"A simple man is fine with simple things, and therefore, his simple life. To most, they see him as someone who doesn't wish to strive for more... but in truth, he is merely satisfied with simplicity."
— Forbidden Fruits
CHAPTER NINE
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The town of Deadwood was bustling with business—a bit more than what the people were used to on an average day—after the Mayor of Pikeingham's three sons came to visit, and after the celebration of medaling the young aspiring law enforcers. The night before had been a celebration of knocking their glasses together as they chorused with whiskey.
Content and very hungover, the following morning was surely dreaded by Marinette's brothers. But nonetheless, they had promised her the following day, and Cody was especially determined to keep his word.
"Marinette?" His knuckles thudded against her wooden door, a yawn escaping past his lips. He ran a hand over his face, the exhaustion clear in his features. He was still wearing his boxers too, shirtless and without a proper pair of pants in the middle of the hallway with decor of portraits.
He leaned his forehead against her door, knocking again when his first went unanswered. "Are you up yet? Surely you haven't forgotten 'bout our plans for t'day?"
The floorboards creaked to his right as Jasper appeared to be dragging his feet. The elder brother had dark circles underneath his eyes and his hair was so wild and tangled it looked like a rat's nest.
Cody tilted his head, keeping his forehead against his sister's bedroom door, and grinned, "Well, well, well, you look like shit."
"I feel like shit." Jasper groaned out. "How much did I even drink last night?"
"Too much if you expected me to be keepin' count for you." Cody chuckled, "It seems we all had a bit too much to drink last night, except for our dear brother, Elias."
"Ain't that the truth."
Cody offered his brother a tired smile. "Is Jesse up yet?"
"Oh he's up... up and'a movin', actin' as if he didn't even drink once."
Cody chuckled at that, allowing his eyes to flutter close for a brief moment.
"Perhaps you should put on some pants before Marinette opens the door." Jasper suggested.
The youngest brother out of them all glanced down at himself. In nothing but his tighty-whites, it was rather presumptuous of him to be standing right in front of his sister's bedroom door.
He let out a bellowed laugh. "Indeed. It seems I'm not even in my right mind at the moment. Perhaps Marinette would consider reschedulin' our plans—"
"Definitely not." Jasper folded his arms across his chest. "We promised her."
"Alright, alright. It was just a suggestion." Cody raised his placating hands. Still, his forehead remained pressed against Marinette's door. It seemed he neither wanted to knock again nor head back to his room to put on a pair of pants.
Thankfully, Elias emerged from his bedroom, a pair of denim in hand. "Put on some pants, dimwit. No one wants to see your balls."
He tossed it in Cody's direction, who caught it with one hand.
Jasper stepped forward. He gently tapped his knuckles against Marinette's bedroom door. "Oy sleepyhead, it's time to get up. You wouldn't wanna miss t'day's festivities, would you?"
"Ugh, I forgot." Elias groaned in realization. "We promised her the day."
Jasper shot his brother an unamused look. "Indeed we did. So suck it up."
Elias simply folded his arms across his chest. Cody had backed away from the door, hopping on one foot as he struggled to get his other foot through the pant leg. Jasper kept his eyes focused on Marinette's door.
When all that ensued on the other end was silence, he raised his fist and knocked again. "Marinette?"
Again, no answer.
"Don't you find it a bit strange that she hasn't woken yet?" Jasper tilted his head, pressing his ear up against her door. There was no sound on the other end; no movement to imply she was awake. He tried twisting the knob, only to find that it was locked.
"I thought it a bit odd." Cody said, "She is known to be an early riser, and for a day she's lookin' forward to, even more so."
"Stand aside." Elias shoved his brothers to the side. Jasper hardly budged but moved upon his brother's demand with a tight frown on his lips. Cody, however, almost toppled over, having yet to get his jeans past his ankles. "If she won't open the door, I'll do it for her."
"You can't just—" But Jasper's words fell onto dead ears. Elias stepped away from the door, only to ram his shoulder into the wooden mass. It only took one try for the door to fall completely off of its rusted hinges. He reached out for it before it could fall inward and hit the wooden floorboards.
