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Ladybug puts a hand on her sword, eyeing the forest around her warily. It’s… unusually silent. She’s been trekking through these woods for three days now and although she still knows very little about them, she does know that forests have melodies; birdsong and leaves rustling and the echoed sounds of animals all around them. For it to be this quiet… something’s off.
“... but I said that was crazy, because it obviously was. Who would put something that big and gold and shiny in the middle of the town square if they didn’t want it stolen, am I right? We both know I’m right. Well, he didn’t like that very much, so he said…”
Well, silent but for her traveling companion. She isn’t sure the bandit knows the definition of shutting up, let alone how to do it. She sighs, turning away from the chattering thief and back to the trees around them. She’d gotten proficient at blocking out his incessant rambling four days into their journey together. Four days too late, if you asked her.
“... so he sai- what was that?”
The urgency in his voice startles her back into listening. Ladybug stops in her tracks, squinting around the woods. “Did you see something?” she whispers.
Chat Noir opens his mouth, but is interrupted by the crashing noise of a band of goblins jumping out of the bushes.
“Again?” Marinette bangs her head on the table in frustration. “Seriously, Alix? That’s the third time this session! Ladybug hasn’t had a chance to take a long rest yet! How is she supposed to fight off another band of goblins and not die?”
The DM just cackles. “Roll for initiative!” she says gleefully, rubbing her hands together.
“Don’t worry,” Adrien says, smiling across the table at her as he rolls his dice. “I’ll help protect you! I still have most of my HP after you took the brunt of the damage last time.”
“But that’s my job,” Marinette groused, begrudgingly rolling her own dice. “I’m the fighter, you’re the rogue. I beat the bad guys, you steal from them. Teamwork. Thirteen,” she adds, turning to Alix.
“Nine,” Adrien says. Alix nods, writing something down behind her wall constructed of DMing books. “And besides,” Adrien says, bringing Marinette’s attention back to him, “if I remember correctly, you were the one who pulled off the heist back in town. Isn’t that my job?”
Marinette grumbles, but Alix cuts her off before she has a chance to argue her case. “Alright. There are four goblins and two of you. Both of you lost the wisdom check, so you don’t get a turn until the next round of fighting.”
“Aw, dangit,” Adrien says, face falling.
Ladybug curses, yanking her sword out of its sheath, but the goblins are on them faster than she can defend herself. Her side twinges with pain at the quick movement, a harsh reminder that she’s still injured from the last fight. Three goblins pounce her at once, a flurry of sticks and knives and bony elbows. She gasps in pain as one of their blades finds a chink in her armor, cutting deep into her shoulder.
“Ladybug!” Chat yells, and a knife hits one of the goblins in the back. It makes a strange gargled sound as it keels over. Ladybug, taking advantage of the open spot, yanks herself away from the other two, slashing wildly as she moves. She hears a grunt of pain but no thud, meaning the goblin is still alive.
“Watch out!” Chat calls again, and she whips around, seeing a knife aimed straight for her chest-
“No, Adrien, for the last time. Chat Noir can’t jump in front of Ladybug and take the hit. It’s. Not. Your Turn.”
Adrien pouts, slouching back in his chair, and Marinette sends him a sympathetic smile. “Thanks anyways.”
Alix rolls her eyes before ducking back behind her books. “What’s your armor class again?”
-but luckily for her, it bounces off her chainmail armor. She darts forward, stabbing the goblin. Before she can get to the other one, an arrow pierces its chest and it keels over.
When another attacker doesn’t immediately spring in front of her, Ladybug looks up, eyes darting around wildly. Next to her, Chat Noir is lowering his bow, breathing heavily. “You okay?” he says.
Four goblins, all dead on the ground. Ladybug sighs, sheathing her sword. “Yeah. I’m fine.”
“We take a long rest.”
Adrien and Marinette look at each other, their echoed words hanging in the air between them, before bursting into laughter.
