@maribat-get-in Fifth Serversary! Yay! Have a fic for it
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Richard ‘Dick’ Grayson was an optimistic man. When his youngest brother, Damian, had said he was looking forward to traveling to France and perhaps finally choosing a bride, he thought perhaps that he was prepared to marry a girl from a decent family to expand their connections abroad. It wasn't expected of him, and Lord knew why Damian would want to do that, but it was the only thing that made sense.
Then, during dinner, Damian had made several cutting remarks and treated the young princess and her friends as inconveniences that he was being forced to endure. Which made no sense as Damian had been the one to insist that he visit Paris with the family. It was as bewildering as the odd, infrequent visits to the docks the young boy-turned-man had been making for years.
Everything came to a head when Princess Chloé, accompanied by the tailor's son, Adrien, came screeching into the receiving room that the King was entertaining the Waynes in. From the little he could make out, a bakers’ daughter had offended her somehow. He caught something along the lines of ‘defiling’ and ‘betrothed’.
“I had not realised your daughter had been successfully paired,” Bruce said with mild interest that Dick could tell was a guise for his confusion. Perhaps he had caught more of what was said than should have been possible. “When are you planning on announcing? We would have brought a congratulatory gift had we known.”
Dead silence spread, the blond boy looking like he was going to burst out laughing as his friend turned bright red and angry. Adrien was quick to excuse himself, likely a wise move considering the shade of purple the princess was swiftly turning.
“Ah, well, we hadn't quite- that is, we were hoping to enter negotiations…” the king began, trailing off as he darted a look at each of the Waynes in turn. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Were you not visiting to find a bride for your youngest son?”
“Damian had indicated that he was interested in choosing his match whilst here,” Bruce nodded, glancing to Dick in search of answers that the eldest Wayne simply didn't have. “But he has yet to show an interest in-”
Conversation halted again as Damian himself entered the room, Adrien walking behind him with a pretty young woman that had her face turned down towards the floor. Though her clothes were made of the rough hewn fabric all non-nobles seemed to wear, they were clearly made by a skilled and experienced hand. They fit her well and accentuated her figure in a modest but pleasing way.
“Daddy! Make the stupid baker girl leave-” Chloé began, her shrieks reaching new decibels and octaves that made Dick wince. His eyes immediately popped wide open when the woman in question flushed red and began to back out of the room only to be stopped by Damian. His hand had automatically reached for her, trapping her with a gentle but firm grip that halted her entirely.
“You will not speak to my bride in that manner,” he demanded imperiously, eyes flashing darkly as he glared at the princess. If possible, the woman he was holding in place blushed even more fiercely and was clearly trying to bury the urge to hide behind her free hand. But her chin tilted up and there was a steely strength in her eyes when she looked at them all, as if daring them to reject her. “Father, may I introduce Marinette Dupain-Cheng, my bride to be. Marinette, this is my father, Bruce Wayne.”
“We've been in Paris for all of twelve hours, Dames, what on earth is going on?” Dick managed to say, standing up to come and greet her himself. “Sorry, miss, it's not that you're not lovely, it's just…”
“Ridiculous! It's utterly ridiculous, and I want her punished, daddy!” Chloé screeched again, and Dick wished she would calm down.
“Silence your tongue, princess,” Damian snapped, teeth clicking together as he all but snarled at her. Marinette's hand settled on his arm and he relented slightly. “Father, perhaps we may retire for the meantime and speak more privately upon this matter.”
“That will probably be for the best,” Bruce said, turning back to the king apologetically. “We will have to discuss the trade deals once we are more settled, your majesty. Thank you for your gracious welcome and hospitality, we shall meet with you at lunch.”
While the king spluttered and tried to save face at being so thoroughly dismissed, all of the Waynes rose and made their way to the doorway. Adrien seemed a little disconcerted when they passed but settled when Marinette gave him a bright smile as she exited. It was warm and full of excitement, and Dick felt himself softening towards her rather than being alarmed at Damian’s sudden declaration.
Eventually, they ended up in Bruce's chambers as they were the largest and most likely to accommodate them all. The sitting room attached to his bedroom was just large enough to host them all, plus Marinette who was slowly becoming less red in the face. It probably helped that Damian was sitting closely to her, a protective arm around her waist while his other hand held one of her own loosely in her lap.
“So, this seems like a strange time for you to get into practical jokes,” Jason drawled, his eyebrow raised. Dick couldn’t help but notice that Damian looked ready to battle to the death as he snarled back at Jason, but Bruce cleared his throat pointedly before turning to Marinette.
“I apologise for my son’s behaviour,” he said in his usual ‘I’m around someone I don’t know’ voice, a charming smile on his face. “Jason, please try not to antagonise your brother when he wants to introduce someone to us, it only makes it take longer.”
“No, it’s fine,” she squeaked back, glancing at Damian before speaking further. “It’s nice to meet you all at last, Rob- Lord Damian has told me so much about you that I feel I already know you all.”
“Tt, I told you to dispense with the formalities, Coccinelle,” Damian said quietly, his grip on her hand tightening momentarily. “Father, Marinette is the daughter of two bakers here in Paris, and I have been intending to ask for her hand since we were fourteen. I would appreciate your public blessing on the matter.”
“Damian, we don’t really know your friend,” Bruce said, his airy manner slipping as he frowned. “As crude as what Jason said was, it’s difficult to see this as anything other than a ruse.”
“That is-”
“Mon amour, it’s alright,” Marinette said quietly, shrinking in on herself and removing the arm from around her waist. Her back straightened after only a moment, lip caught between her teeth. “I understand that this is likely a shock for you. When Damian and I met, I was unaware that he was a Lord’s son but we have been in contact since his previous visit to Paris four years ago. We have been exchanging letters since then and- and if you would like more time before accepting our betrothal I would understand.”
