Last Time On TMOM:
The lookalike hero, a rude armored knight, sweet rolls and a disobedient Charizard.
Quote: "This little mouse beat you with a dragon."
Chapter Six: The Dance
There's no room left for me in this shelter
What did you expect me to become?
-EarlyRise
The Hero of Wave seemed like a pretty sweet title until it was actually bestowed on him. There was probably some fine print somewhere that mentioned all the pomp and ceremony behind winning a simple pokemon tournament. They failed to mention that by winning, Ash'd be forfeiting his right to actually enjoy the party supposedly held in his honor.
After the match was over, they whisked him away almost immediately. 'They' being a jumbled mess of castle staff who rushed him into a wing of the castle he'd had yet to see. By the lush furniture, plush carpets, chandeliers rocking from high ceilings and walls crested by elaborate crown moldings, Ash assumed he was in the royal wing. But Ash wasn't given long to marvel at his surroundings. He was pushed forcefully into a chair where a tired-looking maid dusted him with a makeup brush.
He tried to tell them that boys don't wear makeup, but that just made the servants laugh. Any further protests would get him a mouthful of brush, so he shut up. Ash fumed silently as they plucked and prodded him with their cosmetic tools, dreading the end result. However, when his chair was spun back around to the mirror, Ash was pleasantly surprised. He looked much the same as he had before, his skin a bit more bronze perhaps and eyes looking brighter. If he hadn't just gone under this torturous makeover, Ash would have just thought he rolled out of the right side of the bed.
After makeup, Ash was dragged unwillingly into the hall where his kidnappers proceeded to take picture after picture of him. Yes, they definitely didn't mention this as part of the package.
Ash suspected it was probably worse than normal, too. They kept pushing him in front of Sir Aaron tapestries, demanding that he mimic the man's various poses. One such time, Ash couldn't resist a snide remark back the tapestries' way.
"Lucky you died before they could get their hands on you."
That got him scolded. The photographer was more mad that he broke his pose than what he had to say though. It was a rather uncomfortable chest-rearing pose that looked nice and heroic on Sir Aaron. On Ash, he felt like a confused primeape. If he thumped on his chest and yelled, he'd fully complete the image. It would also get him into more trouble. So, of course, Ash couldn't resist.
Pikachu watched all of this busy fuss carry on without him. While Ash did try to pull his pokemon in from the sidelines, no one was much interested in taking pictures of a pokemon that Sir Aaron never owned. They did, however, beg for Ash to let Pidgeot out for a few shots, which made Ash regret trying to get Pikachu involved.
Not that Pikachu minded being disincluded. He had found a new friend in a rather mischievous Aipom. And while Ash suffered his reward as hero, Aipom led Pikachu to all the secret passages and hideaways that the castle had to offer. He'd pop back for a bit to acknowledge Ash's misery, but it was hard to stay put when Aipom would sneak back around with an armful of poffins.
After the photographers determined they had abused him tolerably enough (or rather, once the natural light had diminished with the setting of the sun), Ash was finally instructed to join the evening festivities. He hadn't even been given a second to get nervous; they had him by the wrist again. Someone else was pushing him from behind. It was in this way that he was led to the great ballroom.
It was an impossibly large room with high, sweeping ceilings and everything colored a tarnished bronze. Everything, from the enormous glass-paned veranda doors to the inlaid paintings of dripping gold, was made to make Ash feel small and insignificant. A sizable crowd had gathered in the center of the room, evidently being the tournament spectators from before. While he had been off playing celebrity, these people had been allowed to leisurely file into the ballroom and gorge themselves on tasty appetizers. Perhaps he would have been jealous from the outside looking in. He, probably like many in the ballroom, would have envied all the special treatment he imagined the winner would receive. But from this side of the door, the grass sure looked nicer where they were sitting.
There was no casual way to enter a room this large, especially not through the chamber doors he had been evicted from. The entourage that had both been his constant guide and perpetual thorn in his side abandoned him at the door. He was left standing exposed, holding his breath as the familiar feeling of countless eyes on him shivered up his spine. The crowd became louder and pressed together, some standing on their tiptoes to look at him. He saw them as a single mass of eyes and flashing teeth, a beast simpering and snickering at him. He pulled the brim down low to hide his face and almost marched his way into a nearby pillar.
Thankfully, a familiar feeling of pattering feet climbing up his back and then tugging on his ear, reined him out of the way.
"Can't leave you alone for five seconds," Pikachu huffed, knocking the boy's hat back with a smile. Ash weakly returned the smile. And then, something catching his eye, Ash dusted off the pokemon's snout.
"Is that—Where did you get poffins?"
"Hero of Wave."
