hoped it would be with the jury, too.

She slowed down when she reached the competition stages. She kept an eye out for the 8-12 year old age bracket line, which was far shorter than that for the younger demographic, and suddenly regretted leaving Sabine behind at the welcome desk to deal with signing up.

She sighed in relief when she finally caught sight of the sign, picking up her pace in its direction… and skidding to a halt when she saw the last person standing in line.

To someone looking quickly, the blond boy’s outfit was a classic Victorian suit, the black jacket cut in a thick, velvet-y fabric, which contrasted nicely with his silk almond-green waistcoat.

Marinette’s trained eye picked up on the jacket’s silky background below the discrete burnout cat-paw print of the coat, matching the waistcoat’s pattern.

Could it be?...

A disbelieving chuckle escaped her lips as she approached, making the boy turn around, and she got her answer. Him .

She hadn't seen him since her first costume contest, despite her yearly participation in the previous six years' editions of the contest; his face and name had already faded by the following year, although she'd held onto the idea that she had a friend potentially waiting for her at the Halloween exhibition for a couple of years. The boy had soon become a distant memory, and yet she continued to make ladybug-themed costumes so he’d recognise her, in case he'd show up again, hopefully in a cat-themed costume.

And he had.

His eyebrows furrowed slightly as he scanned her, his features finally brightening when his eyes reached her face.

"You!" He beamed.

His face had obviously changed with time, but the boy’s kind, green eyes definitely rang a bell. As did the literal bell he wore in lieu of a tie.

"You're back!" She grinned excitedly.

“Yes, finally!” He mirrored her. “My parents kept planning trips for the Toussaint holidays, but this year I convinced them to stay. I’m so glad you’re here too!”

“I’ve come here every year since the last time, and I’ve won every time,” Marinette announced proudly.

“I’m sure you’ll win again this year, your costume is beautiful.”

The boy solemnly inspected Marinette’s dress, walking around her to look at it from all angles.

“Thanks, I made it myself,” she replied, bashfully playing with the fabric of her skirt.

“Seriously?” His eyes met hers, full of wonder. “That’s so cool! You should definitely mention it to the jury!”

“You think?”

“Yeah! It’s a lot more impressive than having someone else make it for you.” He tugged on his bell. “Even though my dad did work hard on this costume.”

“It shows! Did you work with him?” Marinette asked curiously.

“My mum and I went to pick up the fabric, he worked from that and the theme.”

“I had to look up Victorian in the dictionary,” Marinette admitted conspiratorially. “And then I spent some time at the library to find inspiration.”

“My dad made me study everything related to that era when he received the theme.” He rolled his eyes. “Some of it was cool, but I wish we’d at least done a Victorian seaside retreat to be thematic, it would’ve been more fun than sitting in a dark room to watch slides all summer.”

“That sounds intense.” Marinette grimaced.

The boy was about to answer when Sabine came to join them in the queue.

“You’re all set, my love,” she said as she pinned her daughter’s number sign on her.

“Thanks, Maman!” Marinette stood on her tiptoes to kiss her cheek. “Look who’s here!”

“Hi, Ma’am.” Adrien shuffled shyly as Sabine turned towards him. “I don’t know if you remember me…”

“Adrien, right?” Sabine smiled warmly. Adrien nodded excitedly, and Marinette silently thanked her mother’s great memory with names. “Look at you, you’ve grown up so much! And that costume looks great, I think you two will be each other’s main competition this year once again.”

“Oh, I don’t know, a contestant-made costume is a lot more impressive.” He blushed.

“It’s true that my Marinette worked very hard on her costume.” Sabine stroked her daughter’s hair affectionately. “Is your mother here this year as well?”

“Yes, she went to sit down already, she was feeling a little tired.” Adrien smiled.

“Well then, I’ll see if I can find her. See you two later! Try and stick together if you can.”

