Masquerade
"Would you care to have a dance with me?"
The platinum blond turned around, eyes watching the man who offered his hand towards her. He had quite the disagreeable appearance, with a tacky tuxedo that screamed of loud colors, a tiresome top hat, a glittery mask that was out of place with his outfit and an odd, curled mustache above his lips. Yet she could not refuse his invitation, for he was clearly one of the Kalos aristocrats, and it would not be wise to get on his bad side.
"Gladly," she replied, taking the Count's hand while keeping the perfect smile on her lips.
The stout man beamed at her, and despite the height difference, he spun her towards the dance floor, his flamboyant dancing throwing her off. But she kept up with him, years of practice put to good use, and soon, she was on time with the music, while her dance partner continued his odd method of dancing. They remained silent as per the second rule of the ball: no form of conversation is to be made during the dance.
The annual social ball organized by the Kalos royal family had always been extravagant, if not, excessive. Those of the Kalos monarchy had a taste in fashion that she could not understand, and the annual ball was infamous for its foolish rules that were not for the common person to comprehend. She would have done everything she could to avoid coming, but her responsibilities came first, and here she was.
Cynthia suppressed a sigh while trying to convince herself that this is part of her duty as Champion. Yes, coming to a high-class social ball and trying to avoid her feet from getting stepped on was all part of being a Champion. She was not yet used to it, for she had only received the title two months ago, and while she knew what she was doing, she did not quite agree with it.
She should be battling or immersing herself in books on history and myths at the Canalave Library. Not... this.
The first song ended, and while her thoughts were in the midst of slipping away, she off-handedly took the hand of her next partner while the orchestra transitioned to the next song. This time, a middle-aged aristocrat with a bulging belly was her partner. While he looked more presentable than the first, his steps were often one beat later than the music, and Cynthia did her best to avoid letting a sigh escape her lips.
As the Champion, she had to keep up appearances. Be graceful. Be polite. Be poised.
And when the second song reached its last bar, she did the usual, ready to take the hand of whoever she would be partnering with next.
A white, gloved hand took hold of her gently and pulled her closer. She paid no notice to this, however, as she drowned herself in her boredom. The violins started playing the tune to Tchaikovsky, and Cynthia started lightly moving on her feet. Her partner does the same, dancing right on the beat, a certain cadence to his movement that flows with the music. He swings along with her, and mildly surprised by his skill, the blond finally tore herself away from her thoughts, her attention brought to the man before her.
He had a head of silver-cerulean hair that was styled handsomely while a blue cravat was tied neatly around his collar, and a sapphire brooch pinned to the lapel of his grey suit. His long black and gold coat that conformed to the ball's dress code matched with his black mask that had a simple gold pattern adorning the edge of it. He was easily one of the best-dressed men among the guests, and Cynthia curiously shifted her gaze upwards to get a good look of his face.
At the next second, her storm grey eyes locked against a pair of calm teal eyes. Her breath was momentarily taken away, but she hastily reminded herself to breathe. Her heart had made a weird noise just then, and though slightly flustered, she brushed it off, once again reminding herself that she needed to keep her composure.
Her partner merely smiled, and Cynthia was positive that he had read her mind.
Finally looking at me, aren't you? His eyes seemed to say. Cynthia, while embarrassed, flashed a composed smile in return. The waltz starts picking up the tempo, and Cynthia found herself purposefully dancing with more complex moves, wanting to test the extent of her partner's skills.
The man followed with ease, a small smile on his lips that Cynthia regarded to be quite mischievous. She led the dance for a moment, before he took over the reins, grabbing her by the waist and lifting her off the ground smoothly. Not willing to relent, she pulled him to match her pace the moment she landed on the ground. He partook in her lead, and her heart thumped loudly with excitement as she immersed herself in the music, the dance, and his eyes.
She could feel the beautiflies in her belly going crazier the longer he stared at her eyes, and she thought she could hear his heartbeat. There was this distance between them that was being shortened drastically, and Cynthia could not quite put her hand on it. It was a strange, mysterious feeling to her, more so than exploring the Solaceon Ruins, more so than fighting pokémon battles every other day.