“No,” Damian said vehemently, glaring around at the others. “I told you that I was coming to Paris for my future wife and I will not allow you to deny it.”
“You’ve been exchanging letters?” Dick asked, perking up slightly as he looked between the pair before focusing on Marinette. “And your parents are okay with this?”
“I have yet to tell them,” she admitted, glancing at Damian again and blushing. “We had only just met again in person when her highness interrupted so we haven’t had the chance to speak with them. But they only want for me to be happy, so I don’t think that they will object.”
“...you proposed after meeting her for the second time in person,” Tim said, sounding both amused and disgusted. And, for the first time that Dick could remember, Damian flushed. His cheeks reddened and he scowled, a hand likely reaching for a hidden weapon somewhere in his jacket sleeve.
“In my defence, the princess was declaring me her fiancé and I did not wish to be misconstrued,” he muttered after a moment or two. “I was hoping to speak with the Dupain-Chengs privately before any of this occurred, but my intentions would have been the same regardless. Do you have any real objections to our betrothal?”
“Your mother is unlikely to agree to such a pairing,” Bruce said, one eyebrow raised. Dick winced, knowing that that conversation wasn’t going to be pretty and fully expecting Damian to insist that Marinette not be present for it. But apparently today was a day for surprises because Marinette only tilted her head and frowned.
“I thought your mother was no longer involved in your life?” she asked quietly, no recriminations or sorrow in her voice at potentially having been lied to, only curiosity. “Because if that has changed I would like to speak with her about how to appropriately show affection to a child-”
“I am still estranged from her,” Damian assured her, his hand sneaking back into her lap and taking hold of one of hers. “I would not have allowed such an oversight as to reconnect with Mother and not inform you. Father is merely concerned because of her, ah, lineage.”
“Jeez, just tell her you’re a prince already,” Jason jeered, swiftly ducking as Damian freed the knife in his sleeve and threw it at him. “Hey, knock it off! I don’t want to bleed on this outfit.”
“I thought you were only nobles?” Marinette said cautiously, her hands twisting in her lap. Damian looked like he would rather be discussing anything else but both Tim and Jason seemed to be enjoying watching him squirm.
“The rest of my father’s children are commoners that were brought into the nobility,” he said grudgingly, smirking at Tim’s affronted noise. “But I hail from royalty on my mother’s side, though it is not a particularly happy connection, as I have explained to you previously.”
“Huh. Well, I suppose it makes more sense as to how they were able to get away with neglecting your mental wellbeing,” she mused, nose wrinkling as she clearly thought back to conversations she and Damian had had previously. “I suppose it would be treasonous to speak my thoughts with them. Hm. Never mind, my parents will adore you and do their best to make up for what you missed.”
“I look forward to greeting them and making them aware of our upcoming nuptials,” he agreed, interlacing their fingers and smiling ever so slightly when she beamed at him. Bruce cleared his throat again, looking very lost as he clearly had no idea how to process this news, nor how to direct the conversation in a way that would mean Damian put things on hold.
“I’m sorry, My Lord,” she squeaked, turning back to Bruce with heat in her cheeks again. Dick decided that turning to the one person in the room that could read people better than Bruce himself was in order, catching Cass’s eye. The young woman was smiling faintly as she watched the pair of teenagers, her eyes lingering on the way Damian kept contact with Marinette even when allowing her to put some space between them. “Um, as I said, I understand if you would like us to wait-”
“I think it would be wise if you at least spoke to your parents before entering an engagement,” Bruce said carefully, only for Marinette to smile more brightly and nod.
“My parents have long been aware of my feelings for my birdie- er,I mean Damian,” she corrected quickly. “And they were anticipating my approaching him in America had he not come to visit first. I planned to travel, you see, to experience different clothes-making techniques from other countries,” she explained.
“You told your parents you were planning on courting a man who lives an ocean away?” Dick asked, newly astonished. “And they were happy for you to do that? Forgive me for saying, but that seems rather…foolhardy.”
“As I mentioned, they only wish for my happiness. Robin and I have been conversing for many years, and they know how much I look forward to his letters. Though they have never pried into the contents, they are aware that I am hopelessly enamoured,” she declared, looking back at Damian with fierce eyes. “They have long wanted to meet you, birdie, so I hope you are prepared to be smothered with affection and croissants.”
“Only for you, coccinelle,” he said in a low voice, and Dick could no longer contain himself or his excitement.
“Welcome to the family, Marinette! May I call you Marinette? Or do you prefer Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng?” he asked, getting up to move towards the pair.
“Marinette is fine, it is hardly as though I come from a wealthy station,” she giggled, accepting his outstretched hand and shaking it with more strength than he would have assumed. Damian made a disgruntled noise and she turned back to him, almost cooing. “Mon amour, you know it’s the truth. And we both would rather I spoke the truth, non?”
“Yeah, Damian, if she’s going to be marrying into the family she needs to be able to be open with us, right?” Jason said, immediately jumping on the opportunity to needle their youngest brother. His greeting to Marinette was more typically European, gracing her cheek with une bise before inclining his head. “Besides, like you said it’s not like she’s the only one Bruce would’ve dragged up off of the streets. I was a street urchin before being adopted into the Wayne family, so we might end up having plenty in common.”
Damian looked like he might complain, or snarl at them all as they got up in turn to introduce themselves properly, but was evidently tempered by the fact that Marinette looked pleased to be accepted by the family. Especially when Cass came forward and fully embraced the young French woman, her arms wrapped tightly around her as she said something softly into her ear.
And Dick was an optimistic man. He had a good feeling that Damian’s blushing bride-to-be was going to help round out their not-so-little family.
