Song Of Hope: Well, I've made a version of this story in 4 different fandoms and dammit, I'm doing it here too! This will, however, be INCREDIBLY different from any other version that I've written, for a number of reasons. I'm gonna keep some contents of this incredibly secret until they become relevant, but for now, enjoy this story!

Note, I know nothing about early century baking and surnames, but this is also taking place in a magical fantasy world and this is fanfiction, so meh. R&R

The sun was just beginning to rise over a small, rustic French village, people coming out of their homes, getting ready for the day. One of those homes was of the Dupain family, consisting of Marinette Dupain-Cheng and Tom Dupain, opening up their bakery early in the morning with their fresh baked loafs of bread. Out of there came a girl with hair so black it looked blue, bluebell eyes, and wearing a beautiful smile and a pink dress with hand embroidered black and white flowers around them hem, with a white apron covered in black and pink embroidered flowers over it to complete the ensemble. She herself had a tray of bread and a coin cup that she was walking through the early morning with, selling to the early risers of the town who were getting up to come and get their food so they could start the day.

"Thank you Mrs. Bustier," said the girl with the tray with a smile as she handed the woman a loaf of bread. "Take care of yourself."

"I will Marinette," she replied with a smile. "Try not to trip this morning."

"I won't trip," she said as she started to walk and proceeded to trip over a rather large rock. Her tray flew up in the air, along with all her coins and bread. Thankfully, the coins landed on the ground, the bread went straight into a nearby fountain, which made Mrs. Bustier sigh.

"I warned you Marinette." Marinette groaned and got on her knees, starting to pick up the coins. Mrs. Bustier handed Marinette her coin cup. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Well if it isn't the so called Ladybug," said a bratty voice. Marinette groaned and looked up to see Chloé Bourgeois, a bratty blonde with blue eyes in an expensive dress, with her personal redheaded servant Sabrina Raincomprix, wearing her glasses that magnified green eyes. Sabrina was holding up a parasol to keep Chloé shaded while the two of them watched Marinette as she finished gathering up her coins. "Tripping over your poorly designed handmade dresses again? Figures, they're so ugly that they hate you for bringing them into existence and it makes them wanna get rid of you. Seriously, you're such a weirdo."

"You know I hate that nickname," she replied as she put the coins back in the cup. "And you know I like my clothes. Now what do you want Chloé, or did you just come to make pointless comments that no one cares about?"

"Why, because you have the absolute worst luck?" Chloé laughed. "Anyway, my Daddy, the mayor, wants to place a cake order with your father." She checked her nails. "We're throwing a party at the inn he owns and it's gonna be super big, which means your cake has to be up to snuff for this event, and it'll end badly for you and your precious Papa if it isn't, got it? He wants it with special blue red and white frosting for his special birthday party. He's reached a remarkable age and that needs to be celebrated. I'm sure you guys can manage to get it made in the next two weeks."

"Chloé, blue frosting is expensive," Marinette replied with a glare. "My father would have to go out of town to get the dyes to make it!"

"Then I suggest you hurry," she replied. "My Daddy has expectations and you had better follow through on them or else your little bakery will be ruined!"

"Then I hope you don't mind the expensive price," said Marinette in return. "I'll bring a few drawings of the cake to your home tomorrow for approval." Chloé opened her mouth. "And I will only take approval from your father on the drawings, not you. Alright?"
"Hmpf, fine." Chloé crossed her arms over her chest. "Tomorrow morning then. Come on Sabrina." Chloé turned away from Marinette, Sabrina following behind her.

"Didn't your father just want a red and white cake," Sabrina asked once Marinette was out of earshot. "I thought he wasn't a big fan of blue. Actually I thought he kind of hated it, like a lot."

"He does," said Chloé with a smirk. "That's the whole point."

"I'm not following," said Sabrina, a confused look on her face. "He's your father. Why would you order a cake for him that you know he'll hate?"

"Because it's all part of a much bigger plan," Chloé replied. "Marinette's going to design a cake he absolutely hates, and then when none of the designs she brings suits his tastes no one will ever go to that bakery again and they'll be run out of town."

"Oh." Sabrina frowned. "You really hate Marinette don't you?"

"Absolutely." Chloé scoffed as she turned to look at the retreating figure before turning back towards Sabrina. "This town will be far better off with that clumsy nitwit gone."