"Unbelievable." Jasper raised his hands in feigned disbelief.
His brothers paid him no mind. As Cody finally succeeded in pulling his jeans up to his hips, Elias had moved the door to the side, allowing them access into their sister's bedroom. When they stepped inside, what they found was not what they had expected. Marinette's room was as neat as it always was, everything in its rightful place and nothing out of order—that, of course, was not unusual—but their sister herself was nowhere to be seen. Even her bed was still made.
"She's not here?" Jasper eyes surveyed the room, confused.
"She didn't go off to the oasis without us, did she?" Cody looked around the room himself, frowning at just how empty it was.
"She wouldn't." Jasper shook his head. "Not by herself. Pa wouldn't allow it."
"And if she snuck out? You know Marinette has done it many times before."
"Why would she sneak out to the oasis if we all made plans to go there?"
Behind them, Elias cleared his throat. The two brothers turned around. Elias stood underneath the threshold, his expression dark.
When he said nothing, his brothers questioned him in unison. "What is it?"
"There's somethin' you should see." He simply said. He then disappeared from the doorway, his footsteps quickly receding.
"Why does he have to be so damn vague?" Cody grumbled out more to himself than anything. Nonetheless, the youngest brother moved to follow Elias first and Jasper quickly followed after him. The brothers turned the corner and hobbled down the staircase, quickly finding Elias standing at the entrance of the Manor.
The front door was still closed, but Elias's focus wasn't on that. He was staring down at the polished floor—or what was usually always polished. In front of the door, the flooring was stained with dirt, and amongst the dried mud, footsteps could be made seen.
"She never even made it past the first step." Elias's voice was empty, and each word he spoke seemed bitter as it left his lips.
"What do you mean by that?" Cody asked, his voice suddenly laced with worry. "Aren't those our boot stains from last night?"
Jasper remained eerily silent and could do nothing but stare at the floor. No, these were not the brothers' footsteps. They'd arrived through the back door, because it was always left unlocked when the men of the Dupain-Cheng Manor went out for a drink. It was left that way as a courtesy to their sister, lest their drunken clumsiness wake her from her slumber as they bolted to and from the outhouse while they rode out the highs of their nausea in the kitchen before sauntering upstairs to bed.
But this time around, what courtesy had their boyish actions granted her?
They'd been stupid, and because of that, they'd been careless; foolish.
The floor was littered with several different boot marks, but it was easy to make out a distinct pair of shoes amongst the rest. Her shoes.
"She's been taken..." Jasper breathed out shakily as the realization of the situation finally dawned on him. His eyes hardened as they met Elias's gaze, and the two brothers shared an equalized hated look—a look that was meant for only one loathed man in all of Deadwood.
"Chat Noir took her."
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As the sun rose to its highest peak, the desert wastelands scorched like the surface of the sun itself. Because of this, the men had slowed their horses into a simple trot, because running at full speed in the heat would surely have their steeds collapsing one after the other.
Chat Noir raised his canteen to his lips. At the speed they were currently going, to say he was a bit dissatisfied would be an understatement. He had wanted to reach his camp by nightfall, but it seemed one day's time had turned into three when they weren't galloping through the plains. The water from his canteen soothed his dry, scratchy throat, quenching his thirst, but he had to remind himself to drink rationally.
The last thing he needed was to run out of provisions in the middle of the desert.
The sun did not help in making their venture any easier. With its rays beating down upon them, it brought exhaustion upon both his men and their horses. It didn't help that the mountain ranges looked farther and farther away the closer they neared them. To make matters even worse, the wasteland he had once effortlessly galloped through on his way to Deadwood seemed more barren throughout his journey back home.
There was no wandering livestock. No wild boar or buffalo to hunt. Not even a pack of mangey coyotes.
There was nothing.
The game that they had scored previously had been their last meal... and that had been almost twenty-four hours ago. They were all in need of another proper meal, but with nothing to hunt, how could he provide that for them?
With a grunt, Chat Noir wiped his damp lips on his shoulder. His canteen fell at his side once more, hung at his waist as it tapped his leg every now and then, its remaining contents sloshing back and forth. He decided at that moment to spare a brief glance over his shoulder, where he found Marinette entirely bent over her horse. She was hiding her face in the mare's mane, trying to find some sort of escape from the sun.
