AN: Welcome to Galar Chronicles!
To those of you who have been following my other works, this series takes place in the same head-canon universe as the stories of My Name is Marcus. However, these stories will be less centered around Marcus, and will instead be written to explore some of my other personal head canons about the other cast members of the game, do a little world-building, and developing some of the other OC's I've introduced. Hope you enjoy!
"Eat and drink your fill, everyone! Tonight, it's on me!"
The gaggle of Galar's elite trainers let out a spirited hurrah at Gordie's words as they stared at the array of grilled and barbecued meats and vegetables that lay atop the scarlet-red table. It was a terribly uncommon occurrence for Circhester's Rock-Type Gym Leader to offer to pay for anyone's food other than his own, let alone an entire group the size of the one he'd taken to Bob's Your Uncle this evening. But spirits were high, and there was cause to celebrate.
A few weeks prior, Gordie's Coalossal managed to secure a clutch victory in a Gigantimax showdown against his mother's Lapras; a rematch he had long anticipated, and a victory he relished without abatement. Ever since then, Gordie had been riding on the wave of that success, channeling it forward into every battle he'd partaken in since and establishing an undefeated record for the season so far - Milo, and Nessa's type-advantages over his Pokemon weren't enough to shake his team's strength and resolve, and all the competition that had come from the minor circuit at that point went down without much of a fight in comparison.
Tonight's battle had been against none other than Raihan, a rival Gordie had been seeking to best for quite some time. Between his Flygon, Goodra, and Duraludon, Gordie knew that Raihan and his team would have the immediate advantage. In the days leading up to the showdown, he wasted no time and spared no effort in his training with his team to prepare for the match, planning for all of the weather manipulation and all of the brutal-yet-stylish draconic assaults that Raihan and his Pokemon were known for. By the end of the battle, it came down to Gigantimax Duraludon's Max Steelspike versus Gigantimax Coalossal's Max Quake.
Not many people were expecting the match to come down to such a thin wire. Even fewer expected Gordie to actually pull it off. But those that did were not disappointed.
Gordie was riding on Cloud Nine after that battle. Long had he and Raihan playfully bickered over which of them was the strongest Gym Leader in Galar, and while popular opinion often weighed in Raihan's favor, the outcome of this evening's showdown would no doubt make an argument in favor of Gordie one worth standing behind. Between this fact and the added win to his flawless streak, Gordie couldn't help but give into the urge to celebrate. So out from his gym and into the snow-covered streets of Circhester he went, taking an entourage of his closest friends and colleagues with him to his favorite bar and grill in town.
Raihan himself was the first to agree to tag along, and eagerly so - If losing to Gordie meant a free meal, who was he to refuse? Leon was also quick to accept the invitation with little hesitation; he, Gordie, and Raihan had a friendship that went back to their days taking the Gym Challenge together, and after the long day he'd put in managing the Battle Tower, a night out on the town sounded like a "champion time", to put it in his words. Piers took some convincing at first; it wasn't that he didn't enjoy Gordie and the others' company as much as it was the fact that rambunctious social interactions outside of concert venues made him uncomfortable, and this particular group was most certainly a rambunctious one. However, since Marnie had become Gym Leader, he'd found himself having to fend for himself for dinner more often than not. And while on most nights, a microwaved burrito and a modest plate of oven-baked pizza rolls would normally suffice for him, tonight just wasn't one of those nights. Milo was apprehensive at first; he cited his duties to the Turfield Farm as his excuse to try and decline, though everyone knew it to not be the truth. Being the newest addition to this friend-circle, he felt slightly insecure, and often found himself questioning his place among the group's dynamic. It was Raihan and Leon's insistence on Milo's attendance that convinced him to finally join in. With Milo, flattery could get you anywhere.
The group sat around a corner-booth at the far-end of the restaurant, with Gordie in the middle, Milo and Piers to his left, and Leon and Raihan to his right. The air was thick with the mouth-watering scents of gourmet meats of all shapes and sizes that loaded the tabletop before them.
"That was a spectacular battle from the both of you tonight", Leon chimed between bites of grilled steak and white rice. "I've gotta admit, I was feeling a bit jealous, not being able to join in on the fun!"
"Congrats again on another amazing victory, Gordie", Milo added with a smile."It was really nice of you to bring us out to celebrate, too!"
Raihan nodded as he chewed. "Gotta hand it to ya, man, you've been on a roll so far", Raihan began, his speech encumbered by the mouthful of food he continued to labor through. "I gotta admit, though, if I'd known I'd score free food from you just from losing to you, I'd've started throwing our matches sooner", he added in jest - while Raihan hated losing to anyone, he was typically a good sport about it to those he respected.
"Raihan, please", Piers groaned, a look of disgust replacing his usual disinterested visage, "quit talkin' with your mouth full…"
Raihan stared back at Piers with the look of a bewildered Yamper before swallowing the food in his mouth hard. "Sorry about that", he chuckled, "I'm just excited is all."