“As if I’d stray away from my only friend here,” Adrien whispered as they watched Sabine walk away.

“No way I’m letting you go, I can’t remember much from last time, but I know it was a lot more fun than the other years!” Marinette laughed.

“Really?” Adrien looked at her with eyes that reminded her of a kitten.

She nodded, about to expand on the thought, when one of the organisers started calling the contestants to the stage.

“May the best of us win!” they both said at the same time.

—

“In second place, please welcome Adrien Agreste!” the jury’s president called out.

Marinette turned towards her friend, clapping excitedly. He smiled at her as he got up, and winked, but she didn't notice, too focused on the roaring of her pulse.

Her heart felt like it was about to burst out of her chest. If Adrien's costume had only gotten second place, then maybe…

"And the first place goes to… Marinette Dupain-Cheng!"

The laureate squealed and squeezed Sabine's hand, making her mother wince through her congratulations.

On stage, Adrien hooted.

Marinette sprung out of her seat and all but skipped towards the stage.

“I told you you’d win!” Adrien beamed at her from the second step of the podium.

“Thanks for giving me the tip,” Marinette answered. “About telling them I’d made my costume,” she clarified for his confused frown.

“I’m sure you would’ve been fine without it.” He waved her thanks away, before posing for the customary podium picture.

They didn’t get a chance to talk about it again, as Sabine and Emilie swooped in after they were done receiving their prizes, and they visited the other stalls, like they had six years prior.

“So…” Marinette looked shyly at her feet later, as the four of them stood in front of the exhibition hall, the Agrestes waiting for their car. “That’s one victory for you, and one for me.”

“You said you’d won all those other times, though?” Adrien interrupted her.

“It didn’t really count. You weren’t there.”

“Oh.”

“Anyway, we’re tied now, so you better show up again so get a clear winner!” She looked at him with a slight frown.

“Okay, I promise we’ll meet again.” He held out his little finger, and she held it wit hers.

“I’ll hold you to it!”

#funny how halving my part-time job's hours frees time up #who would've thought #miraculous ladybug #miraculous fanfiction #miraculous fanfic #ml fanfiction #ml fanfic #ml #mlb #adrienette #adrinette #adrien agreste x marinette dupain-cheng #sabine cheng #the miraculous tales of ladybug and chat noir #elle writes

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mlwritersguild · 2 years

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Parisian Holiday, by @deinde-prandium and @2manyfandoms2count

Assigned monuments: The Pantheon & the Canal St Martin

AO3 link; Alternate Universe, No Powers AU, Royalty AU, False Identity, Inspired by Roman Holiday (1953), Paris (City), Fluff, Fluff and Humor

Summary:

During a state visit to Paris, Prince Adrien Agreste finds an escape from his strict timetable. In the process, he crosses paths with Marinette Dupain-Cheng, an aspiring fashion designer turned tabloid reporter on a reluctant mission to score an exclusive scoop. She knows all about Prince Adrien. Or so she thinks.

For two days, Adrien becomes Félix, an ordinary tourist in Paris, and Marinette, his personal tour guide. As they make their way through Paris' most famous monuments, they might become a bit more than that – if their secrets don't get in the way.

-------------------------------------

Arts and History – The Pantheon

(Place du Panthéon, 75005 Paris)

A staple of the Parisian skyline, the Pantheon is also a cultural hotspot. Beyond the eternal rest place of French notables (Voltaire, Victor Hugo, Pierre and Marie Curie, Josephine Baker, to cite a few), it is also an architectural wonder with its impressive triple dome and colonnade facade, and boasts an extensive art collection. Physics enthusiasts take note! The Pantheon is one of the places you can witness the Earth’s rotation, thanks to Foucault’s Pendulum. End your visit by climbing up to the Panorama, and enjoy the stunning 360° view of Paris!

Even though she’d been the one to drag them down the sewers, Marinette was glad to re-emerge into the streets. There was something to be said about seeing where you put your feet, and knowing that if you did, you weren’t likely to step into something you didn’t want to identify.