He sighed. Surely the sun was burning into her back, as well as her scalp. Without another thought, he removed his hat from his head and clicked his tongue three times. The mare, understanding his command, picked up a bit of speed to fall into step beside his own stallion. Now with Marinette at his side, he leaned over to gently nudge her shoulder.
Marinette lifted her head from the mare's mane, her eyes barely finding his. Underneath her disheveled bangs, he could see her sunken eyes and pale cheeks, indicating her exhaustion. His expression remained entirely nonchalant as he wordlessly extended his hat out to her.
Her eyes briefly glanced at the hat in his hand before they were back on his. Stubbornly, she shook her head. "I don't need it."
His eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly, and he insisted, "Take it."
For a moment, the silence between them stretched on as their eyes silently battled one another. Chat Noir knew many things about Marinette, but he hadn't known that she was this stubborn. Sure, he had known stubbornness ran through her veins, but he definitely hadn't expected her to put that stubbornness above her overall health. Nonetheless, he watched with victory swirling in his irises as she finally gave in and took the hat from his outstretched hand.
His old, black, worn-out ringo hat was a bit big on her head, but when Marinette put it on and peered up at him from underneath the visor, Chat Noir felt his heart do a summersault in his chest. Marinette was a gorgeous woman but seeing her wearing something of his made her all the more beautiful. In fact, he found that he rather liked his hat on top of her head.
But what was he thinking? He quickly glanced away before she could catch the growing smile on his lips or the faint blush on his cheeks. He wasn't allowed to have such thoughts when they concerned her! He needed to keep himself in check, lest he get distracted.
Marinette seemingly wasn't finished with him—and it wasn't a gesture of thanks that left her lips for allowing her to use his hat either. "Do you have any water left?"
That hadn't been the first time she'd asked him for a drink. Willingly, he had offered her his own rations, knowing that her being dehydrated would not be a beneficial fate. Chat Noir leaned forward to retrieve his canteen. When he gently shook it, it was much to his dismay to discover that there was barely any left. A frustrated huff left his nostrils. Despite the fact that traveling for hours had done them good in the sense that they were farther from the notorious Reaper, it was not fortunate in granting them the chance to properly rest, find food, or even find water.
Even despite this, Chat Noir extended out his canteen. He didn't meet her eyes as he did so, but he was sure her expression was uncertain.
He stood corrected when she hesitated, and even voiced her hesitation. "There isn't much left... should I spare you some?" Her voice was scratchy as she asked him that, and it left his heart even aching further. In truth, he was surprised she had even offered. Generosity towards him wasn't exactly common.
"Drink as much as you need." The infamous bandit answered simply.
Even if that means all of it... was left unsaid.
There was a pause of silence in which she must've considered going against his words, because perhaps, maybe a small part of her had some sort of care in her heart for him. Of course, he could only speculate. Despite being in his care for a little over forty-eight hours, Marinette hadn't warmed up to him in the slightest. She still made it blatantly obvious that she loathed him, whether it be in the form of spiteful words or her stubborn actions to defy anything he said or suggested.
But he knew she wasn't heartless, and he knew her heart wasn't entirely iced over when it concerned him. A heartless person wouldn't be concerned about whether there was any left for him or not. They would simply consume it all.
"Are you certain—?" she went on to ask.
He stopped her short with a brief glance, his eyes hard. "Do not be concerned 'bout me. Just drink."
Although he found her concern to be somewhat enduring, he wondered if she even realized just how caring she was being. Sometimes, she would catch herself and revert back to her witty, snappy self towards him, offering him bitterness whenever he spared her a glance.
But right now, as he stared into her eyes, he didn't see bitterness at all. He saw genuine concern for his well-being...
...and that threw him a bit off guard.
He forced himself to look away once more. It was then that he finally heard
Marinette unfasten the lid to his canteen. He chose to keep his eyes forward as she drank and prayed to the gods above that they would reach a source of water soon.
After that, the mare remained beside Plagg as they rode side-by-side.