The call snapped Ash back to attention. He looked up and across the steeped dais where two very regal nobles stood waiting. They had both vacated their thrones to meet Ash halfway, but even halfway was taxing with an audience scrutinizing your every step. The polished floor unkindly carried the loud sound of his footsteps as he joined Cameron's royal family.
Roman spared Ash a comforting wink. But Aileen had fully donned the royal visage, gown and all. Though her painted lips offered the smallest of smiles, it was she who had commanded him forward. And it was she who rigidly wielded a staff in his direction.
She twirled and twisted it about gracefully before raising it up for Ash to see. No, not him, Ash realized with a wry smile as the princess raised it over Ash's own head. It was all a show for the audience that had gathered.
"This staff once belonged to Sir Aaron, the original Hero of Wave. It is the chosen weapon of a guardian. And it is the only remaining possession of a lost hero." Aileen thrust the staff in front of Ash's face, startling him. He looked from her to the staff and then back again. He only just understood before she gently rolled it into his hands.
It was lighter than it looked, which made it feel more fragile too. The last thing Ash needed to do was break a thousand year old artifact after winning a tournament he wasn't even allowed to enter. The wooden shaft ended in a curious amalgamation of metal and crystal.
Pikachu, from his perch on Ash's shoulder, leaned in, sniffing. The metal tassels clinked as softly as a wind chime when turned about in Ash's hand. Within its metal cage, the ice-colored crystal shimmered pleasantly. Pikachu pulled back, seemingly satisfied. Ash, however, couldn't make heads or tails of it. This was Sir Aaron's weapon? Was Sir Aaron a magi then?
The multi-faceted gem seemed to shine in answer. And somewhere down deep, a voice rose up and tickled at Ash's ear.
Why? It whispered, choked with tears. Why why?
Ash bristled at the sound. He looked about wildly, unable to find the ghost who had spoken.
"For the night, you are the embodiment of our great Sir Aaron," Aileen continued, drawing Ash momentarily away from the voice. "Our Hero of the Wave. Chosen through battle and strife, you shall lead the festivities we hold in your honor."
Battle and strife, Ash smiled. It was one simple pokemon tournament. Hardly the ordeal the princess was making it out to be. Cameron sure liked to ham up their crazy festivals.
Coward, came the voice again. It was hissed this time, with all the maliciousness of a dagger slipped between his ribs.
"May Sir Aaron's blessing continue to shine upon his beloved kingdom in the—"
"I'm sorry," Ash whispered, cutting off Aileen's speech. "Did you just— Did you hear something?"
For a second, Aileen's mask slipped. He could see the the real girl underneath, rattled by his unrehearsed interruption. She coughed and then grinned, "My speech boring you, Ash?"
"No, no! I swear I just heard-"
Traitor. Betrayer. Villain.
"A voice…"
Their audience began to rustle uneasily in the unexpected silence. Even the dull hum of their voices wasn't enough to block out the bodiless voice Ash could hear.
Aileen leaned closer, as if sharing in a conspirators' secret. "What voice?"
"I'm not sure. But I could swear I heard something—"
His eyes had flickered to the staff for the briefest of moments. And somehow the crystal glint caught his eye. Much like a familiar face would enrapture before disappearing in a passing crowd, Ash was transfixed by its sudden glow.
Murderer.
Ash dropped the staff.
Thankfully, Roman was there in time to catch it.
"Whoopsie daisy," Roman chuckled, playing it utterly cool after having single-handedly rescued an ancient artifact from its untimely end. Oblivious to Ash's white-faced shock, he gently handed the staff back to the young man. "Got a mind of its own, it does. Hold tight to it or it will get away from you again."
When Ash didn't immediately reclaim ownership, the King forced it on him- not unkindly. He pressed Ash's own unwilling hands around its polished hilt, squeezing his larger hands over Ash's smaller ones to sink the point home.
Pain from his lightly crushed fingers knocked Ash's sense free from wherever it had gotten stuck. He nodded and held the staff more firmly; closer to his chest. Pikachu was looking at him curiously. As were, probably, the rest of the crowd. They were muttering and hissing amongst themselves, most likely chalking his poor performance up to nerves. He was the oddest of the pokemon trainers, wasn't he? But he's so young. Look at him, shaking. Poor dear.
None of those whispers were like the one he had heard in his head.
Have I cracked? Ash thought.
It wasn't as if such self-deprecating thoughts hadn't crossed his mind since the events that stripped him of his license. The guilt of battling when certain people couldn't anymore was almost suffocating, but Ash thought he had a handle on it.
This voice wasn't like the cruel thoughts of his own invention, though. It felt somehow outside himself, even though no one else could hear it. Somehow… Ash suspected a pokemon was involved.
