Chapter XXXIII
They had reached Hearthome just as the silver stars were beginning to pepper themselves into the black canvas of night. The Pokémon had run straight into Lady Fantina's gardens, with Darkrai tucked inside Owl's shadow to make sure they 'behaved'. And though Nova felt sick in her stomach as she dumped her gear and stared at the flowers – at the place where she, Joy, and Bebe had once dressed up and fought over corsets – she managed to force away the tears. She thought about the tattoo on her back, about what Lucas had said about finding more folk to love, and took a long breath in.
Then, looping her arm into Barry's, the two gladiators and the knight strolled over to the tavern.
Lucas booked a private booth – one that had curtains shielding them away from the other booths. There were still scattered mugs along the table and small puddles that smelt suspiciously like piss, but the three were so cold and tired that they didn't give a damn.
The tavern had been a tangle of hot debates and flirty conversations, with stools and round tables everywhere, with drunken men and women who were telling all sorts of tales. Even though they were veiled behind thick curtains, Nova could still here the three musicians – one strumming a lyre, one beating a drum, and one singing a tune about some lad who couldn't woo a woman.
And so, once the sweet serving lass had slapped a tray loaded with pints of ale onto their table and left, Lucas pulled off his helm and they started to drink.
Nova, herself, only sipped slowly at her mug. Instead, she kept sliding mug after mug towards Lucas, hoping that he would drink the most, that she could finally get somewhere with him.
Thankfully, Nova had been blessed with Barry, who had insisted that they speak about their first loves.
"I remember my first love," he was saying, leaning back and sighing, two empty mugs already before him. "It was when I was a wee lad of six. She had the sweetest voice, was always so kind, always kissed me so gently on me head."
From the opposite side of the booth, Lucas cocked his head to the side. "What happened to her?"
"Nothing," Barry said, shrugging. "Nova wouldn't let me pursue her. Aye, Nova?"
"That's because she was me fucking mother, you dolt."
Barry pouted at his friend's words. "My heart was crushed."
"Oh, to hell with you."
With a grin stretched across his face, Barry tried feeling for a third pint. Only once he had drained the glass did he say, "My second love… Sir Riley. When he saved our arses on Nova's thirteenth birthday."
He was too drunk to feel the girl tense up beside him, and he was too blind to see the knight wince from across him. So, with his words already beginning to slur, Barry was ready to recount the story from beginning to end when Lucas cut him off.
"I don't think you should love someone just because they saved your arse," the knight pointed out.
Nova felt her own lip curl as he said those words.
This was her chance. She should tell him. Then and there. While he was drunk enough to maybe let his guard down, with the empty mug tipped over in front of him.
"You're right," she told him. "It's far more interesting to fall in love with someone after they try arresting your arse, aye?"
She saw Lucas's eyes widen. Saw him understand her words. Saw him flush as he said, "Come again?"
But she never got the chance to speak. For, in that second, Barry had snatched up another mug – a mug that had actually been for Nova – and raised it high in the air.
"It depends, don't it?" he said. "I feel like you shouldn't love someone just 'cause they haul yer rump into a cell, but if ye like the chains and all, then… well, each to their own."
"Cheers to that," Nova chimed in, passing another mug over to Lucas, watching as he raised the glass to his lips and held it there.
Barry took a long sip and sighed.
"My next love was Nova."
Nova, herself, snorted at that. "I remember that. It lasted, what, seven minutes?"
"Eight," Barry corrected.
And though she hadn't seen him drink, Nova realised that Lucas had already drained his glass.
"You two had a thing?" the knight asked them.
"Oh, aye," Barry answered. "I liked Nova for a while, and so I told her. Her answer?" He raised his voice, making it sound like a fussy, high-pitched whine as he said, "Aye, okay Barry, now shut up and let me bandage yer fingers, nonce!"
Both Nova and Lucas laughed at the boy's piss-poor impersonation of his friend.
"You're a cruel one, November," Lucas pointed out with a wry smile.
"It gets worse," Barry quickly added. "I asked her for a kiss, and she said aye, but while I have me lips puckered for a good ol' smooch, she holds up a piece of stinkin' cheese and made me kiss that instead! And I kissed it for, what, a good ol' minute!"
Nova gently punched his shoulder. "It's not my fault that you couldn't tell the difference."
"And it ain't my fault that you kiss as good as stinkin' cheese!"
"Oh, aye? But how come when I actually let you properly kiss me, you tried touching me face, and ended up ripping a full patch of me hair instead?" Nova shot back, shaking her head and turning back to Lucas. "Eight minutes later, we decided we just didn't work."
"Still, the best eight minutes of me life," Barry said wistfully.
"You sop."