"Excitement ain't an excuse to be abandonin' your manners", Piers retorted, following his words with a short sip of water. "You're a Gym Leader, not a Greedent."
"Aw, lighten up, will ya?", Raihan replied with a nonchalant grin, a direct challenge to the annoyed scowl Piers was giving him.
"Ladies, please", Gordie interjected with a raising of his hands, his good mood reflected by the tone of his voice; tonight, he was really feeling like a celebrity, and nobody was going to take that away from him. "Tonight's not about you, it's about me", he continued with a wide and sassy grin. "We're partying it up my way tonight, and I say; less bickering, more stuffing our faces!"
"Here here!", Raihan agreed with vigor before taking another large forkful of meat to his maw and scarfing it down.
Piers shrugged, allowing the tension in his shoulders to relax as he picked up his chops sticks and took a small bite of his white rice.
"Now those are the wise words of someone who knows how to have a champion time!", Leon exclaimed before beginning to stuff his face.
Gordie chuckled. "They still letting you say that, Lee? Thought you would've had to retire that catchphrase since you lost the title and all."
"Nah, see, the new champion's catchphrase is showtime", Leon explained. "Doesn't have as much of a ring to it as champion time, if you ask me. But hey, if it means I don't have to worry about coming up with a new one myself, to each their own, right?"
Piers shook his head at Leon; whoever wrote this guy's dialogue had to be the same guy who picked out his wardrobe.
Gordie lifted his glasses off of the bridge of his nose so that they sat on his head; the steam from the food on his platter was causing the lenses to fog. "I kinda like showtime, personally", he replied. "It's short, sweet, catchy, cool-"
"And it's the kind of thing you don't have to worry about your kids getting bullied at school for saying", Raihan interrupted in jest.
"Raihan…!", Leon groaned amid a mouthful of food.
Raihan shrugged with a grin as he lowered a glass of water from his lips. "I'm just saying, man."
Gordie laughed at this interaction, nearly choking on the water in his mouth in the process. "He's got you pegged, Lee", he added, "champion time was always kinda weird."
Leon pouted as he raised a glass to his face and took a sip. "You're kinda weird…", he murmured quietly into his glass.
Gordie took another bite of steak, letting out a low moan as the flavors graced his taste buds - tonight's bounty was particularly impressive. "I'm just saying", he continued, "showtime; now that's the kind of catchphrase I'd be using if I were champion."
"Well with how you've been battling this season so far, Marcus had better watch out", Milo chimed, "or else showtime will be yours in no time!" He giggled to himself, proud of his impromptu rhyme scheme.
The others let out a brief chuckle; Milo's endearing and wholesome nature was a welcome addition to their group's otherwise-chaotic dynamic.
"I've still got a little ways to go before I'm ready to face the reigning champ again", Gordie replied with a breathy chortle. "If I want any of my fans to take a battle between me and a prodigal genius like him seriously, I've gotta prove that I can hold my own against his fiercest rivals first." His eyes darted over to his right, locking on to the golden shimmer of Leon's as he grinned wide. "How about it, Lee? You up for a battle?"
A unison "Ooooo" fell over the table.
"Looking to finally topple me yourself, huh?", Leon asked with a confident smirk. "Getting a little big for our britches, are we, Gordie?"
"Maybe", Gordie replied, slapping his gut with the palm of his hand. "Or maybe this emperor's just ready for a new set of clothes."
"Oh, an emperor, are you?", Leon chuckled.
"Don't give me that", Gordie fired back, his grin still plastered to his face. "So what if I've never beaten you, I'd never beaten Raihan before tonight, either. The way I see it, this is the Year of the Rock!", he exclaimed dramatically. "I'm a landslide, Leon, and I can't be stopped!"
Gordie's dramatic bravado was enough to get a smirk out of everyone. Even Piers couldn't help but find this ego-measuring contest amusing.
Leon continued to laugh as Gordie continued to press.
"Come on Lee, what's the matter?", Gordie continued. "Losing your precious title hasn't made you afraid of Little Ol' Gordie now, has it?"
Leon composed himself enough to look Gordie in the eye again. "Alright then, Mister-Champion-Emperor-Landslide Gordie, sir", he finally replied, prompting a fit of laughter from Milo and Raihan and nearly causing Piers to spit out his water in an uncharacteristic bout of giggling. "Name a time and a place, and I'll be there."
The two long-time friends and rivals continued to stare each other down with confident ferocity. Both of them were already imagining the battle ahead in their minds, both preparing to give the other the fight of their lives as the cheers of the roaring crowd echoed across their imaginations for what was, in their heads, a battle unlike anything Galar had ever seen. The anticipation at the table was building at the mere thought of a showdown between these two.
"Mr. Gordie, Mr. Gordie!"