She stole a glance at Adrien – Félix, she reminded herself. It was safer to think of him as such, lest she slipped up in conversation and gave the whole jig up. There was just too much at stake.

She had to admit that, so far, the prince was defying all of her prejudice against the upper crust (not that she’d had a particularly bad opinion of it before meeting him, but she had expected him to be a lot snootier). As they wandered around, a slight frown creased his royal brow, but something told her it had more to do with him falling for her sewer crocodile legend, than falling on the questionable sewer floor.

Just for that, she decided to give him something to smile about.

“So, Félix,” she said breezily. “Where would you like to go next?”

Adrien’s attention snapped to her, his eyes wide. “Where would I want to go?”

“You’re the tourist.” Marinette shrugged, amused by his surprise. “You don’t have indefinite time to see everything.”

“Right,” he sighed wistfully. He dug his hands in his pockets and kicked a stray stone off the pavement. His face remained closed for a moment, and Marinette feared that she'd been a tad too harsh; then, he lit up with a hopeful smile. “Anywhere I want?” he asked.

“Mhmm,” she confirmed.

He stared at her with star-struck eyes, like she’d offered him a pony, or whatever it was princes dreamed about. She felt her heart flutter in her chest.

“The Pantheon,” he finally announced, just as Marinette’s cheeks started to warm.

“The Pantheon,” she repeated, stopping in her tracks.

“Yep.” He stopped, too, and beamed at her.

“You’re in Paris for two days, and you want to see a bunch of dead people?” Marinette said slowly, scrunching her nose. Maybe she’d been right in thinking royals lived wildly different lives, after all.

“Actually, it’s not the dead people I’m interested in, even though I’m sure they’re all very important,” he chuckled. “I’m after Foucault’s pendulum.”

Marinette stared at him blankly.

“Not to steal it or anything!” he added quickly. “It’s just a really big deal in physics.”

He likes physics, she thought. It hadn’t been her favourite subject in school, but she supposed it hadn’t been uninteresting.

Adrien’s eyes turned to pleading.

“Fine,” she sighed, turning around and going back on her steps, mentally figuring out the fastest way to the monument. She heard a pitter-patter as Adrien jogged up to her, looking every bit like a golden retriever with his newly-cut hair falling in his eyes.

Marinette suppressed a smile at the sight.

The things she did for her job.

-----

“Wow,” Adrien marvelled as they stepped through the colonnade and into the Pantheon’s great marble hall.

Marinette could only nod in agreement. Their weekday visit meant that the monument was fairly empty, reinforcing the magnificence of it all; she felt tiny walking out in the open, the dome higher above them than she’d expected. She stared at the overarching fresca in awe, illuminated by a round window cut out at its apex.

“Ah, there it is!”

Her attention snapped back to Adrien, who strode towards the centre of the room where a balustrade defined a round area. Inside, a long wire hung from the ceiling, attached to a golden sphere which swayed to-and-fro with a small amplitude.

“I’d expected the movement to be more impressive, but I guess this still proves Foucault’s point,” Adrien muttered, resting his elbows on the barrier.

“And what would that be, again?” Marinette asked.

“That the Earth is spinning on itself,” he replied matter-of-factly. “See how the pendulum doesn’t go back on its tracks?” Marinette nodded. “Well, the pendulum’s axis doesn’t actually move; we do. If we didn’t, it would have a truly linear path.”

“Excellent explanation, young man,” a voice startled them.

A man, wearing what Marinette assumed was the Pantheon’s guards’ uniform, complete with peaked cap, had made his way to Adrien’s side, and had apparently been listening in.

“Would you like to reset the pendulum?” he asked Adrien.

Her companion’s jaw went slack. “Could I? Really?”

“Wait, why does the pendulum need to be reset?” Marinette asked.