Barry ignored her, instead, leaning back against the cold leather and taking a long breath. "After Nova, there was Julia. The first gal I ever tumbled with."
"You what?" Nova burst out, choking on her ale. "Julia? Barry, she was… You tumbled with her?"
Barry's grin was oh, so smug as he found her back and smacked it hard. "I had to recover from the heartbreak you left me with, sweetest Nova."
"Oh, please."
"Anyways, Julia, right?" the boy continued. "She was nice and funny and I knew she fancied me. And so, one mornin', she invited me to her house and we were getting it nice and good. I lasted, what, thirty seconds, and then her fucking husband walks in. Punches me in the eye, and sends me running off, naked as a babe."
Nova wasn't sure she had ever seen Lucas laugh so hard. He had his head buried in his hands, rubbing tears from his eyes, a third mug of ale empty beside him.
The girl, herself, would have been laughing, had she not felt realisation dawn on her.
"Hang on," she said, turning to Barry. "I remember you comin' back with a bruised eye once. Why didn't you tell me what happened?"
Barry grimaced. "I was too embarrassed."
"To admit you got punched in the eye?"
"To tell ya that I only lasted thirty seconds."
This time, Nova couldn't help herself. She threw her head back and laughed, reaching for another mug of ale, wondering how many more girls Barry had tumbled with from Twinleaf without her knowing.
"My next love was Joy," Barry said.
Lucas rolled his eyes, winking at Nova as he said, "Barry, at this rate, I think you fancy just about anyone who breathes in your face."
"This one is real! I know it!" the gladiator protested. "Even right now, I can't stop thinking about her, hearin' her voice, ya know?"
"Whatever you say." The knight then shot Nova a lazy smile, his elbows propped over the table. "What about you, Nova? Your first love?"
"My first love?" Nova repeated innocently. "Oh, it's more tragic than my eight minutes with Barry."
Lucas raised his brow. "Oh?"
"Aye. The first man I really loved told me that he loved me in Veilstone, and then he ran away."
Barry instantly spat out his drink. "Bastard!"
"Aye," Nova agreed. "I never got to tell him that I loved him. He even made it sound like loving me was a problem, ya know? Maybe he didn't like me because I'm from Twinleaf."
"I'll kill him, Nova," Barry promised, his voice low. "I'll kill him. Do you want me to bring you his heart after?"
But Nova wasn't really listening to her fellow gladiator. She was looking straight at Lucas, his pale face, his narrowed gaze. A challenge in her eyes.
"You can't be so sure," the knight murmured, fingering the helm on the table. "There may be more to him running away."
"Like what?" Nova asked.
Lucas frowned. "Like… he has duties. Obligations. And romancing a lass might get him in trouble."
"So, he loves his rank more than his girl?"
"Arceus, November, no, but-"
Barry cut him off with a cough. "Should I be giving you two a room?"
"No," Nova and Lucas snapped at once.
"Right, right." Barry shrank back into his seat, wincing. "Let's change the topic, then, since Nova's love life is far too shocking for us all. Lucas, who was yer first love?"
Despite herself, Nova leaned in as the knight thought about his answer. She took in everything – the way he smiled thoughtfully, the way his eyes shone with memory, the way his fingers wound themselves tightly around his helm.
"My first love was a girl named Roseanne," he finally said. "We grew up in Canalave together, but she never said much to me until I became a knight. She was nice enough, had a sweet smile and a sweet face, but… she wasn't what I was looking for."
Barry nodded thoughtfully. "And what were you looking for?"
"Someone that could see past me being a knight. Someone that would make me think. Someone that would surprise me."
"Surprise you, hey?" Barry grinned. "Well, I surprise you all the time. Maybe after all this gladiator business is done with, you and I could…" He trailed off, wiggling his brows. Lucas laughed.
"After Roseanne, there was Candice," he continued. With a grin that was so boyish and shy that Nova wondered if he had even drunk at all, Lucas added, "She and I only lasted two weeks, and I think I was actually a test to her. After our two weeks together, she decided that she didn't actually like men."
Barry slammed his hands on the table, snickering. "You must have been one hell of a bad lover, then."
"Aye. Though, I did last more than thirty seconds."
"Oh, aye, getting a lil' cocky now, aren't we?"
Nova raised her voice over Barry's slurred words, her curiosity getting the better of her as she set down her third pint and nudged Lucas with her foot beneath the table.
"Let's talk about Roseanne again," she said. "How did you finish it with her?"
Lucas smiled uneasily. "I just told her the truth."
"And what was the truth?"
"The truth is that I never let things go on if I know it's never going to last."
The words dug straight into her heart like a shard of glass.
Because, even though he had said it with a light shrug, she knew they were meant for her.