But where? Other than Pikachu perched on his shoulder, there weren't any pokemon close enough to whisper such insidious things.
That and… pokemon couldn't talk. Most pokemon couldn't talk.
Legendaries could.
The thought of an evil invisible Lugia floating over his head sent a shiver down Ash's spine. Was that even possible? Wasn't it more likely that he was just going crazy?
Aileen threw up her arms, waking Ash suddenly from his revierve. "And now," She announced, "in honor of great Sir Aaron and this year's Hero of Wave, let us start the annual pokemon ball!"
Amidst cheers and applause, dancers grabbed partners and spun out onto the dance floor. A band struck up their instruments at the princess' cue, filling the large room with the pleasant sounds of music and laughter. And no bodiless whispers.
Ash clutched the staff protectively, still feeling exposed where he stood on the dais. He was startled by a soft hand taking his own and spinning him about.
"Don't look so nervous, Ash. You won," Aileen smiled, the facade of the cold princess melting away at last. Not that it made Ash feel that much better. With his hand in hers, Ash was sure she could feel the rapid rate in which his pulse was fluttering.
"The hard part is over," chimed in King Roman over his daughter's shoulder. "Now for the party!"
The King waved down a passing waiter who was handing out glasses of chilled rum. But before he could take up a goblet and chug it down, Aileen snagged it from his hand.
"You have to wait for the fireworks, Dad," Aileen scolded, dropping the goblet back onto the tray and shooing the waiter away. King Roman watched the goblet leave with a frown.
"Aw, you have it, honey. You don't need me."
She playfully slapped his cheek. "I need you sober at least. Ash can help me make the announcement, can't you Ash?"
"Wha— huh? Oh yeah. Sure."
She smiled at him again. It was a radiant one and made his whole face go hot. It chased his thoughts away, leaving him with no time to wonder just what he had agreed to. Ash was starting to believe that all princesses' smiles had the power to stop hearts; his was pounding so hard it hurt. There was only one other girl who had smiles like that, but thinking about her hurt. So he tried not to.
Instead, he focused on the golden-haired girl in front of him, the one hiding underneath a wig and flashy gown. Aileen took his hand again before he could sputter in his adolescent awkwardness long. Her hand felt soft in his own and she led him firmly. Then Aileen purposely twirled him into a chair. It was artfully done. He fell into the seat neatly—surprisingly. The chair only rocked back once before falling softly back onto all four legs. Pikachu was less than thrilled, opting to immediately drop into Ash's lap after the unwelcome spinning. He groaned his own name and Ash obediently rubbed the pokemon's back. Ash noticed his seat was still high on the dais, a step lower than their own royal thrones.
"Your seat, milord," Aileen beamed, giving a flourished bow. It suited her better than a cursy might. Ash couldn't help smiling back despite the flutters in his chest.
"Great," said Ash. "I have a great view of everyone getting a great view of me."
Aileen winked. "That's the general idea."
At Ash's sour expression, Aileen playfully pat him on the head. It didn't much make him feel better. It made him feel more like Pikachu. "It's only until the fireworks. Then you can party with everyone else."
Ash looked out on all the swirling gowns, their owners and partners twirling about on the dance floor like tops. He wasn't used to this sort of party and didn't much like the thought of stumbling among them with his own two left feet.
But then a sudden realization came upon him.
"You mean I have to sit here? The whole time?"
"That's right," clucked an older woman on Ash's right. He whirled about, taken aback by her entrance. He hadn't heard the woman approach nor did he recognize her. Thankfully, Aileen was there to offer a way of introduction.
"Come on, Jenna," Aileen pouted. "Don't be such a spoilsport. He's just a kid."
Jenna straightened to her full unformidable height of five foot flat, sticking her crooked nose in the air. Ash knew before she opened her mouth that Jenna wouldn't be saying anything favorable.
"Tradition dictates that the hero needs to be visible to the populace. He ("Or she," Aileen interrupted) must remain seated, looking dignified with proper posture," Jenna paused to unwelcomely pull at Ash's shoulders so that he sat straighter. "... and stay ever vigilant over the proceedings."
"The whole night?" Ash groaned, his spine feeling like it had been hung up on a coat rack.
"Until the fireworks," Aileen offered before Jenna's disapproving glare could hush her. "Until the fireworks, Jenna. He's a kid."
Not that Ash didn't appreciate Aileen's help, but he was really starting to dislike how often she called him a "kid". He was practically sixteen, only two years younger than Aileen herself. Hardly a little kid anymore.