Hours passed as their journey continued. Chat Noir's canteen now hung empty from his waist. The sun now shone bright right above them. Without any water to quench his thirst or a hat to shield him from the sun, Chat Noir's eyes began to grow heavy against his will.
Out in the distance, his sights began to grow blurry. Even his eyes began to play tricks on him, showing him images that he knew weren't real.
Like his mother and father, riding towards him atop their pair of long-lost steeds.
In what sounded like an echo in the back of his mind, he heard Marinette ask him if he was all right, but he couldn't find it in himself to answer. She must've noticed that something was wrong for her to be concerned enough to ask, and he'd been trying tremendously to pretend as if everything was fine.
But it seemed she wasn't the only one who wasn't fooled. To his left, a horse slowed from ahead to match Plagg's trot. His sister was atop that horse, eyeing him with concern. "Are you all right, Chat Noir?"
He nodded, hoping his expression was deemed believable enough.
It seemed it wasn't. His sister's eyes narrowed, and then before he could even blink an eye, she was extending her canteen out to him. "Why don't'cha have a sip of my—"
"Absolutely not." He insisted with a quick shake of his head. The action made him a bit dizzy. "You'll be needin' that for yourself. I'll be fine."
"Save the chivalry." His sister snapped back. "Just take a sip. It won't hurt."
He shot her a warning glare. He accepted a lot that came out of her mouth, but he wouldn't accept the disrespect in front of Marinette.
"I'll be fine."
Kit looked at him disapprovingly. He knew, of course, that her actions were simply that of a worried sister, but he couldn't afford to accept such disrespect, even if she was his blood. The last thing he needed was for Marinette to think that she could do the same.
And not only that, but he wouldn't consume his sister's already scarce rations. He cared more about her health than he did his own.
"How much farther until we reach Losthollow?" He asked instead, hoping the question would divert his sister's concern.
Losthollow was a remote town that marked the halfway point between Deadwood and his home tucked safely away in the highland mountain ranges. He was certain once they reached there, they would be able to resupply and get the well-deserved rest that they all desperately needed.
"About four hours' time." His sister answered a bit hesitantly.
He considered her answer by glancing up into the sky. Considering the sun's position, they would arrive at Losthollow sometime that evening.
"Good. Then we should arrive by sundown. We can replenish our supplies there, and then perhaps I might consider the inn as a place of rest."
Who was he kidding? He had already considered it, and he definitely wanted a pillow underneath his head tonight if he was going to catch up on some well-needed rest.
"Are you sure you can make it 'till then?" His sister questioned unsurely.
He quickly waved off her valid concern. "Of course I can. I can do anythin'."
Kit didn't seem to believe him at all. She stared at him for some time with narrowed eyes, skepticism swirling around in her irises, and in return, he kept his eyes ahead, trying to keep his expression neutral despite just how sickly he was beginning to feel. He could hold out a little longer though, he was certain of that. His sister lingered around for a bit longer, though. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught her stare averting to Marinette—or perhaps to his hat which was on her head. Nonetheless, Kit said nothing more and rode ahead to join Nino at the front of the line.
Once she was gone, he let out a sigh he hadn't even realized he'd been keeping in. Marinette remained silent beside him, and if she had a thought she wished to voice, she chose not to do so.
They rode on in silence after that, and Chat Noir was grateful that Marinette refrained from asking him any more questions. For most of the ride, his eyes would flutter close due to his immense trust in Plagg to guide them in the right direction without his assistance.
Eventually, after four agonizing hours, the town of Losthollow finally came into view amongst the sandy plains, hidden behind a canyon wall. The sun had also begun to set, casting an array of pinks and oranges above the distant mountain ranges.
Nino circled back around from the front of the line on his horse. He pulled up Wayzz beside Plagg, and his horse whinnied at his friend. "What should our next course of action be?"
"Ride ahead to the inn." Chat Noir instructed firstly, "Tell them we require as many available rooms as they have. If they try to deny your request, tell them we'll pay double."
Nino's eyes widened slightly at that in surprise, but he made no attempt to protest. Instead, he nodded, his gaze hard and determined.