Gordie and Leon's staring contest was interrupted by a voice calling out across the restaurant. Gordie turned left towards the source and saw a man wearing thick cargo pants, a large leather bomber-jacket, and what looked like a fur-lined pilot's cap. The man began his approach through the bustling restaurant crowd towards the table.
Gordie smirked. This wasn't how he was used to his fans looking, nor was this how he was used to meeting them. Under normal circumstances, he might've tried to avoid the encounter altogether, as he preferred to limit such contact for his pre-game and post-game meet-and-greets. Tonight, however, he felt more than willing to make an exception. After all, he was a rising star among the elite of Galar's trainers, and was riding the fast-track to defeating the champion. He felt like the most important person alive. And if a fan was willing to go out of their way just to tell him how spectacular he was, what kind of celebrity would he be to turn them away on a night like tonight?
"Hold that thought, will you?", Gordie said to Leon as he stood up from his seat at the booth, preparing to meet this fan half-way. Rather than waiting for everyone around him to move out of his way, Gordie allowed himself to slide below the tabletop, taking a slow and careful saunter as he crouched and folded himself backward at the waistline. Everyone at the table cheered as he limboed beneath the table towards the open walkway. Despite his size, Gordie remained remarkably limber; all those years of gymnastics his mother had forced him to take part in certainly seemed to be paying off nowadays.
He rose to normal height with a groan at the other end of the table, his ankles and calves still aching from all of his signature backflips that he'd done during the match earlier that night. "I'll be right back", he said to the group as he lowered his shades back over his eyes. "My adoring public awaits."
"Go get 'em, stud!", Raihan shouted.
Gordie waved back from over his shoulder as he sauntered forward.
The man quickly looked Gordie up and down as the Gym Leader walked towards him. "Oh, good, it is you!", he exclaimed as he began digging into a satchel that hung over his shoulder. "I've got something for you! I know it's… somewhere in here…"
Upon closer inspection of the man, Gordie noticed a badge pinned to the uppermost left pocket of his jacket. He raised a brow. "You're with the Galar Post Office?"
"Yessir!", the man replied with gusto as he continued his desperate rumudge. "Ah!", he suddenly exclaimed, reaching deeper into the satchel. "Here it is!" From the bag, he pulled a small cardboard box. Taped to the top of the box was an envelope. He handed the package to Gordie with a smile. "Special delivery!"
Gordie stared at the package with visible perplexion. He'd never heard of a postal worker seeking out a package's recipient for a hand-delivery before. "Why didn't you just leave it at my place?", he asked. "My apartment's right down the road."
The man shook his head. "The sender made it very clear; "to be delivered to Gordie personally, his eyes only.""
Gordie found this statement a bit odd, but quickly shrugged it off before taking the package into his hands. "Thanks", he said nonchalantly. "What do I owe you?"
The man smiled, shaking his hands between the two of them. "Oh, not a thing! The sender paid for everything already, so you're all set."
"Is that so?", Gordie asked with a smirk. "In that case…" He grabbed his wallet from his back pants pocket and proceeded to pull out 2,000 Pokedollars. "For your trouble", he said as he handed the man the money.
The man took the gracious offer into his palm. The money felt a little damp, presumably from Gordie's sweat. He didn't seem to mind, though; money was money. "Goodness, th-thank you!" he exclaimed with a smile. "You have a great night, Mr. Gordie, sir", he added as he started to make his exit, "and congrats on an amazing battle tonight!"
Those parting words made Gordie grin a little wider; it was good to be king. Suddenly, however, he was left standing by himself, holding this mysterious package. As he made his way back towards the others at his table, he began pondering its origins - Where did it come from? Who sent it? Why?
"Ooooh, looky looky, guys", Raihan teased at Gordie, 'the big bad landslide got himself a present from his biggest fan!"
"Sod off, Raihan", Gordie snickered, "that was the postman."
"Huh? I didn't know the Galar Post Office did hand-deliveries", Milo said.
"Usually, they don't. Whoever sent that must've put in a special word to have it done", Leon added.
Gordie nodded. "Yeah, that's what the guy said."
"Well?", Raihan interjected. "Don't keep us in suspense, who's it from?"
Gordie scrutinized the package in search of a shipping label. "I don't know…", he answered, "...there doesn't seem to be a return address anywhere on the-"
His eyes were suddenly drawn to the envelope taped to the top of the box. More specifically, to the cursive handwritten message written above the top fold; "To Gordie". His eyes widened in astonishment, his throat suddenly going dry. He recognized that handwriting all too well.
"...It's from my mother."
Raihan's brow raised. "Melony sent you that?", he asked. "How do you know?"
Gordie rotated the box so that the envelope faced the table. "I'd never forget this handwriting in a million years."
"Odd", Leon pondered. "I didn't realize you guys were on talking terms again-"
"We're not", Gordie answered gruffly, giving barely enough time for Leon to finish his statement. A bitter expression overcame his previously jolly visage.
"Oh… well…" Leon fumbled through his thoughts as he struggled to find the most appropriate direction to take this conversation. "...what do you think she wants?"
