Chapter Text
Marinette slowly opened her eyes, raising her arms above her head and stretching. She yawned, blinking a few times to let her eyes adjust to the sunlight seeping in through her windows. “Good morning, Adrien,” she murmured, looking beside her and expecting to find him there, reading his book peacefully. He always woke up hours before she did and waited for her in bed when he didn’t have to leave the house early—he knew how much she enjoyed snuggling with him in the mornings. However, he wasn’t there, sitting in bed beside her. There were only ruffled sheets and a vacant pillow, one that still smelled of his shampoo. Marinette sighed, wondering how she had forgotten that he wasn’t home.
He hadn’t been home for months.
War was a scary thing. There was a constant fear of danger creeping behind the civilians no matter where they went. Yet, Marinette wasn’t terrified for her own wellbeing. She was fearful that her husband of merely two years was destined to die while fighting for his country. He wasn’t a militant, yet France had been running low on soldiers and began drafting all the elegible young men in the country.
Marinette and Adrien would sit by the radio, holding hands and praying his name wouldn’t be called. Then, one day, it was. She would never forget how the person on the radio spoke, loud and clear, the name ‘Adrien Agreste’. She would never forget the way the color drained from Adrien’s face. She felt her heart sink as well. She knew he would be able to defend himself—he was strong and knew how to throw a punch. But how would he be able to do so when thousands of bullets were firing straight at him, and bombs were dropping from overhead?
“Adrien,” she had said, trying to conceal her tears so she could be strong for him. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, my darling,” he smiled at her earnestly, resting a hand on her shoulder. “I have to do this. It would be a great honor to know that I am helping keep my country safe from German forces.” He leaned in, lips barely brushing against hers. “And you know that I would do anything to ensure that you are safe as well.”
Marinette had kept his words to heart. She knew Adrien would say that; that’s just the kind of man he was. But that didn’t mean she cried late at night, praying to whatever deity that was watching over her to keep her husband safe.
“Don’t leave me,” she’d whisper to herself, hugging his pillow and staring out at the moon. “Please don’t leave me, my love.”
Ever since he’d left, Marinette had been attempting to go on with her life, trying to distract herself from thinking about whatever horrors Adrien was going through. She worked with her mother and father at their bakery. When she wasn’t working, she’d spend time with Alya, her best friend whose fiance, Nino, was also out fighting the war effort. They’d talk, distract each other, and provide support when times got tough.
Marinette rolled out of bed, beginning her morning chores as she buried her longing inside. She brushed her hair, tying the long locks into two braids before getting dressed into her work attire. She prepared herself a quaint breakfast, simply a piece of toast and one scrambled egg. Then, she grabbed her bag and headed out for the day.
Before heading to work, Marinette stopped at the post office. She and Adrien would send letters to each other once a week. She never failed to cherish the letters, as she read them to herself over and over again and telling herself that Adrien was, in fact, okay. She rushed through the crowds, making her way to the counter designated to notes from the army bases.
“Hello, Monsieur Damocles,” Marinette greeted the clerk. “Do you have my letter?”
“Ah, Madame Agreste!” Monsieur Damocles smiled, eyes crinkling from behind his thin-framed glasses, his frail fingers going through the stack of letters that arrived from Adrien’s specific base. He pulled out a specific one, one that had her name written on it. Marinette grinned, finding the sight of Adrien’s handwriting comforting.
“Thank you so much,” she whispered, holding the note close to her heart. She tried extremely hard to not get teary-eyed.
“I understand how you’re feeling, Marinette dear. My grandson enlisted in the navy. He’s a young boy, merely twenty. I pray every night that he returns home safe.”
“He will, Monsieur Damocles, I assure you.”
She bid him goodbye and left the post office, making her way to the bakery to begin her shift. The letter felt like a piece of heaven in her hands, a little figment of her love that was miles and miles away. Once she reached the bakery, she greeted her parents with hugs, then snuck back to the storage room, carefully opening the envelope and finding a letter inside.
10th April 1941
My dearest Marinette,
I miss you, my love. You will not believe how much joy your last letter brought me. Oh, and thank you so much for including that sweet photo of yourself. I keep it in my coat pocket, the one right by my heart. Since I can’t sweep the real you up into my arms, I suppose a photo will have to do. Funny enough, most of my friends here only know you, my wife, as my lucky charm. I figured you’d appreciate the nickname; you were always a lucky little thing.
I believe I know you well enough to assume that you are afraid on my behalf. Don’t be, milady, I’m just fine here. For even as we’re in the trenches or on the battlefield, all I can think about is you. All my pain is alleviated when I picture coming home to you. I yearn to return home and hold you in my arms. That will come soon, I promise.
With all my love,
Adrien.
Marinette wiped a tear from her eye as she reread the letter twice over, holding it close to her heart. His words never failed to make her heart stutter in her chest, even after loving him for as long as she had.
“You’ll be okay,” she reminded herself. “You’ll be okay.”
***
When she returned home that evening, she immediately went to her desk, forgoing changing out of her flour-stained clothing. She pulled out a sheet of paper and a pen, beginning to write a response to Adrien’s letter.
My dashing prince,
I miss you too. This morning, when I woke up, I imagined you were right there beside me, reading your books as you always do. How I wish that could be our reality once more. Also, calling me your lucky charm? How sweet! I wouldn’t stop smiling after reading that. I hope my luck is enough to get you back here in one piece.
It is only in my best interests to worry over you, and I will continue to even when you’re back here, safe and sound. I yearn for your arrival more than you can imagine, sweetheart. I’ve heard frightening stories from the soldiers that come back here, tales of death and wounds and trauma. It makes me sick to my stomach, even if I’m not the one digging through the trenches or shooting guns. I can only imagine how it must be.
Stay safe. I’ll see you soon.
Marinette.