Chapter Text
Marinette holds tight to the memory of her parents. Of her mother's warm hugs, of her father's gentle voice. Because she'd never experience them again. If you asked her, she couldn't quite say what she felt. Sadness, of course. But it was deeper than that. It was utter devastation. But being five, she didn't really know how to articulate herself.
She just remembered clinging to her grandmother Gina the entire time. During the funeral for both of her parents, Marinette saw relatives from either side, some for the first time.
Like her grandfather, Roland.
He hadn't said a word to her the entire time but Gina had pointed him out to Marinette before the ceremony began. Afterwards, Marinette was not privy to the conversation, but it was decided that she would live with her grandfather from now on. All of Sabine's family lived in China and Marinette didn't know a word of Mandarin.
Gina would have been more than happy to care for her, but she didn't have a permanent residence in Paris. But Roland did. And although he gruffed about raising a girl on his own being the least traditional way, he eventually agreed to raise her.
Marinette looked up at the steel gates of her new home. Already it felt so different from the bakery she was used to living in. People of all kinds coming in and out to buy her parents' pastries. With this, Marinette began to feel trapped. Gina knelt down to her level.
"I will visit you as much as I can, my little fairy. Be a girl good for your grandpa. But not too good", she winked.
Marinette giggled, although she wasn't sure how to be good but not too good. Gina kissed her forehead and gave Roland her goodbye before heading off into the world. She did so in the hope that maybe she could get far away enough to stop seeing her son's face in everything. Especially in her granddaughter.
Roland brought Marinette inside and she felt like she was in a museum. Everything was old. Then again, her only other frame of reference for old people was her grandmother, who was rather modern. Roland showed her to her room and helped her put her stuff away, all the while sorting through her clothing and discarding the items he didn't approve of.
The first time Marinette protested against him trashing a pair of shorts she liked (they were pink and ruffled) he shot her down.
"You don't need to go prancing around in clothes like these. It's shameful!" With that, he threw the shorts away, as well as several other pairs of pants and overalls and shorts.
Marinette didn't know what 'shameful' meant. But she would come to understand it soon.
Roland didn't know what he was doing. He could admit that. He thought he'd done everything right with his son only to have it fall apart the past few years. And then his son was gone without any resolution. Had he been in the wrong in the end? If he had conceded to some of his views, he would have seen his son before his demise.
His first time meeting his granddaughter wouldn't have been at his son's funeral!
His granddaughter.
Roland watched her, play with some dolls on the floor. Marinette was nothing like Tom. For one thing, she was a girl. That, added to her dark black hair that bordered on blue in some lights reminded Roland more of the woman who had taken his son. It was enough to make him want to look away from Marinette. But he couldn't. With Marinette, he had a second chance.
This time he would do it right. This one wouldn't get away from him. He was thinking this as he was getting some ingredients out for bread. He didn't notice Marinette come up from behind until she spoke up.
"Are you going to bake?", she asked.
Roland looked down at her. He hadn't even looked at flour since the news of his son. This would be the first time Marinette would have seen him making bread. He smiled down at her.
"I am. And if you can sit quietly and listen, I can teach you."
Marinette did as she was told and hung onto every word. If she concentrated, she could pretend it was her father teaching her about bread. When it went into the oven and the scent filled the apartment, Marinette was reminded of home.
Having a young child around brought a new energy to the place that Roland appreciated. It simply felt brighter in his home thanks to Marinette. She still cried sometimes when she thought of her parents, but she was a happy child. She wasn't perfect though, as she found out through her grandfather. The first time it had happened was when they flipped through a photo album from her father's childhood.
"That is him with Cherise, a very nice girl, as I remember. She would have made a nice wife for your father."
Marinette frowned at that. "My mom was a nice wife."
Roland gestured with his hand that Marinette didn't completely understand but knew that it meant he disagreed with her. Marinette was ready to speak up again but her grandfather must've noticed it. His words were sharp and quick.
"Little girls should be seen and not heard!"
Marinette's shoulders slumped. She didn't feel like looking at pictures anymore.
"With your looks you should hope no one sees too much of you. But you're young. There's hope for you yet to see who you take more after."
Marinette slumped even more.
And so life went like this. Roland saw himself as giving Marinette all the love she deserved while slowly bettering her in the process. Marinette, most of the time believed her grandfather loved her, but at times, it was like he resented her. Any decision was met either with disapproval or a backhanded compliment. And it seemed nothing she ever did was good enough.
Coming home with a drawing that her teacher really liked? "Artists don't contribute anything to society."
Getting good grades? "Boys don't like smart girls."
Confessing that she liked a boy? "You're too young for boys." She just couldn't win.
Gina did visit and found herself regretting her decisions more and more. But there wasn't much she could do without disrupting Marinette's life again. Little did anyone know, something more disruptive than a simple move was about to crash into Marinette Dupain's life.