Gordie let the package fall from his hands to the edge of the table with a light thud. "Don't know, don't care."
"What? You're not even going to open it?", Milo asked. "Aren't you curious about-"
"No", Gordie interrupted, his fist tensed lightly and his jaw clenched. "Why would I be curious, huh? After everything she's said to me and everything she's done to belittle and berate me, why should I care?" Gordie made a conscious effort to focus in on his breathing as he spoke - it was all he could do to keep from fuming. "Tonight is my night, and I'm not about to let whatever that woman has to say get under my skin."
The table fell silent as everyone sank in their seats. Gordie was right in at least one respect; tonight was supposed to be a night to celebrate. And out of respect for that fact, everyone seemed to unanimously agree through their wordless exchanges of awkward eye-contact that they didn't want to do anything to press this topic any further.
All except for one, that is…
"That woman is still your mum", Piers finally said, breaking the silence. His eyes were still fixed nonchalantly to his plate as he continued to eat. "She's your family."
Gordie lifted his shades back onto the top of his head and shot Piers a glare, as if in disbelief that he was still edging this conversation onward. "I didn't ask for her to be my family", he seethed.
"But she asked for you", Piers fired back, now meeting Gordie's leer head-on with his own cold green-eyed stare. "You wouldn't be here today if she didn't." He gestured to the package on the table. "She could be asking for you right now, even."
"Why are you insisting on this, Piers?", Gordie growled, doing all in his power to keep his voice from evolving into a roar. "You know what all that woman's put me through."
Piers took a small sip of water. "Believe me, if she were one o' those Type-A toxic personalities you hear about in horror stories on the web, I'd tell ya to toss that package out to the curb n' forget about her." He set the glass down on the table, maintaining his eye-contact. "But she cares about ya, Gordie. Despite all your bickerin', she still wants to try n' make things work. You can deny it all ya want, but I know you want to, too."
Something gave in Gordie's mind. "You think I haven't tried!?", he shouted. "Every time I do, it just turns into another argument! She's always got something to say to try and take me down a peg!"
"N' I'm sure the venom o' your words is equally as painful to her", Piers replied. "But when people who care 'bout each other fight, they fix it. N' if they can't fix it in one try, then they try again. N' they keep tryin' 'til they get it right."
Gordie's fist struck the table, causing all the platters and silverware to shudder. Raihan, Leon, and Milo all flinched at the sudden noise.
"How long you think I've been trying now, huh!? She can't be reasoned with!", he yelled. "You've never had to deal with a woman like that; breathing down your neck, mapping out your whole life for you, poking and prodding you for everything you do that she sees as a mistake. Don't you dare try and pretend to me that you get it, because you don't!"
A nervous energy fell over the table as Gordie scowled at Piers, who looked back up at him with the closest thing to a contemptful glare anyone had ever seen from him.
"Yeah… guess I don't, do I?"
Gordie was overcome with immediate remorse at the realization of the line he'd just crossed; he knew where Piers came from, and compared to that, he had no room to complain. "Piers, I… I'm sorry", Gordie said almost frantically, his roaring voice reduced to almost that of a whimper. "I never should've brought any of it up, I…"
Piers let out a long sigh. "Gordie, look; I get that things are tense 'tween you n' your mum right now. All I'm sayin' is that it ain't nothin' that can't be mended." He sank back into his seat, looking wistfully past the fluorescent lights hanging from the ceiling. "When I was a tyke, I used to complain to my mum 'bout everythin'. Petty stuff, mostly; 'bout curfew bein' too early, 'bout my allowance bein' too small, that sorta thing." He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "What I'd give to have five minutes with her just to tell her how sorry I was for all that…"
Gordie and company were left bereft of words. They knew about the kind of life Piers had come from, and they knew that he typically never talked about it. When he did, everyone knew better than to try and add anything to it; nobody wanted their lack of personal experience on the matter to come off as insulting.
"I know both of you are carryin' a lot o' guilt 'bout everythin' that's gone down 'tween the two o' ya", Piers continued, "n' I know that probably makes tryin' to hash it all out kinda tricky. But Time, she's cruel… the future ain't guaranteed, Gordie. Tonight, ya might say "eh, maybe I'll call her t'morrow", but if t'morrow never comes, you're gonna carry that weight for the rest o' your life."
Gordie swallowed hard at the thought as he pictured his mother's smile in his head; loving, sweet, and nurturing - sometimes deceptive, but exactly what it looked like more often than not. He knew the truth already; he really did care about her, and he really did want to be able to patch things up between the two of them. Because at his core, despite whatever he says and whatever he wants people to believe about his relationship with Melony, Gordie is, and always will be, a mama's boy.
"Fine", he conceded, taking the package back into his hands. "I'll open this when I get back to my place later tonight." He looked upon the box with a tinge of nervous anticipation. "Maybe it's time I heard her out again…"
Piers nodded gently, taking another sip of water.