“Right here?” Alix says wryly. “On top of a bunch of dead goblins?”
“Uh- no. We walk up the path and take a long rest over there,” Marinette says, scribbling a note on her paper.
“But first we search the goblins,” Adrien butts in.
Marinette points at him with her pencil, eyes still studying her character sheet. “What he said.”
The goblins are just as smelly and gross as the last three groups. Ladybug holds her nose with one hand as she carefully roots through the dead goblin’s pockets.
“Whatcha got?” Chat says, popping up next to her.
She takes a step back, dumping her bounty on the ground. “Fifteen gold pieces, a couple of shiny rocks, and a beat up knife. You?”
“Some rope, a dozen more gold pieces and this bag with what I think was food, in a past life.” Chat drops the stinky bag on the ground, poking at it with the tip of his boot. “Or maybe a dead thing. Either one.”
Ladybug makes a face. “We’re leaving that.”
“Agreed.”
After splitting the coins between the two of them (she offered Chat the knife but he declined), they made their way a little further up the path. Chat sets up a campfire and Ladybug hits the ground with a grunt, numerous wounds screaming in protest.
“Do you still have that emergency kit?” she grits out through clenched teeth.
Chat looks up, eyes widening. “You said you were fine!”
“I… wasn’t bleeding out?”
“Ladybug!” Chat gives her a dirty look, but digs through his pack anyways. “Here,” he grumbles, pulling out the kit and dropping his pack on the ground. “Let me.”
Ladybug peels off her armor, wincing as it comes away with blood-red splotches up and down the side. Chat watches it go disapprovingly, as if it had somehow failed him by not protecting her well enough.
He shakes his head with a sigh. “You really have to stop taking on more than you can handle in fights,” he says as he pulls out a roll of bandages. “You know I can protect myself.”
Ladybug shrugs, then hisses as it jars her injured shoulder. Chat shoots her a ‘stay still’ look, wetting a rag with water from his canteen. She grits her teeth, not looking forward to the inevitable sting that came from wounds being cleaned. “Yeah, I know,” she mutters, looking away.
“Then why do you keep- ack, this is gonna hurt-” he interrupts himself as he sees the cut up close for the first time. She winces as he delicately pats at her torn skin. “Why do you keep doing it?” he finishes.
She goes to shrug, remembers her shoulder, and makes a noncommittal noise instead.
Chat huffs, hand pausing. “Come on. There’s got to be a reason. If you know I can handle myself in a fight, then why do you always insist on taking on the brunt of it?”
“I- I just-” Now it’s Ladybug’s turn to huff, turning away from him. “I don’t know.”
“Ladybug.”
When she goes back to look at him, his face is an inch from hers. Her breath catches in her throat. His green eyes pierce into her own and her excuses die on her tongue. She can feel his warm breath on her face.
“I don’t know,” she finally says, and this time the words aren’t just a way to get out of the conversation. She really doesn’t.
And from the look on his face, he can tell.
He pulls away, going back to her side with a strange cross between a confused look and a smile, and the air rushes back into her lungs.
What was that?
“Yeah, guys, what was that?” Alix says, smirking at them over her books. Marinette’s cheeks feel warm and Adrien’s are definitely a shade pinker than they were a moment ago.
“I don’t know,” they say together, both blushing furiously when the words come out at the same time.
Alix snorts. “Ok. Yeah. Sure.”
She goes to say something else, something about their rest and the next morning, but Marinette isn’t listening. She’s distracted by Adrien’s soft smile, and the way his cheeks are still pink, and the way his eyes linger on hers just a second longer than they need to.
The two of them don’t talk much after that. Chat finishes bandaging her up, that stupidly sweet confused smile on his face the rest of the night. For some reason her cheeks feel unbearably warm every time he catches her eye over dinner. And if anyone asks if images of his eyes, his smile, the way his voice sounds when he said her name follow her into her dreams, well, she doesn’t have to answer them anyways.
(The answer is yes.)