It was fun, and Cynthia relished in it. Her partner was skillful, and remarkably so. She could see in his eyes and the air around him that he was somebody, and she wanted to know who he was.
When the last beat was down, the two of them stopped abruptly, and Cynthia felt her heart sink when he released his grip on her hand. The man bowed without a word, and he looked up and flashed a smile.
A smile that was full of sincerity and a tinge of regret.
He soon moved to his right, taking large steps towards his next dance partner. Her gaze followed after his figure, the Sinnoh Champion still in a trance.
A displeased cough brought her back to reality, and she hesitantly took the hand of her next dance partner. The boredom kicked back in, much heavier than before, and Cynthia was this close to letting out a sigh, but she kept her mask on, keeping that perfect smile, that perfect grace, in check.
In the middle of all the unnecessary glitz and glamour of the ballroom, the lone man's eyes swept past the colorful crowd. The princess of Kalos had truly outdone herself this time, and he held stronger feelings of distaste than amazement over the "improvements" the ostentatious heir had made for her annual masquerade balls.
While the breathtaking interior of Parfum Palace helped alleviate Steven's dislike for the whole event, it still did not change the fact that he wanted to quickly get this over and done with. The only reason why he was here, was because he is the Hoenn Champion. The Kalos royal family always sent two invitations to the Pokémon League every year, and despite everyone's reluctance to attend, there was a need to keep up the good reputation of the League. Thus, it became customary for the Champions to take turns to attend, without fail. Such has been the tradition for two decades, and this year was the Hoenn and Sinnoh Champions' turn to attend.
The thought of having someone to accompany him during this bothersome social ball was supposed to ease his mind. Unfortunately, he was not at all acquainted with the Sinnoh Champion.
Other than knowing that her name is Cynthia and that she is the first female trainer to become a Champion in Sinnoh, Steven knew nothing else about her. He has yet to meet her officially, for she had only taken over the position two months ago. And by the twist of luck, he had been busy with his rock excavations during her coronation and had failed to watch the television nor read the newspaper. He knew not of her appearance, nor of her character.
And the fact that this was a masquerade ball made it all the more difficult for the man to convene with the fellow Champion.
In conclusion, he has become stuck here all alone.
A bell struck, signaling the start of the first dance, and Steven got ready to make himself scarce, away from the dance floor. But a heavy tug on his coat said otherwise, and suddenly, his hand was grabbed firmly, and he turned around, confused.
"My, I'll gladly accept your invitation!" A woman with a fluffy pink mask and thick makeup said, pulling him in. Steven barely avoided the unwelcomed kiss the woman was about to land on him, and forcing the best gentlemanly smile he could muster, he started dancing with the lady. His escape plan was effectively demolished, and he cried unseen tears in his despair.
The pink lady regarded him with a fervent gaze, her grip on his hands unnaturally strong. Though uncomfortable, he kept up his best behavior, flashing the same smile he often used, while feeling the dread of having to keep this façade up for the next four dances.
He did not have much of a choice. While it tired him out both physically and emotionally, he had to maintain the smile, as a Champion.
How he wanted to teleport back to Meteor Falls and resume his search for stones and fossils.
The first song came to an end, and Steven politely nodded his head towards the pink lady, who made no effort to hide her squeals as he made his way to his next dance partner.
As he joined hands with the next lady, a gleam of light caught his eye, and unwittingly, his gaze followed after cascading curls of platinum blonde hair that glimmered under the bright ballroom lights.
His breath was instantly cut short at the sight of her.
She was dressed elegantly in a black silk gown, the smooth material flowing down her beautiful figure. A shawl was draped around her shoulders and arms, enhancing the air of dignity around her. While half of her face was hidden beneath a dark, feathered indigo mask, her storm grey eyes exuded a mysterious charm and power.
At one glance, he noticed something vague, yet familiar in those eyes. Eyes that hid something that struck a chord inside him.
The sound of the bass came in, breaking Steven out of his reverie, and he remained calm as he led the dance. Fortunately, his second partner was much easier to dance with, and the two of them moved around without much of a mistake.