Raihan grinned, fed up with the awkward silences; he came out to party, and he wanted to get back on track. "In the meantime, we got chow to put down", he said, gesturing to the abundance of food on the table.
"Yeah", Gordie nodded with a faint smile as he looked up towards the others. He was perplexed to find Leon and Milo still sitting somewhat nervously, hardly daring to move; no doubt, the resulting aftermath of his verbal bout with Piers. "Come on, fellas, what's with the glum looks?", he asked, a chipperness returning to his tone. "Did we already forget about what time it is?" He sauntered over to Leon's side with a grin. "Leon, what time is it?"
Leon sighed with a smirk; he knew what was coming, it wasn't the first time. "Are you really gonna make me do this again?"
"Come on, buddy, I left my watch at home", Gordie pressed, "just tell me what time it is."
Milo reached for his phone. "Well, I've got my phone on me, I can-"
Piers placed a gentle hand on the oblivious Grass-Type Gym Leader's shoulder as he shook his head and smirked.
Leon sighed again. "...it's champion time…", he mumbled.
"I'm sorry, could you say again?", Gordie asked sarcastically, placing a hand to his ear, "I didn't quite catch that."
"It's champion time…", Leon repeated, a little louder.
"Nope, still didn't hear you."
"It's Champion Time."
"Come on, Lee, he says he didn't hear you!", Raihan shouted, goading Leon on even further.
"IT'S CHAMPION TIME!", Leon finally yelled, his voice nearly cracking in the process.
The former-champion's bellowing voice prompted a round of cheers and applause, not just from their table, but from everyone in the restaurant who heard it. Leon recoiled in embarrassment, his tan face tinted with a subtle hint of red as he sank into his seat.
"Yes, thank you!", Gordie cheered with a jaunty laugh. "Now the party can resume!"
. . .
On late nights like tonight, Gordie would often picture his mother scolding him for how he was acting. He wasn't sure why, but it was as if he could hear her in his head telling him off for everything he was doing. "You need to take better care of yourself", he'd picture her say. "You shouldn't be out so late with your friends, you're gonna wear yourself down and catch a cold. Are you really going out dressed like that? It's freezing outside, put some longer pants on." Often enough, he'd just brush these thoughts off; he was a grown man now, with his own house, his own gym, and his own legacy. He could take care of himself. As the breath of Circhester's frigid chill nipped at his bare knee-caps, however, he began to think that maybe she had a point about not wearing shorts so often.
He sighed as he walked, his hot breath turning into a fine white vapor in the cold evening air in front of him. Piers was right; he had some stuff to sort through.
But where to even start?
Gordie remembered it all as if it happened yesterday, the feud that set him and Melony on this long road of constant conflict. His days as a boy spent in gymnastics class against his will were tedious and annoying, and all the time she spent trying to get him to change his eating habits and lose weight felt intrusive and unkind. However, the true straw to break the Camerupt's back surrounded their disagreement over his future as a Pokemon trainer.
. . .
As the oldest of five, it was Gordie's birthright (according to Melony) that he be the one to succeed her as the Circhester Gym's leader. Henceforth, she had begun teaching him and honing his battling skills from an early age, shaping him towards becoming an Ice-Type trainer worthy of leading the Gym in her stead. There was just one problem with her plan; Gordie didn't really resonate with Ice-Types.
It wasn't from lack of trying on either party's part; Gordie certainly did his best to try to get acquainted with his Pokemon at the time, and his team tried to understand his thought-process and personality on the battlefield. However, Gordie had always just been too headstrong and too thick-headed to work with the dainty and more sophisticated Pokemon his mother had selected for him. His mother's criticisms of his developing battle-style didn't help much either, and would often leave him feeling too unrefined and inadequate to ever be capable of becoming a trainer in the first place. It wasn't until he met his Coalossal, who at the time was a Rolycoly, that he came to the realization that he wasn't the problem. As he was, he was already more than capable of becoming a competent trainer. He didn't have to change himself to fit into his mother's plan. Or rather, he couldn't. He couldn't and he shouldn't.
Soon thereafter, he told his mom about his plan to take the Gym Challenge and search himself for who he was meant to be as a trainer. Many doors were slammed before his departure that day, some of which he thought might never be opened again.
Gordie didn't speak to his mother again until his return to Circhester for his sixth badge. There, the two got into another heated debate; Melony went on and on about how disappointed she was that her oldest son would disrespect their family legacy by forsaking her teachings and becoming a Rock-Type specialist, while Gordie yelled back about how insufferable of a parent she was and how bad he felt for his four younger siblings. At one point, he called her intolerable, citing it as the reason why his dad walked out on her.
He was promptly met with a smack across the face.
Melony was immediately regretful; in all her life, she'd never laid a hand on anyone like that, not even out of whatever instinct compelled her to do so at that time. She apologized over and over, pleaded with Gordie to forgive her. But the damage had been done, and he had no more words to spare for her. No more griping; only their battling tactics would do the talking from that point onward.