“You see, young lady, in an ideal universe, the pendulum would swing all day long…” the guard started, hopping over the barrier to retrieve the pendulum.

“...but the friction makes it lose its momentum!” Adrien completed as the man handed him the wire.

“Exactly.”

Marinette watched Adrien reverently let go of the pendulum, which sailed through the circle before crossing it again in another direction. He looked mesmerised by the sight, his delighted smile widening with each trip of the pendulum; it truly baffled Marinette that he could be so enthusiastic about something so… simple. It made her wonder how he’d put up with his royal status, and his father’s reported strictness, for so long.

Her eyes wandered to the hall’s paintings as she decided to make his rebellious outing as memorable as possible. When they landed on Adrien again, he’d stood up slightly, and looked like he was looking for something.

“Everything okay?” she asked.

“Well, the guidebook said something about being able to climb up and get a view of Paris…” Adrien said sheepishly.

Marinette nodded and joined him in scanning the room for any signs. Their guard friend caught their search and made his way back to them.

“Maybe I can help you now,” he said with a smile.

“I think you probably will,” Marinette smiled. “We're looking for the way up the dome.”

“I'm so sorry, it hasn't reopened yet.” The guide grimaced and shook his head. “You'll have to come back in April!”

“Oh.” Adrien looked down at his shoes, his smile falling in the process.

Marinette's hands instinctively found their way to his forearm, squeezing it reassuringly.

“We’ll have to look into it. Thank you so much for your help!”

The man touched his cap and thanked them for the break. Adrien smiled at the joke, but Marinette noticed it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

She found herself needing to bring back his prior enthusiasm.

“Don’t worry,” she squeezed his arm again, and started guiding him towards the exit. “If what you want is to rise above Paris, then I have just the place for you.”

**********

Walks and Wanders – The Canal St Martin

(Quai de Jemmapes - 75010 Paris)

Extending over four kilometers, the Canal St. Martin has linked the Port de l’Arsenal to the La Villette canal basin since 1825. Punctuated with locks, swing bridges, Venetian-style footbridges, and lined with chestnut trees and squares, it is the focal point of one the most romantic places in Paris. Visitors can watch boats travel across the canal, while lovers and friends can soak in serenades by the water from the banks or bridges.

Adrien breathed deeply, taking aim in quiet concentration. Flicking his wrist, he let the rock fly toward the water at a perfect angle. It spun as it gently skimmed across the canal - once, twice, three times, leaving tiny ripples in its wake.

Satisfied, Adrien watched as the stone slipped below the surface. Despite the calm stillness of the canal, he could feel the hum of the city, its energy thrumming through his veins. He smiled, marvelling at how much he’d seen in such a short time. The whole day had been a whirlwind…just like the tiny powerhouse standing next to him.

Plop!

Whirlwind, indeed. No wonder she seemed to be struggling with their current activity.

“I don’t get how you’re so good at this,” Marinette grumbled. “Is it that whole physics thing? Something something momentum Foucault’s pendulum?”

Adrien chuckled, oddly thrilled that she’d remembered his interest in physics. “The physics of skipping stones is fascinating. Did you know the Japanese have a different word for it? Mizu kiri – it means, water cutting.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Are you trying to tell me that you learned how to skip stones in Japan?”

Adrien’s cheeks warmed, remembering the brutal critiques of a five-year-old Princess Kagami during their stone skipping “lessons” at the Japanese Imperial Palace. “Ah, I didn’t – I mean, no,” he stammered. “My friend taught me when we were kids. I’d practise at a pond near my house.”

At least it wasn’t a complete lie.

Marinette smiled in reply, but there was something in her eyes that made him think she wanted more. Not in the way that Chloe or Lila or even his father wanted things from him…rather, she looked at him like he was a puzzle, seeking to uncover a new piece with each stop on their tour.