And, instantly, she regretted having the three pints of ale. She felt so tired, so awake, so angry, so upset, so madly infatuated with him, that she didn't know how to respond. What was she supposed to say? Was she supposed to ask him why he didn't think they would last? Was she supposed to throw her ale in his face? Kick him beneath the table?
She didn't know. She was tired. Awake.
And, most of all, her pride was hurt.
So, November stood on her feet and stormed out of the booth, nearly slipping on a puddle of ale on her way out, the curtains thick enough to muffle the knight's sigh as he swore.
"Oh, shit."
Nova felt like her heartbeat was coming from all over her body – from her palm, from her neck, from her freaking toes as she wove her way around the tavern. There were so many colours mixing together, with folk gambling and carousing, singing and howling and laughing and-
"Do not touch me."
Joy's voice.
She was certain of it, even in her drunken haze. Pushing through the crush of people, stalking further into the tavern, she found herself near a little circle of folk around the bar. Sure enough, Joy was there, her back pressed against the table behind her as she brushed her hair from her eyes.
The poor girl's hands were trembling, and Nova caught the spilled tray and pools of ale by her feet. A few young men were hovering before her, their yellow teeth stretched in leering grins, their leather caps and coats stinking of salt.
"Oh, poppy, you spilt our ale," one of the men was saying. "I could complain to yer boss, or… you can make up for it."
Fury was scrawled over Joy's face, but Nova saw the fear in those eyes. The hesitance.
And so, she walked right up to the men and held Joy's hand. "Let's go."
"Nova?"
The healer stared and stared at the gladiator. At the four jewels shining along her belt. And Nova could see the tumult of emotions in those eyes – anger over her sister's death, sorrow over the way their friendship had unravelled, relief at the sight of someone who had cut through the men to come and help her, and a single pang of wonder as she remembered the flowers in Floaroma.
"Who's this?" one of the men – some lump of a man with striking orange hair – was asking, his eyes set on the gladiator. "Where're ya from, lass?"
"None of yer business," Nova answered curtly.
Just as she moved to drag Joy away, one of the men moved to stand over her. A few others had come over, tightening the little circle, no doubt waiting for the ruckus.
Nova took a long breath as she looked at the men around her. And she felt the fear in her chest lighten as a certain shadow came crawling into her own, so subtly that Nova would have missed it herself had she not heard his voice.
"…hold yourself, nova…"
"Well?" the man demanded. "You gonna tell us, lass?"
Nova turned and forced a polite smile, knowing all too well that a brawl would not do her any good – not with poor Joy shaking beside her.
"I best be off, sir," she said, as sweetly as she could manage. "I would hate to bother you."
"You've already bothered me," he pointed out. Stepping closer. His breath hot in her face. A cruel gleam in his eyes that reminded her all too well of her thirteenth birthday.
"…hold yourself, nova…"
Darkrai was right. She knew he was right. No doubt, he had been waiting in the tavern, keeping an eye on her all along, ready to step in when she was about to do something foolish.
"But I'm sure you'll be more than happy to make up for it," the man said.
His lip curled. And Nova felt her insides lurch with anger, with regret, with bloodlust.
"…hold yourself…"
And then, the man reached out and touched Nova on her chest.
"…you know what? fuck it. destroy them…"
Nova didn't need to be told twice.
Her knee smashed into the man's groin, and she grabbed him by his collar and slammed his big head into the nearest table. There was a sickening crunch that made the drunk men around her shrink back, but that wasn't nearly as awful as the sight of the man after Nova released him.
His lips were mashed in the corner, bleeding and raw, and his teeth…
Nova heard Darkrai laugh as she saw that the poor lad's front teeth were still buried in the wood of the table.
One of the men tried reaching for Nova, but this time, Joy's hand came darting forwards, smashing a wine bottle into his face. He stumbled forwards, and Nova caught him by the ear and shoved him onto the floor.
Everyone across the tavern was watching her – no doubt, a few of them recognising her.
And so, Nova pressed her boot against the man's chest and snarled.
"If you're gonna touch a lass or a lad or a freaking Bidoof," she said, "then make sure you fucking ask first, aye?"
One of the scullery maids was the first to cheer. And though most of the men backed away and winced rather than hooted and clapped, Nova didn't care.
For, in that moment, Joy had thrown her arms around the gladiator and held her tight.
That, she decided, was more important than anything.
Though Joy had to go back to work, she had promised to meet Nova by Fantina's gardens the next morning to natter about their weeks apart, about everything that they should have spoken about weeks ago.
For now, Nova stumbled through alley after alley, her mind only a little dizzy from the ale – but dizzy enough to realise that she had no idea how to get to the gardens.