Gordie won that battle. By all rights the gym itself was his to take. However, he refused it outright, claiming that he'd rather pave a path for himself than ever have to accept another forced hand-me-down of any kind from Melony ever again.
Eventually, word of this family feud spread across Galar, eventually reaching the ears of then-Chairman Rose, who approached Gordie and offered to build a second gym atop another power spot that had recently been identified within Circhester's city limits. The gym would be all his, and he would be acting as its Gym Leader. Was this an attempt to divide the city in order to stir drama around the family and acquire more revenue by forcing a mother and her estranged son to battle one another for profit? More than likely. Regardless, Gordie didn't hesitate to accept Rose's offer. Thus, the public downward spiral of Gordie and Melony's relationship began, and continued to persist for years to come.
. . .
As Gordie continued on his solitary procession towards home, he couldn't help but wonder about the intent behind the package he held under his arm; was this a door worth opening, or would it just slam in his face like all the others? Only time would tell.
. . .
Gordie locked the apartment door behind him as he stepped inside, kicking his shoes off and hanging his jacket on a coat hook on the door before placing the package on the kitchen counter nearby. His apartment was fairly standard as far as apartments went - a one-bedroom/one bathroom with a tan-carpeted living room that was visible from the quaint kitchen near the door. It was a humble abode for someone of Gordie's status, but it served a traveling bachelor like him well.
He stared at the package on the island countertop for a long time, focusing on the envelope taped upon its surface. He knew Piers was right; he knew he had to open it. But with how well he and Melony's attempts at reconciliation had gone in the past, he was apprehensive to say the least. He couldn't resolve himself enough to face the task at hand, instead choosing to turn towards the fridge; if he was going to do this, he needed a stiff drink in him first.
Upon opening the refrigerator door, he was greeted by a small white creature sitting inside, staring wide-eyed back up at him as if it had been caught in an act and was trying to compose an excuse for itself.
"Snom?", Gordie called. "What're you doing in there, buddy?"
"Snom, snom, snom!", the tiny ice-bug Pokemon chimed back as it remained fixed in its position next to a carton of milk and a half-eaten wheel of cheese.
Gordie chuckled. "Needed a midnight snack, did you?", he asked, taking the creature into his hand and placing him upon his shoulder. "Guess you take after me in more ways than one, huh?"
Snom was the first Pokemon Gordie ever caught by himself. While he wasn't able to develop a close kinship with any of the Ice-Type Pokemon his mother had him working with as a child, Snom was the exception. Despite never using him in a battle in any real capacity, Snom was one of Gordie's oldest and best friends, even traveling by his side for moral support during Gordie's run in the Gym Challenge. Snom was never much of a fighter, preferring instead to loaf around and eat anything and everything in front of him. So when Gordie inevitably decided to shift his focus towards Rock-Type specialization, the transition was a mutual one; Gordie got to spend more time training and battling with the fighters he resonated with, and Snom got to stay at home and be lazy, just like he always wanted.
"Snom! Snom, snom! Snom snom!"
"What?", he asked, noticing his small Pokemon's eyes drifting back towards the open fridge. "Oooh, you want the rest of that cheese?"
"Snom! Snom!"
"Alright, alright", Gordie chortled, "just keep it down, will ya? You're gonna wake the neighbors again." He placed Snom on the island countertop before grabbing a plate from one of the hanging cabinets and the remaining cheese wheel from the fridge. He put the cheese on top of the plate, and the plate down in front of Snom, who delighted in the opportunity to finish his midnight snack. "Try to keep it all on the platter this time, will you? I don't feel like cleaning up one of your messes at this hour."
"Snom!", the frost-bug cheered as he began ravenously munching away at his cheese.
With his Pokemon's hunger being satiated, Gordie returned his attention to the package. With a deep breath, he ripped the envelope from the tape that held it to the box, taking it into his hands.
I guess there's no harm in reading the letter, at least, he thought to himself. Worst-case, we just go back to not talking to each other again…
Deep down, he was truly hoping that wouldn't be the case. Though he felt that he needed to prepare for it, nonetheless.
With his thumb, he tore into the seal of the top lip of the envelope, rendering it opened wide as he removed a letter from within. Another deep breath as he braced himself for the worst.
His eyes widened; the tone of the letter certainly wasn't what he was expecting.
. . .
My sweet Gordie,
I hope you've been well; eating well, battling well, living well, the whole shebang. You're probably wondering why I've sent you this package. I know that my attempts to talk to you have been scarce, especially over writing. You probably think I'm aging myself; who sends letters anymore, right? Why go through all the trouble when I could've just tried calling or sending a text? Well for one, given the hostility we had towards one another in our last rematch (congratulations on the win, by the way!), I imagine that getting you to answer me over the phone is probably out of the question. If nothing else, I thought that maybe sending you a hand-written letter and a package would at least intrigue you enough to hear me out. Second, I actually don't have any other means of communicating right now… unfortunately, there's not much reception out where I'm at right now.