Pikachu, who had been privy to all the proceedings from the safety of Ash's lap, decided he wasn't going to suffer the fate of his owner. Abandoning Ash to his stiff back and boredom, Pikachu leapt down. Ash watched dejectedly as Pikachu rushed off to join Aipom, who had taken to playing underneath the dining tables.
At least Pikachu is having fun, Ash thought glumly, dropping the staff across the lap his pokemon had vacated.
Why did you betray me?
Ash didn't need Jenna's help to sit boltright up in his seat now. He looked about wildly, but once again, saw no source to the bodiless whisper. Aileen noticed. She was about to say something, but was interrupted by an ever oblivious Jenna.
"Traditions dictate where a princess must be, too." She waved over to the pair of thrones, one of which was already occupied by the King. But Roman hardly set an example, draped across the seat unhappily as he hungrily eyed the banquet table.
The sight of the king made Jenna huff in disapproval. But her point had been made. Aileen whispered a soft apology to Ash before being escorted back to her seat. Ash had hoped that Jenna would stay with the royal family, but she came back to him; settling herself as comfortably as a crow would perched by his shoulder.
"Some prize this was," Ash grumbled to himself.
"It's not a prize. It's a duty," Jenna snapped unhelpfully.
Ash responded by lightly knocking himself upside the head with the staff until Jenna made him stop.
Maybe he was still just a kid.
James was never good at this part. His hands were shaking so badly he had to hold his one hand steady as he eased the wayward pokeball back into the stranger's pocket. It didn't help that said stranger was currently preoccupied in flirting with Jessie. He kept stepping back and forth, making it really difficult to perform this good deed.
Once the pokeball was back where it had been stolen from, James retreated. He ignored Jessie's pointed glares and wandered over to the banquet table. There was a line of seats pressed against the wall, waiting. James gratefully sank into one.
Meowth, who had been delighting himself more with the food than the pokemon score, saddled over with a full plate. He climbed up next to his partner and reluctantly offered an eggroll. James pushed it away.
"You look plumb tired," Meowth mumbled through a mouthful of food.
"I've been spending the last hour keeping Jessie from robbing people," James sighed, waving helplessly the redhead's way. She was growing impatient with her current mark, still sending glares their way. James watched her hands, knowing only too well how quick she was at sneaking something away.
"You shud just let her be. She aint bothering nobody."
"We promised Ash."
"You promised. Let Jessie have her fun. Maybe we can get some decent grub from fencing what she grabs."
James lightly bopped the cat upside the head. "Just eat, Meowth. Don't talk."
While the smack was light, it still pushed the pokemon's face into his plate of food. He looked grumpily up at James, his face dripping with soy sauce, rice and bits of fish. James at least had the decency not to laugh.
"I was eating!" Meowth yoweled. Muttering unkind things under his breath, Meowth jumped down from the chair. As he headed back to the food, he spared one tiny gem of wisdom for his partner, though Meowth thought he hardly deserved it.
"If yah want to stop Jessie, ya need tah distract her."
"Distract her?"
Meowth nodded. "Someding shiny. Or maybe some catnip. You know, wid someding nice?"
James' face fell. "Jessie isn't a cat."
"Fine. Suit yerself."
Meowth huffed off, leaving James with something of an idea in mind. His eyes wandered away from Jessie and to the dancers that swung back and forth along the dance floor between them. Would it work? Jessie always seemed the romantic type.
Not usually for him, though.
Jessie, meanwhile, had just brushed off another mark with the tried and true request for drinks. She imagined her temporary suitors were probably all lined up to get drinks for her. Hopefully they wouldn't converse. Not that it mattered to her one way or the other; once she was done with a mark, she wiped them off her conscience, like dust off her shoulders.
She liked the sound of her ruffled petticoat as she sauntered towards the next group of people too tired or shy to dance. It made her feel wealthy, sheathed in such an abundance of rich fabric. And this twofold act of seduction and robbery was actually something Jessie could say she excelled at. She had the kind of pretty face and toned body that could and would always catch eyes, and she could play the demure mademoiselle long enough to slip a hand into an unprotected pocket. Jessie thrilled at being back on the hunt, doing something she was actually good at rather than aggressively chasing a pokemon trainer and his pikachu. If only James wasn't being such a bleeding heart.
Speaking of the devil, over he walked, cutting off her path to her next batch of potential victims.
"Jessie."
"James," Jessie spat back none too kindly. When she tried to walk around him, James moved with her. Jessie fell back, resting her hand on her hip in understated frustration. "Mind getting out of the way?"
"I've been doing you a favor, really."
"How do you reckon?" She wasn't really invested in what James had to say. Once again she tried to duck around him. And once again, he was there blocking her path.
"Kissing the dog with all your targets? They could track you down, you know?"