"After you've done that, tell the inn master we require food and water for resupply. Have him guide you to the stable to room our horses as well."
Nino nodded again. Chat Noir then dismissed him with a curt nod. With that, Nino whipped his reigns and rode off, signaling his units to follow him with a wide wave over his head.
Chat Noir nudged Plagg's side with his heels. His horse stepped forward, and with that, the mare Marinette rode on willingly followed after. The rest of his men continued with him, maintaining the pace he had set.
It took them longer to reach the inn than Nino and his men, but when they arrived, Nino had already dismounted his steed and was guiding Wayzz by his lead. The other men who had gone with them were unloading their remaining supplies from their saddle bags.
Nino greeted him halfway with a content smile on his lips. "I have good news and bad. Which do you care to hear first?"
"Spare me the bad for now. I've had enough unfortunate circumstances along this ride to last me a lifetime." Chat Noir chuckled from atop Plagg.
Nino chuckled as well. "Well, the good is that there is plenty of room in the stables for our horses. Plenty of food and water is also being provided as we speak."
"Good. And the bad?"
"The bad is that there are only ten rooms available for the purchase of rent, each with a single bed... and we've got 'bout forty-five men."
Chat Noir pursed his lips in thought. A bit of a hiccup perhaps in the form of comfortability, but he could work with such. "Have the men split four to a room. My own will be the only room one short."
Nino nodded in understanding. Chat Noir's eyes hardened slightly.
"Inform Kit of these sleepin' arrangements and be very clear that the arrangements are not negotiable."
Nino mirrored Chat Noir's expression. With a nod, he turned and guided his horse to follow him.
Chat Noir slowly lifted one leg over his saddle, taking his time to dismount lest he lose his balance from the immense dizziness he was feeling. He took Plagg by his reigns and guided his horse to follow him. Marinette remained atop her mare (as she wouldn't dare try to make a run for it in such a public, yet remote place), but she remained oddly silent for a woman whose tendency was to always have something to say.
He led his horses to the stables which were only a short way away from the front desk of the inn. The inn master had pointed him in such direction, wearily so. Everyone spared him weary glances as he passed, but, of course, no one would even dare fetch a sheriff for his arrest. The inn master had been paid double in gold coin, after all.
Partly for his cooperation and for the townspeople's silence.
As Chat Noir reached the stables, he joined his men in settling in their horses. He helped Marinette dismount the mare (who looked anything but thrilled to be needing his assistance), but everyone was tired, and it seemed even she was too exhausted to protest upon the matter. He kept her wrists bound as he placed the mare and Plagg in their own separate stables. He watched with a fond smile as his black stallion gorged on the provided hay.
Taking hold of the rope that kept Marinette's wrists bound, he guided her to follow him. Marinette silently followed without protest. As they entered the main square of the inn once more, Chat Noir reached over to lower the visor of his hat which still sat atop her head. In doing so, it covered her eyes and her raven locks and left her looking like a mysterious figure without a name.
"You must keep your identity hidden." He explained before she could even question his actions. "There are many outlaws who come to take rest in the town of Losthollow. We best not let them know you are here."
Marinette's only response to that was a tired nod.
They moved across the inn square in silence. Many men bustled past them without a second glance. Many of them he recognized, while many he did not. Chat Noir kept Marinette extremely close, aware that many eyes were on her even if he didn't know which. Instead, he remained entirely unperturbed as he reached the room that was meant for him. He stuck the key into the lock, and with a firm twist, the door came open.
He pushed the squeaky door inward on its hinges. The room was dark, and so, he reached into his pocket to pull out his box of matches. As the room door shut them in from behind, a flame took hold of the tip of his match. It illuminated the room, and off to the side a small table had been set, a lantern atop it, but he found his eyes to be rooted in the center of the room.
Chat Noir had looked over Nino's words earlier, but he definitely should've paid them more heed.
Because there was only one bed.
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Ahahahaha... if there's one thing I love just as much as an enemies to lovers trope, it's the one-bed trope.
Anywho, I'm currently on a road trip to Texas to visit family. I will try to keep my updating schedule as planned, but I can't guarantee anything.
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