Greetings from the Crown Tundra! I guess maybe I could've opened with that, huh?
I've been hearing so many interesting rumors about this place over the years, and have finally mustered the courage to venture south and see what all the hullabaloo is about. It's absolutely breathtaking, Gordie, you won't find a more scenic place anywhere else in Galar. And the Pokemon! So many incredible Pokemon of all shapes and sizes, the likes of which I've never seen in all my years! There are a lot of Pokemon out here that I think you'd like, too, Gordie; lots of big and strong-looking Rock-Types, some of which were even thought to have been long-extinct! Which brings me to the point of this telegraph…
Take a moment now to open the package this letter was attached to, and please don't continue reading until you've done so. I know this must seem a little strange, but trust me; it'll all make sense soon.
. . .
Now Gordie was truly perplexed. There wasn't an ounce of the hostility and smarm he was expecting in the letter. Though, it was still too soon for him to get his hopes up. As far as he was concerned, it could go either way at any moment. The true deciding factor, however, sat within the box on the counter.
Letting out another sigh, Gordie decided to heed his mother's instructions. He placed the note on the table and walked over to the living room table before returning with a small pocket knife. Snom looked up for a brief moment with a faint curiosity before quickly returning to gorging himself on cheese. Gordie flipped the blade open and slid it beneath the layer of tape that sealed the box shut. With a single swift motion, he cut the adhesive cleanly in twain. With the box now open, he placed the knife on the countertop and pushed the flaps of the box aside.
He didn't know exactly what to expect, but what he found certainly surprised him. He'd heard of people sending souvenirs from their trips back home. In this case, Gordie was expecting some silly tourist-trap T-shirt, maybe a rock his mother would send him as either a joke or out of blatant misunderstanding of his interests. But a Pokeball?
"She didn't even think to tell me whether or not I could open this indoors?", he thought aloud as he gripped the Pokeball in his hand, prompting Snom to look up again and raise a curious brow. The last thing Gordie needed at this late in the night was to release a colossal Pokemon into his apartment and cause the building to collapse around him. But it was too dark and too cold outside for him to want to venture outwards once more. He shrugged. "Eh, whatever. I'm here for a good life, not a long one."
With a gentle toss into the air, the ball brought forth a bright light, giving form to a bright-eyed light-blue quadruped.
"...Mau…?"
Gordie hadn't the slightest idea what sort of Pokemon now stood before him. In all of his travels to the various corners of Galar and all of his encounters with the multitude of species inhabiting the region, not once had he ever seen anything like this one before. All he knew as he stared back into its curious deep-blue eyes was that it was perhaps one of the most endearing creatures he had ever laid eyes on. The love he felt for it was immense and immediate.
"Well who are you, little guy?", Gordie asked in a tender voice.
The Pokemon's eyes perked up and began to glimmer with the reflection of the iridescent sail-like structures that protruded from its head. "Amau!", the young creature exclaimed with an echoing chime.
Gordie recoiled in surprise from the unanticipated volume of the creature. "Shh", he hushed gently with a finger resting perpendicular over his lips. "We don't wanna wake up the neighbors", he continued with a gentle smirk, "they really don't like being disturbed at this hour."
The Pokemon gave curious pause as it took in Gordie's words before nodding in understanding.
Gordie knelt down next to the Pokemon and smiled. "You're a beautiful thing, aren't you?", he remarked as he gently rubbed its head and down the length of its long neck, to its loving appreciation. "I'm Gordie, good to meet you."
"Snom, snom!", Snom chimed from the countertop, his face amess with small cheese crumbs.
"That's Snom", Gordie tittered, gesturing to the hungry ice-bug.
The long-necked Pokemon smiled brightly as it made its way over to the counter, extending its neck over the countertop and indulging itself in some of the cheese left over on the platter. To Gordie's surprise, Snom was actually willing to share in his snacking; a rare gesture, one that he often never reserved for anyone, not even Gordie.
Gordie chuckled. "Got a bit of an appetite, do ya?", he commented aloud to himself. "You'll fit in just fine here…"
With this unexpected introduction out of the way, Gordie returned to the letter, taking it into his hands and returning its focus to its text. He couldn't help but smile as he continued to read.
. . .
This little one's name is Amaura! Isn't she just the sweetest? I found her on one of my strolls across the frozen hillside of the northern tundra. She's a real rarity, in more ways than one; her species was said to have lived hundreds of millions of years ago before going extinct. Until recently, it was thought that only fossil restoration efforts could bring these beautiful Pokemon back into our world, and yet I found this one roaming freely!
And then there's her typing; Rock/Ice-Type! Can you believe it? I'd never even heard of such a thing until I found her! Apparently, this dual typing is unique to her and her evolution line. Needless to say, I thought of us immediately when I came across her.
