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He didn’t know how things got this complicated.
Or rather, he did, but he didn’t want to admit it. Because admitting it would be partially admitting that when his father told him not to go chasing things that weren’t within his reach, the old man actually might have been right. Never mind the fact that his father was king of the ocean and that did require a little bit of wisdom—
This was a bad idea.
Adrien would never admit it out loud, but this was a bad idea. Not the worst idea, swimming up to a sinking ship and rescuing an unconscious woman might have been that—But this was a bad idea.
Because said unconscious woman, who he may or may not have traded not only his fin but also his voice for, was already engaged. She already had someone to love, a prince from afar that she’d known since she was God knows how old, and she’d told him as much when she found him on the beach just a day later, assuming that he was a young man who had also miraculously escaped the wreckage of the ship she rode on.
She’d already told him everything; how the prince and her used to throw stones in the sea, and how the two would sit in the lounge while he’d play on his fiddle for. How the prince gifted her books about the sea and how she used to go out at night dreaming about all the creatures who didn’t exist in said book, then the prince would scoop her up in his arms and take her back to reality. She’d already told Adrien that she was nervous to be a bride, but knew she’d be okay because the prince was her friend and that was half the battle—She just needed to be sure that she was doing the right thing.
And Adrien, cursed to never speak back, had listened; referred to jokingly by the name of Chat, since he seemed to recoil whenever near water—Never mind the fact that he was actually terrified that if he stepped a single toe in the ocean his father would drag him back in.
At this point drowning seemed like a great idea. The sea witch had offered him no reprieve when she stated that he would simply remain as a human for the rest of his days if the princess never loved him, knowing that an eternity spent with your loved one just out of reach was far more painful than any death.
And now he loved her far more than before.
First he loved the princess he saw on the boat, the composed and calm girl who always seemed to know what to do. But then he met Marinette, the girl who picked him up from the ocean, the girl who hid behind the crown—now love was a tidal wave that he couldn’t get out from under. Because the girl he had seen before, the Princess, wasn’t clumsy. She didn’t snort when she laughed, she didn’t dance until she fell over—At least, it didn’t seem like she did. But now that she knew her better, it turned out that she did. It turned out that Princess Marinette was this enigma that was slowly consuming him…
And still not his. Even if his hands flexed when he saw her dancing, wishing to ask for her hand. Even if she laughed when he pulled faces and told him all about the mermaids she dreamed of.
Eventually he would have to accept that she never would be his, that she belonged to this world, to this prince, to this life that was never his.
“You’re brooding again,” she said that night, finding him on the balcony alone during yet another ball. “You miss home, don’t you?” He was always surprised how she seemed to know when he needed her, but he could never tell her that.
He could only look away and stare at the ocean.
“You know I had a dream once,” she said. “Of a boy who was handsome and elegant, who was confident yet reserved. I’m not sure, but I think he was my true love. I keep putting off this wedding because it’s all I can ever think about.”
He heard her voice grow closer yet could not bring himself to look at her. He didn’t want to hear it; he didn’t want to know about dreams that he would never be a part of.
“I think he belongs to the ocean,” she said. “I think he will never be mine. I imagined him once, when I was deep below the waves and could not breathe. I thought I heard him say my name, telling me that he’d come back for me.” She paused, her tongue running across her lips, “it was a strange dream, because he had a tail and gills, and I knew that he couldn’t be real.”
He felt her hand land on his shoulder, but he couldn’t bring himself to look up, couldn’t put on the same mask that he always did. Tonight was hard, tonight he missed home more than ever. He didn’t need to know that she thought him to be nothing more than a dream as well, not tonight.
Her hands ran across his jaw, lacing through his hair and forcing him to look at her, to take in her large, blue eyes and the way that they watered. A small prick of fear hit him, leaving him to wonder what caused such a thing.
“But sometimes I like to pretend he is,” she said, her thumb running across his temple. “Sometimes I like to pretend that silly little magical miracles happen. I just can’t prove them, or really be sure, but…” her lips reached upwards, pressing against his for a second that felt far too brief for all that he felt, “sometimes I believe it. I keep thinking that he’ll find me, just in a way that I least expect, one that I can only hope for.”
She didn’t even allow him to breathe before she moved. She didn’t even allow him to realize what had happened—
“Wait,” he said, unknowing that the words even fell from his lips. “Marinette—"
And though the prince stood in her ballroom waiting, though the waves screamed for his return, though he shouldn’t have even been there; she said, “I’m glad that it’s you.”