"That's my style, James."
"And I told you before, letting the victims see your face is stupid."
"Why have this face if I can't use it?" She flashed James her best sexy upward glance, but even fluttering eyelashes and full lips didn't move her obstinate partner. Jessie huffed, crossing her arms and turning away from him. "Fine. Spoil my fun. You know you are well on your way to ruining my evening, James."
"I'm sorry."
Jessie harrumphed loudly, making a show of impatiently tapping her heeled feet and tossing her hair. She was never one to be bothered about making a scene. Let the world see her discontent and strive to make amends! Besides, she had no patience for James now, not when the sidelines of the dance floor held such an abundance of vulnerable prey.
"Um… How about I make it up to you?"
"And how would you do that?" Jessie turned back, intent on flatly refusing whatever apology-themed act he had planned, but she was met with an opened hand and flushed cheeks. Jessie looked between his hand and red cheeks suspiciously.
"What is this?"
"Dance with me, Jessie."
"Dance with you? James, honey— I have danced with you. You dance like a girl."
James' cheeks went a brighter red. "I do not."
"Do too. James, I've seen you in a tutu. Not that you don't wear it fabulously, mind you. But uh—and, well—honestly, I'm just not in the mood."
"Oh come on," James whined with far more exasperation than Jessie was used to hearing from him. "I know how to waltz. I took lessons as a kid. Let me treat you for a change."
Jessie leveled him a look. "You're really hung up on this, aren't you?" James nodded and Jessie let out an exaggerated sigh. "Fine, fine. One dance."
James held out his hand for her once again and Jessie rolled her eyes in response. She slapped her own hand in his. Per usual, James responded with gentleness. He pulled her close, resting his free hand lightly on her hip before flashing her a smile.
"I'll lead."
Jessie frowned and looked furiously at her feet. "Sure. Whatever," She mumbled.
While in James' mind he had planned to be magnificent, reality often had a hard time mirroring fantasy. He knew all the steps well enough, but with Jessie in his arms, knowledge just seemed to have a way of slipping away. Perhaps he was just to used to letting her take charge. It felt awkward trying to force his sluggish feet through the steps. It didn't matter if it were Jessie or Jessibelle, James was far more comfortable taking a passive role.
Even with his ill-timed steps, James was surprised to discover that it was working. A smile was playing on Jessie's lips as he spun her about the dance floor. Where he thought for sure she'd be impatient, she waited. When he stumbled, she laughed. And James found himself laughing too.
Somehow, they were both having a good time. One dance stretched into two. Then three. James even let Jessie lead for a while, which got them more than a few stares. But neither cared. Jessie was the best at dipping. She'd dip him so low his hair dusted the floor. James was better at twirling her on account of his height and longer arms.
Soon James forgot all about distracting Jessie. It was much more fun just to enjoy himself. But two birds with one stone and all that.
Though Ash hadn't really wanted to embarrass himself on the dance floor, it was absolutely miserable up on his makeshift throne. Still the wizened maid at his shoulder wasn't showing any signs of leaving. Ash tried to settle into a chair that refused to be settled into, desperately reining in any hope of being rescued from his misery. His empty stomach was making hollow growling sounds, only adding to his discomfort.
How could winning a tournament be such a punishment? Was this payback for entering with a suspended license? Ash wasn't sure he deserved it.
For lack of anything better to do, Ash took to examining the large portraiture behind him. Like many of the paintings and tapestries in the castle, it was of Sir Aaron. If he tilted his head back far enough, he could see the painting in full. It was at least three times the size as the actual Sir Aaron, that is unless Sir Aaron was secretly a giant on top of his many other grand features. He was standing with his staff raised high above his head, the crystal shining like a beacon.
The crystal had gleamed like that for him, too. Or was that just a trick of the light? Ash couldn't be sure. A sick feeling fell heavily in his stomach, shining crystal reminding him of the shining orbs on Shamouti island. He sat firmly back in his seat, holding the staff as far away from himself as possible.
Then, from over the back of his chair, came an upside-down face. At first, Ash thought it was Jenna, come again to scold him for not looking dignified enough. But the long hair of her wig tickled his face as he looked up into her bright, smiling face.
"Boo," Aileen grinned, only just holding her hair and crown in place.
"P-princess—"
"Oh, hush with that." Aileen straightened, taking up Jenna's perch by his side. The fussy maid was nowhere to be seen, and Ash was somewhat alarmed that he hadn't even noticed her leave.
Aileen brushed back her hair, but the wig was hopelessly mussed. "It's Aileen to you," she continued. "The Hero and Queen got along famously, after all."
Ash sunk further back into his chair. "I'm no hero."