Marinette came back into the bakery, kissing her father on the cheek as she placed the coin cup on the counter.

"I'm back Papa," she said. He smiled and gave her a pat of the cheek before taking the coins from the cup and then frowning.

"This is three loaves short." He looked up at her. "Marinette, I know you want to help people, but give them the left over bread at the end of the day, not the beginning, or else we could miss out on sales. It's going to be the same temperature either way since it's usually cooled off before we open the bakery."

"Actually I uh," she laughed nervously, hands linked together behind her back, "I may have accidentally dropped those three loaves down the well. But," she waved her hands around, "I have good news! Chloé ordered a cake for her father, so I'm going to work up some sketches for it. Unfortunately," she trailed off a bit, "she kinda… ordered… blue… frosting."

"Well that shouldn't be too much trouble," said Tom with a smile as he ruffled his daughter's hair. "During my last trip to Paris I met someone in a village on the way who makes blue dye for food that's much closer than my previous dealer. It's not far so it should only be a two-day trip, three days at the very longest and I don't have any major orders coming up that you can't handle. When's the order for?"

"Two weeks from today," she replied. "It's for Mayor Andre's birthday."

"It's plenty of time," said Tom with a smile. "Can you get the macarons ready?"

"Of course Papa," she replied as she started to plate up some macarons for display, pausing for a moment when she noticed the color. "Why are they red? I thought we were running low on red."

"I suppose I was a little sentimental this morning," he chuckled out as he pulled out a tray of croissants from the oven. "Those were your mother's favorite desert, and red was her favorite color."

"I hardly remember her," said Marinette as she placed the plates of macaroons on the counter.

"I wish you had gotten to know her," said Tom. "She was a wonderful woman. I wish we'd had more time with her." He sighed, looking at a portrait of their family that hung on the wall. Sabine smiled down on them with kind eyes, holding a three year old, excited Marinette in her lap. In the painting Marinette was brandishing a red rose ("you held that pose for hours and the painter was incredibly impressed," her father would always brag) while giving the painter her best toothy grin. Her father looked incredibly happy in the painting with his arm around his wife, and it wasn't that Tom Dupain wasn't a happy man with just his daughter. He was and he was always very kind to Marinette and a loving father. Marinette had just never seen him anywhere near as happy as he had been in that painting.

"Hey Papa," said Marinette as she came over to him, "is the town your going to the one with the rose gardens?"

"Don't tell me you want another one," he chuckled out. "At this point you should start growing your own rose garden."

"I wouldn't have time to take care of it," she pointed out. "With helping out here and making my clothes." She looked down at her dress. "Although maybe I should stop that."

"Stop making dresses?" Tom raised an eyebrow at that. "Why on Earth would you want to do that Marinette? Designing is your life."

"They're not very well made sometimes," she admitted. "Not to mention no one wears the kinds of things I do. It makes me feel… odd and out of place sometimes."

"You're not odd or out of place," he assured her. "You know, it's just that the village is so small. They all have a similar mentality, including fashion. You spent your early years in Paris, the epitome of fashion. There, your clothes would be a huge hit! Tell you what?" He put a hand on her shoulder, "during my trip next year, I'll take you with me and we'll bring your clothes. I bet you can find plenty of women who want to buy them from you! Maybe you'll even sell some outfits to some rich men!"

"Do you really think they'd want to buy my clothes?" She didn't seem certain, especially since this was coming from her father, who would say anything to make her feel better.

"I know so." He pulled her in for a hug. "You're my brilliant daughter after all, and you picked up your mother's eye for design."

"Thanks Papa." Marinette smiled and relaxed into her father's embrace. Her life may have been simple, but it was the small things like this that made Marinette feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

Marinette was helping pack a sidesaddle for a white horse.

"Alright, I think that's everything," she said as she turned towards her father, watching as he started to get up on the horse. "You and Philip stay safe Papa."

"It's not that far," he said with a laugh. "I'll be fine Marinette. And I know you'll be fine running the bakery by yourself until I get back. Don't stay in your room drawing though. If you're going to, do it in the bakery."

"I will," she promised. "And I'll have everything ready in the morning. You can count on me, I promise!" She got up on her tiptoes, her father leaning down so she could kiss his cheek. "Good bye Papa. I love you."