And her shadow wasn't helping at all.
"Do I turn left here, or right?"
"…well, it depends. are we talking your left, or my left?..."
"Don't we have the same left right now?"
"…of course not…"
Nova groaned. "Okay, I'm turning left."
"…are you sure that's a good idea?..."
"Fine. I'll turn right."
"…and are you sure that's a better idea?..."
"Oh, you are such a piece of-"
Someone grabbed Nova by the elbow, holding her steady. And, as she breathed in the salt and metal, as she immediately decided she knew who it was, she still felt her breath catch as she turned and found Lucas staring at her.
"…see? i told you that left was a better idea…"
Nova ignored the shadow. She just stared at Lucas, who was no longer in his knight gear, but in his regular shirt and britches, frowning.
"You left the tavern an hour ago," he pointed out. "Barry and I left thirty minutes ago, but we couldn't find you at the gardens. He said you were probably alright, but I came looking, and… were you talking to yourself?"
She didn't answer him. She just remembered his final words to her at the tavern. The way it had stung her pride.
"You didn't need to come find me," she told him, her voice as cold as steel. "I'm fine."
The knight closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Then, with a gentle hand on her stomach, he guided her back, letting the lamplight wash over her face as he pressed her against the wall.
"I hurt you," he said. "You left the tavern because I hurt you."
Nova felt her pulse race, felt her cheeks turn warm.
He had never been this close to her – not like this, with one hand curled along her hip and one hand brushing her hair from her eyes. He had never looked at her like this so openly, with pain and desperation and longing churning in the blue of his eyes, with his mouth set in a firm line so close to her own.
"How much have you had to drink?" she whispered.
"Why?"
She placed her own hands on his chest, leaving them there. "Look at you. You're either piss drunk, or you're mad with stress. And I remember seeing about five empty mugs next to you when I left."
"Forget the drinks," he murmured. "I hurt you."
Not a question. A blunt, soft statement.
"Aye," she finally answered. "You did."
His hand moved from her face, down her cheek and throat, twirling a lock of dark hair.
"I'm sorry," he said, his breath impossibly close, his fingers trailing down to her hand as he added, "You're the last person I would ever want to hurt. When I said it in the tavern, I saw your eyes, and I felt like absolute shit. And I'm sorry. Oh, Arceus, November, I'm sorry for everything."
"Everything?"
He smoothed her hair again, the shadows beneath his eyes so deep that Nova wondered, once again, if he had drunk more than just five pints.
"This…" He raised their intertwined hands, holding it between them. "This can't happen. It shouldn't happen."
"Because you know it won't last? We won't last?"
"Aye."
Nova ignored her racing heart, ignored his pathetically heartbreaking frown, and pulled her hand away. "Well, in that case, good bloody night, Sir L-"
"Please, Nova, listen," Lucas cut in, his hand tugging at her shirt, drawing her close. "There are things you don't know. Things you should know, but I'm too much of a coward to tell you."
"Like what?"
His hand was in his hair, his voice urgent as he whispered, "Like… maybe I'm not who you think I am. Maybe I'm not me. Maybe I'm… Why are you looking at me like that?"
Because, despite her embarrassment and fury, despite the heat she felt in her blood as she felt Lucas hold her, Nova couldn't help but snort back her laughter.
"You sound absolutely mad, Lucas," she told him. "Whoever you think you are, and whatever you haven't told me, it doesn't really change anything. You're still the lad who has looked out for me, and you are still the lad who I really care about."
"Nova…"
She eased him back with her hands. "And you're piss drunk. I'm a little drunk, too, but I'm awake enough to know that we should talk about this when you're not drunk and sounding like a madman."
For a second, Lucas looked hurt. But he nodded begrudgingly and stepped back.
"Aye. You're right."
She reached for him and planted a quick, fluttering kiss on his cheek. "Shall we go to the gardens?"
"You go on ahead. I left something in the tavern." He offered her a limp smile. "The gardens are to the left."
"…see? what did i tell you?..."
But it was only after she and the knight had parted ways that Nova realised that, all along, Lucas's breath had never smelt of ale.
50 followers? Check. 50 favourites? Check. A well-placed filler chapter of our favourite trio getting drunk to celebrate this? Check.
Seriously, though. Thank you to everyone who has supported this story – silent, or not. Thank you for all the reviews, for all the artworks, for all the music recommendations, for all the theories and kind words. Sinnoh is a region I am so ridiculously passionate about, and to have such a beautiful bunch of people join me… Words cannot express how grateful I am. Thank you very much!
Also, I know I said chapters would be delayed by 24 hours. But I had 30 seconds this morning while the kettle was heating, so here we are!