"Don't sell yourself short. You battled fiercely this afternoon. I'm sure you would have made even Sir Aaron himself nervous."
"That was just a pokemon battle."
"Six pokemon battles."
"Yeah. I battle a lot as a trainer. It's nothing special."
Aileen pouted and pushed Ash's hat down over his gloomy face. "If you're determined to be a poot, maybe I'll have to rethink my dance partner."
Ash started at that. He pushed his hat back to stare back up at the young princess.
"Are you asking me to dance?"
Aileen found it hard to keep her pout in place. "I was thinking about it."
"B-but—" Ash spun about in his seat, looking for the wayward maid. "I thought I—I thought we weren't supposed to move."
"We aren't. I sent Jenna on an errand," Aileen shrugged as if this were effortlessly done. "You can thank me later."
Before Ash could properly defend himself, Aileen had him by the wrist, dragging him down the dais steps. Ash only just managed to prop up the staff in his wake so it didn't clatter to the floor behind them. That would have been embarrassing. But perhaps no less than what was happening now.
Ash was not a good dancer by any means. He knew enough to shuffle aimlessly to the beat, but to create any meaningful movement from his swaying? That art was lost to him. Still, even as bad as he was, Ash knew enough to realize that Aileen was worse.
She yanked him around the dance floor like a mop, sweeping him left and right. Being a head shorter and less aggressive, Ash found himself quite at her mercy. He was left with no other option but to cling awkwardly to any part of her—a shoulder, an elbow—just to hang on for dear life. Odd that a princess would be so poor at dancing, a decidedly princess-like task. Perhaps that's why they were all regulated to their respective chairs for the evening: so that they wouldn't make a fool of themselves.
At least Aileen seemed to be having a wonderful time. All smiles and laughter, she seemed completely heedless of the wide berth the other dancers gave them. She didn't see how people were hiding their own smiles behind their hands, but Ash did. And his blush just grew more and more pronounced.
In the climax of a particularly joyous tune, Aileen haphazardly threw out her arms, flinging Ash into a group of nearby dancers. They mercifully caught him before he hit the marble floor. And to Aileen's credit, she rushed to his side looking appropriately embarrassed and apologetic.
"Oh my goodness! Are you alright, Ash?"
"Took quite a spill there didn't you, little mouse?"
Ash didn't need to look up to know who had made the lucky grab. He did anyway, preparing to glower at the woman. However, his expression quickly melted to one of surprise. Instead of her heavy polished armor, Kidd was now garbed in a lovely crinoline gown of her own. Her crimped hair was pulled back and neatly adored with a charming headpiece made of chain mail links and crystals. And her eyes were blue. Ash never noticed her eyes before.
"Struck stupid by my beauty once again?"
Ash forcefully wiggled himself free from her helpful hands, even if it did mean he ended up stumbling before he was able to get back to his feet. "Stop calling me mouse."
"I'm terribly sorry. It was my fault. I didn't mean to spin him quite so hard."
Kidd waved off Aileen's sputtering apologies just as she waved off her partner's offered hand. She climbed back to her feet alone and looked between the two younger dancers with a smile Ash didn't quite like.
"You two are poorly paired."
Ash colored but it was Aileen who indignantly responded, "I beg your pardon?"
Kidd threw up her hands protectively. "Sorry, sorry. But you are both terrible dancers. Like… really bad."
"Like to see you do any better," Ash grumbled. Unluckily for him, Kidd heard him. She grinned at him.
"Was that a challenge?"
"Hey hey. Ash is my partner—we only have a few minutes to spare. Now shoo. Mind your own business," Aileen huffed. She grabbed Ash's arm, fully intent on dragging him off for another dangerous few minutes of spinning, flinging and trodden feet.
"I can teach you." Kidd had come around, cutting off their exit before Aileen could safety whisk them out of range. "To dance, I mean. Gods know you both could use it. Might make the dance floor a little less dangerous, too."
"I… um… well…"
Ash could see Aileen's resolve was dissolving. Perhaps she was more aware of her own poor dancing ability than she had let on. But Ash was less willing to learn. He was quite happy with his aimless swaying, thank you very much.
"We don't need dance lessons."
"Aw come on, Ash. You'd impress a lot of girls."
"Girls… girls don't care about—" But even as Ash said it, he could see the color rising to Aileen's cheeks. Ash frowned and crossed his arms. Kidd took his pout as answer enough.
"Alright, princess. You can go with Edmund here. He dances quite well. All you have to do is let him lead."
Kidd's partner, far from being upset at losing his original partner, appeared delighted at the chance to dance with royalty. Ash didn't much like the look of him either, all pompous frills and ruffles. He was tall, too. Edmund looked like a far more appropriate partner for the princess. At least Ash could take solace in the fact that Aileen looked as unsure about the new partner as Ash felt.