"You always say it like it's the last time you'll ever see me," he said as he flicked the reigns. "Come on Philip. We've got some dyes and roses to pick up for our beautiful girl." The horse whinnied and then started to move off. "Goodbye Marinette! See you in two to three days!"

"Stay safe," she replied with a wave. Once he was out of sight she went back into the bakery, grabbing her lead and some papers. She sat behind the counter, tapping her chin with the lead as she tried to think. "Now, what kind of cakes should I make for someone fancy and rich like Andre Bourgeois?" Her face lit up with an idea. "Aha! That's what I can do!" She started to work hard, making up several different drawings.

The next morning, once the morning crowd had come and grabbed their bread, Marinette was on her way to the Bourgeois household, holding her drawings close to her chest as she knocked on the door of the largest house in the village. After a few moments Sabrina opened up the door, smiling.

"Good to see you Marinette," she said with a smile as she stepped aside. "Mr. Bourgeois is in his office signing some documents. Just go down the hall, take a left and it'll be the second door on the right. Knock on the door exactly three time before you enter to show you're here for business purposes. He is a very busy man and doesn't want to be interrupted until he's ready to talk."

"Thanks Sabrina," said Marinette as she came into the house, following Sabrina's directions until she found the house on question. She knocked on the door exactly three times, waiting for a few moments before hearing him say "come in". Marinette opened the door and sat down in a chair in front of his desk.

"Thank you for seeing me today Mr. Bourgeois," she said as she showed him the drawings, handing them to him so he could go through them. "I took the color scheme your daughter asked me to use and thought about what kind of cake would suit a larger, more elegant party and went from there. If you want to change anything or you don't see a design you like, I can make up some more sketches for the cake."

"I didn't ask for blue," he said with a frown as he looked through the designs. "Actually I rather dislike the color. Red is my favorite."

"Well I can make another sketch set with just red and white," she replied. "There must've been some miscommunication between-"

"However," he said, cutting her off, "these sketches look wonderful! So very patriotic, with the colors of our dear French flag on the cake! As much as I don't like blue, this will make the perfect statement, and they look wonderful! I like this third design the best!" He held up the third sketch, which was a three-tiered cake.

"Alright, but that one's expensive," she warned, pulling out a few small pieces of paper, each one corresponding with a sketch before she handed it to him. "How does that sound? The blue frosting is more expensive to make and the red adds a little more as well, but not as much as the blue." He took the paper and examined it for a few moments.

"A little on the high side but I approve," he said. "I need it by 4 PM two weeks from yesterday, alright? That's when the party starts, even if we won't be cutting into the cake."

"No problem," said Marinette with a smile as she got up, taking the sketches back. "Everything will be perfect Mayor Bourgeois!"

"Have a nice day Marinette," he said as he picked his quill back up and started writing again. Marinette smiled and walked out of the office, trying to backtrack her steps.

"Did your designs all get rejected," asked someone behind her. Marinette rolled her eyes and turned around to see Chloé once again with a smug look on her face. The pieces almost visibly came together on Marinette's face at Chloé tone and expression.

"You lied about him wanting blue on the cake?!" At first Marinette was angry, but then she took in a deep breath before smirking at Chloé well guess what? He loved it. He said the combination of red white and blue made it look patriotic, which is good since he is the mayor of Villevenue. He even agreed to the suggested price."

"What?!" Chloé growled when she heard that. "This isn't the end of it Marinette Dupain-Cheng!" She stormed off, leaving Marinette chuckling as she left the house.

"Serves her right for trying to sabotage me." Marinette sighed as she walked out of the home and towards the bakery. She finished up the rest of the business and closed up the bakery since most of the business was dealt with before late afternoon. Up until dark she spent her time cleaning, drawing, and sewing herself a new dress. Once she was done with that she walked away from the town, towards the rolling hills of the countryside. By their village was a hill so tall that they called it their own personal mountain. In the darkness, she could look towards the sky and see very faint lights, the lights of Paris at night. It was only the faintest, tiniest glimmer. She couldn't see any of the buildings from where she was, but the city was lit up so brightly at night that from where she was she could see the dim light.

"One day," she promised herself, "one day I'll leave this tiny village. I'll return to Paris with my father, and I'll become a world renown fashion designer! Some day, I'll have all these adventures all around the world. I just know it."