Truthfully, he felt a little like that about her, too. The more Adrien got to know Marinette, the more he longed to learn about her. And as vital as it was for him to keep his identity a secret, with each moment they spent together, the more he wanted to tell her…

Adrien shook the thought from his mind. “I could teach you?” he offered instead. “There’s a technique my friend taught me.”

“Your Japanese stone skipping master?” Marinette deadpanned.

“Fencing partner, actually,” he corrected. He picked up a rock lying nearby, and held it out to her. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Pursing her lips, Mariette took the rock from his hand, then hurled it with all her might. It sank into the canal with a resounding plop , and she groaned.

Adrien grinned. “It’s an easy fix,” he said. “You’re raising your arm too high when you release it. Force helps, but it’s the angle that really matters. That, and finding the right rock.”

He bent down to select another stone. He reached over to grasp one, turning it over to examine its shape, only belatedly registering the small gasp that seemed to come from his companion. Adrien looked up to find a wide-eyed Marinette staring down at him. It was then that he realised he was kneeling right at her feet. “Sorry,” he mumbled, his cheeks colouring to match hers. “I just wanted the perfect one.”

“Of course,” she replied. He wondered if her voice was just a little breathier than before.

“Right, so…rocks,” he continued awkwardly. “They should be flat and smooth, and not too heavy. This one should work, but don’t throw it yet.”

“Why not?”

“There actually aren’t that many good rocks to choose from, so we need to save them,” he said. “First, I want you to practice shifting your weight like you would if you were going to throw it.”

Marinette scowled. “But how am I supposed to know I’m doing it right if I’m not throwing anything?”

Adrien blushed as the solution came to him. Tentatively, he stepped forward. “Um, I could…”

A beat passed, and Marinette’s eyes widened with understanding. “Oh,” she squeaked. “Yeah, that could work.”

Nodding, Adrien skirted behind her, gently placing one hand on her shoulder and grasping her right hand with the other. “Keep your arm parallel with the surface of the water,” he murmured in her ear. “That way, when you release the stone, it follows the same trajectory.”

Marinette nodded, letting him guide her hand in a small arc before moving it across the front of her torso - once, twice, three times, their movements languid as the water of the canal. Adrien paused at the last pass, suddenly aware of the fact that she was effectively standing in his arms. He inhaled shakily, taking in the faint scent of strawberries…

Focus, you idiot, he said silently. The last thing he needed was for Marinette to realise how much her closeness was affecting him.

“So…you fence?”

Adrien exhaled, grateful for the distraction her question posed. “My childhood was very…programmed. Lots of different activities,” he said. “My father said it would build character, and my mother said it would help me learn about myself.”

“Were they right?”

“Doubtful,” Adrien admitted. “I mean, I’m grateful for the opportunities that my family gave me. Truly. But I can’t say I really know who I am, other than a disappointment to them.”

Marinette froze in his arms. “You’re wrong.”

There was a touch of defiance, almost anger, in her voice that both surprised and amused him. “Oh?” he countered. “Who would you say I am, then?”

“Well, you’re a terrible drunk,” she snipped, refusing to turn around. “And despite all those activities, you’ve led a pretty sheltered life, which is probably why you’re scared of heights and enclosed spaces. But…you’re smart. And kind. And ridiculously talented at so many things, but humble. Like, I know you speak six languages – not because you told me, but because you’ve been helping tourists get directions all day. And you’re a total physics nerd, but the way you explain it doesn’t make me feel stupid…” Marinette sighed. “You’re just…a good person. That’s who you are.”

Adrien remained silent, stunned by an assessment of his character that, for once, had nothing to do with his wealth or lineage. Although she’d known him for less than a day, Marinette seemed to understand him in ways no one else did. She seemed to see things in him that he’d never thought to see in himself. What’s more, she seemed to believe in him.

He wanted her to believe in him.

He wanted her.

And he wanted to tell her everything.

The words slipped out before he could stop them. “There’s something else you should know about me.”

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