"Your grace," Edmund simpered.
Once Edmund had taken Aileen's hand and led her gracefully back out onto the floor, Ash was left to stare Kidd down.
"I don't want to dance with you," he said flatly. Kidd was completely unfazed.
"Brrr, Ash. I'll catch a cold!" Ignoring his protests, she took both of Ash's hands in her own. Where Aileen's hands had been soft and cold, as if cut from cool glass, Kidd's were calloused and warm. They were strong hands, those of a worker. A climber, even. Lost in his speculation, Ash let her position him appropriately.
She placed one of his hands on her waist, just a breath above her hip. The other she clasped warmly in her own.
"We'll start with an easy one, the waltz. Just three steps. Very easy. I'll lead first, then you."
Ash watched her move her feet. Then he made poor and clumsy attempts at imitating her. He trod on her feet once, tripped up over his own feet three times, and once over nothing but air. But slowly, very slowly, Ash began to trick his feet into behaving. Along with the whispered beats from Kidd—"one two three, one two three, one two three"—Ash was finally able to confidently lead her through the first half of one song. He was still too short, and he couldn't perform any of the dips or spins Edmund was showing off with. But somehow, he was dancing.
"Good, Ash. Good," Kidd smiled without any hint of her usual sarcasam. "You catch on quick."
Ash hoped this meant she'd let him return to dancing with Aileen. Not that Kidd was being as teasing as she had been before;Ash was just hoping to get a second chance at dancing with the princess properly.
But unluckily for him, Jenna was back and glowering over at them from the dais, arms crossed and tapping her foot loudly. Ash and Aileen were forced to disengage from their partners and return to the dais where the maid was waiting.
Jenna wouldn't even hear Aileen's apologies, shooing her back to her seat. To Ash, she said nothing. She merely thrust the staff back into his arms and motioned to the seat he'd left empty. Ash obediently complied.
He could see that the skies outside were almost completely black. Hopefully, his earned torture would soon be over.
Meowth hadn't any altruistic reasons for behaving himself. There was good food to be had and as a chronic sufferer of poor initiative, Meowth had no inclination to start thieving without his partners.
If his humans weren't there to take the fall, no reason for him to do so. Pokémon already had the short end of the stick anyway, stuffed into pokéballs and forced into playing warrior servants for the humans' entertainment. Count Meowth out! Other Pokémon could do what they wanted, but this Meowth was too smart to play the humans' game without incentives.
However, his eyes did follow Aipom and Pikachu as they chased each other out of the banquet hall. He only meant to see what they were up to, make sure no other pokemon thieves got the drop on Pikachu while they weren't looking.
The latter was just a passing thought, of course. Meowth was truly startled when a young woman snuck into the room too, clearly in pursuit. Meowth flattened himself against the wall, as much as one could in a full suit of pokémon-sized armor. His plate of food went carelessly tumbling across the floor.
The pursuer didn't seem to notice; she'd trodden on a salmon roll without looking and kept after the duo. The human had a mouthpiece she was rapidly speaking into. He watched in fascination as she discarded the heavy ball gown in favor of a skintight jumpsuit she'd smuggled in underneath. She continued talking in a low voice through the mouthpiece as she tied her long hair up into a high ponytail. And then, after stuffing her dress unceremoniously into a nearby bookcase, she casually slipped out the window.
They were on the fourth floor. Meowth didn't dare look after her. Somehow, he knew she wasn't the kind of person to simply jump out of a window. There was real purpose in her actions.
"Geezus," Meowth breathed once she was gone. "I hope she ain't with White Ice. Dat'd be just our luck."
If Meowth was smart, he'd pick up his trodden sushi and return to the party. He knew that would be the smart thing to do. But Meowth was more curious than he was smart; he couldn't help himself.
If White Ice was after their Pikachu, he'd need to find out why, even if it meant getting more involved than he'd like.
Ash was currently pretending to be a statue. Anything to get Jenna's beady eyes off his back. He wasn't quite sure he looked as regal as Jenna wanted. Stiff and tired, perhaps.
As the orchestra's final song petered off, couples broke apart for a smattering of applause. Before Ash knew it, all eyes were turned up to the dais again. The royal family descended the steps behind him, coming to rest just before his own seat. Roman was smiling his way. Aileen had once again donned her mask and only had eyes for the eyes that were upon her.
"It is now time that we pay our final tribute to the great hero. Our chosen guardian will lead the proceedings, Sir Ash from Pallet town," Aileen bowed her head beckoning him forward with a single sweep of her arm. At the sound of his name, Ash lurched to his feet and stumbled to his place by the princess's side. So great was his haste that he almost left the staff behind, startled when Jenna shoved it back into his arms.