Yet, he found himself flitting a gaze towards the same woman every few seconds. He knew he was being terribly rude to his current partner, but he could not help it.
He purposefully led his partner closer to the blond and chided at himself wordlessly at his impure intentions. He knew that he should not be doing this, but his curiosity towards her prevailed. As the second song reached its end, the Hoenn Champion made sure to be within close proximity to the woman.
The song finally ended with a flourish, and Steven bowed and thanked his second partner. As he stood straight, a ticklish feeling in his chest grew, and he scolded himself again in his head. He was supposed to be a gentleman, and his father had definitely not taught him to use such underhanded tactics to approach a woman.
While the ticklish feeling persisted, Steven confidently stepped to his right and stood before the lady, who gazed at him with those bewitching grey eyes.
He noticed right away that she was not actually looking at him.
It was as if she was preoccupied with her own inner thoughts, her attention not on anything in particular. Steven recognized immediately that she was just like him. Someone who came to be here, who had no other choice but to maintain a façade and wait for the time to pass by.
A masquerade.
She was someone like him, living in a masquerade.
He felt a sour pang in his chest, and he knew of this feeling all too well. He then watched her accept his hand without much of a thought, her gaze still not yet upon him.
He then pulled her closer, just a little. He did not know why he did so, but it felt right, somehow. She had no particular reaction, and at the sight of this, Steven solemnly decided that by the end of this dance, he will have this lady to look at him properly.
Tchaikovsky's tune sang in the air, and they took off. Steven made sure to match her dance steps and flow with the music. She did the same, her steps light yet firm. It instantly struck him that her dancing was good. Really good.
Similarly, she noticed his skills, and Steven saw a faint light in her eyes. She was starting to look.
At him.
Her face gradually moved upwards, and when he made eye contact with her, he observed a pink tinge blooming on her cheeks. A small smile unfolded on his lips as the bell of victory rang inside his head. She remained composed, a sure smile flashed back at him, and the music marched on. She began to execute more complex dance moves, and he obliged, immediately understanding that this feisty lady was testing him.
When he kept up with her pace, a look of surprise flashed past her countenance for a split second, before her expression reverted back to that of a calm, unbreakable woman. She began to lead with much confidence, but Steven was not going to be one-sidedly following her. He felt his courage rising, and he daringly lifted her off the ground by a few inches, lightly swinging her around while holding onto her waist.
However, she quickly came back into control of their dance, pulling him towards her with an assertiveness that he willingly went along with, deciding that he shall not tease her any longer. She was clearly a strong woman, and Steven was enthralled by the strength she exuded. It was a strength that mirrored his own. His quickened heartbeat was a testament of his attraction towards her, and subconsciously, he feared that she would hear it.
Their dance was fluid, their steps entirely in sync, and every beat felt so right that the ticklish feeling in his chest was going haywire. It was nothing like the exhilaration he feels every single time he discovers a new rock for his collection, nor was it like the feeling of victory he experiences after winning a pokémon battle. It was a sensation he never felt before.
When the music ended on its last note, he found both the lady and himself stopping without warning, their eyes fixated on each other, and he could see that she was surprised by the unexpected closure of their dance. Steven then released his grip on her slender hand reluctantly, a sense of dread overcoming him, for he knew that it was time to return to the same façade.
He bowed, and he was ready to flash that usual smile. Yet, he was unable to do so.
Instead, he found himself genuinely smiling at her, and her alone. He did not quite know how he looked like at the moment with such an untrained expression, but as he parted with her, he knew that he did not regret smiling that way at her.
It was when he offered his hand to the next partner, did his heart finally made sense that their brief encounter, had ended.
And as if on cue, the usual smile was plastered on his lips, and he was back to the masquerade.
It's been ridiculously long since I wrote anything Pokemon related stories, so pardon me if there are any odd parts in the story. The whole Kalos royalty is just an off-the-head kinda thing.
So here's a story on one of the most underrated (and also one of my favorite) couples in the Pokemon fandom (BlackSteelShipping). It was originally a one-shot, so aye, I've decided to continue this!