The King came over in the guise of giving his blessing, and Ash was forced to kneel. While he stood in front of Ash, gently knocking the flat of his blade against Ash's shoulders, he began whispering things Ash found completely unrelated to the task at hand.
"Now Ash," Roman muttered under his breath quickly, obviously trying to avoid being overheard by the other guests. "You are going to give the firework's signal. You need to say the hero's chant, then raise the staff in Sir Aaron's signature pose." He bounced the sword against Ash's right shoulder. "Got it?"
"What?"
All too suddenly, Ash was abandoned again. He was kneeling before the watchful eyes of the assembly, completely at a loss. Ash rose uncertainly, placing his weight on the staff as he did so. His fingertips grazed the edge of the crystal as he adjusted his grip, and that tiny touch sent a sharp stab of cold up his fingers, jarring whatever small bit of courage he was mounting.
Sir Aaron.
King Roman was gesturing at him, lifting his hands over his head. Ash shook his head to show he didn't follow. Then Aileen discreetly pointed to the painting behind them, the one of Sir Aaron lifting his staff above his head.
Oh. Ash hastily tried to mirror the pose. And then… Hero's chant? Ash stared blankly into the sea of faces staring back at him. What was it that they kept saying?
"The wave…" Ash began hesitantly. At both royals' encouraging expressions, he swallowed and tried again. "The wave is with me."
"And also with me," came the low hum of replies.
Suddenly, the whine and pop of fireworks started up outside. Ash turned to marvel at the colors bursting outside the wide windows. He might have remained enraptured, much like the rest of the audience was, if the voice hadn't returned.
I believed in you.
Ash whirled, but like before, he saw no one talking. Fireworks lighting up their happy faces, no one seemed to hear what he could.
You were my friend.
Ash suddenly felt sick. The faces around him were swimming in a swirl of colors, and his hands were going numb as he held the staff in a white-knuckled grip.
But you left us all to die. You betrayed us. How could you?
Something was happening. Ash could feel it now, how his fingers seemed glued to the staff. He couldn't shake himself free. The cold feeling was seeping up his arms, like ice traveling his veins. He stared down in horror as the top of the staff began to glow.
You coward. You murderer.
There was no denying it now. The gleam from before had brightened to a beacon so dazzling that it tore eyes away from the fireworks display. The staff was humming now, starting to shake in Ash's frozen grip.
You're no hero.
"Ash? Ash, what's going on?"
"I—I don't know! It's—"
"Drop it!"
"I can't!"
Both King and Princess tried to pry the staff from Ash's frozen hands. But it was shaking so violently now that it rattled free from their grips. The light was so blindingly white it seared the eyes. Ash ripped the staff away from them, certain it was going to erupt. Better for it to take his hands than the others.
"Get away!" Ash shouted.
I will stop you.
And then it did explode, but not in the way Ash expected. He was thrown backwards onto the dais steps as a beam of energy shot out of the end of the staff. It coalesced into a upright canidae shape, almost mistakably humanoid save for the ears and tail.
Then with a blink, the white light shimmered away, leaving a black-and blue-furred pokemon kneeling in front of them all. It lurched up with eyes still squeezed tightly shut.
Sir Aaron!
It whirled on the spot, its voice echoing startlingly through the minds of everyone present. Those in the audience who were nearest lurched backwards in fright. Many were grabbing at their ears, asking where the voice was coming from.
Ash could tell by how it whirled about, it had to be blind. He thought that maybe he could crawl safely out of range if he just managed to not make any noise. That was until it zeroed in on him laying where the staff had flung him. Even without eyes, it seemed to see Ash there. Just what kind of frightening creature was this? Ash especially didn't like how the air seemed to shiver around its paws.
I've found you.
To Be Continued…
Please Read and Review!
A special thanks to my new beta reader, HarunaRei. I know many of you guys were complaining that I needed one. And I personally love to have someone to share ideas with. :)
Just a heads up, Nanowrimo is coming up. So my fanfic scheduling will probably be affected as I try to spend all month writing my original novel. I apologize about this and promise to get right back on track come December.
Now comes the time to thank all those who reviewed last chapter. Thanks to birdsoffire, Shaveza, AshKetchumForever, and PXR90. I always love getting the feedback so thank you very much. I hope to see you all again next chapter!
Next time, Ash discovers Pikachu is missing. And he knows just who to blame.
Expect the next update this January/February. I have to push it back a little because of Nanowrimo. Hope you enjoyed! Please leave a review if you did. Love ya and see you next time~!