. . .
Gordie steeled himself as he began to feel the onset of his own waterworks; he knew now the direction this letter was taking. Sappy it is, he thought to himself with a small smirk as he continued to read.
. . .
We've long had our differences, Gordie. Our clashes have been fierce, our battles have been vicious, and our disputes have been hurtful. And as much as I'm vocal about how hurt our feud has left me, I never really stopped to think about what all I must have done to hurt you. I've even found myself thinking about how nice it would be if another trainer gave you a right thrashing, just to knock you down a few pegs… what a terrible thought for a mother to have about her own child.
I'm so sorry, Gordie.
. . .
She was sorry. It was a notion she'd always danced around during their previous attempts at reconciling their differences, but she'd never before come right out and said it, let alone as sincerely as she had written for him this time around. His right hand began to tremble slightly as he read on.
. . .
The fact is, I've been selfish. For so long now, I've felt so personally attacked by your decision to become a Rock-Type trainer, I thought that you needed to be taught some kind of a lesson. But I know now that there was never a lesson to be learned to begin with. I realize now that your decision not to follow in my footsteps as an Ice-Type trainer was yours to make. It always has been, and I have no right to try and talk you down from it. You are your own person, paving your own path and following your own passions, and I couldn't be more proud of you and everything you do.
We've both said and done things to get under one another's skin over the years, Gordie, and frankly, I can't bear it anymore. Despite our differences, you are my son; my beautiful boy, my pride and joy. And while I may not always agree with the decisions you make, I will learn to be better at accepting them. And if that means being first in line to all of your autograph signings, sitting front-row and cheering louder than everyone else at all of your matches, and buying any and all of your merchandise, then I will happily do all of the above, like I always should have been. Because above all else, I want you to be happy, and I will support any choice you make that sets you on the road to the happiness you deserve.
. . .
Gordie lifted his shades from the above the bridge of his nose, wiping a tear from his eye. Then another, and another after that. He continued.
. . .
I miss you, Gordie. We all do. Your siblings tell me all the time about how amazing they think you are, and are rooting for the day that you become champion of the region (to be truthful, I think they're rooting more for you than they are for me whenever the two of us face off!) And while we all know that you're busy making a name for yourself as a trainer, we hope that you won't be a stranger. As you find yourself training and taking care of little Amaura here, I hope you'll think of us every so often. Give us a call, send us a text, surprise us with a visit, or hunker down and write a letter of your own. Whatever you're comfortable with, just know that the door is always open for you, my son.
I want to be better for you, Gordie. And so I'm going to make you a promise right now that I will strive to be the kind of mother that you deserve, the kind that I always should have been to you. I know that I'm a stubborn woman, but I want to learn to understand you. You are my pride and joy, and I love you so much. Never forget that.
Written with love, your biggest fan,
Mom
. . .
Gordie placed the letter down on the living room table with a soft sniffle; how was it that he always found himself crying whenever he and his mom started talking again? Only this time, however, he smiled amidst the tears. Every word she had written for him rang true to him, he felt exactly the same - he was sorry, he missed her, he wanted to make things work.
Maybe there's room for a door to hang open again…
The sound of the ivory platter clambering against the countertop brought Gordie back to his senses. He looked over to see Amaura resting the full weight of her head on the plate as she munched away at what little morsels of cheese remained, the weight of her head causing the plate to tip sideways and nearly send Snom catapulting off of it. Snom seemed less than amused; no doubt, this would be the last time he ever shared his food with anyone.
Gordie chuckled softly. Things were certainly going to get a little livelier around here now that Amaura was staying with them.
Rock/Ice-Type, huh? That's pretty exciting… awfully thoughtful, too...
He smirked to himself as he drew his phone from his front pants pocket and tapping the touch screen to life. A few clicks later, he had the phone to his ear, waiting to see if his call would actually go through.
Despite all of their past transgressions, he still had Melony on speed-dial.
To no shock whatsoever, his call was sent immediately to her voicemail. Figures, he thought to himself, she must still be out there…
He only had a few seconds to try and come up with a coherent message to leave her. He wanted to make it count.
"Hey, uh… it's Gordie… uh, just thought maybe I'd check in with my biggest fan", he chuckled awkwardly. "...Listen, uh… gimme a call when you're back in the area… I think we've got some stuff to sort out… Uh, stay safe out there, and all… not that you'll even be getting this message until you're already back in the area, but… y-you know what I mean."
He could feel the heat building in his cheeks as continued tripping on his words. It was time to wrap this up before he became an unsalvageable stuttering mess.
"A-alright… hope I hear from you soon, I…"
He paused, hanging on the three words he wanted to say.
"...I love you."
AN: Greetings from the Crown Tundra! I hope everyone is enjoying the new expansion as much as I am. With what spare time I've had over the past week, I started working on an idea where characters visiting the Tundra write back home. I've got a few more of these planned, and will try to release them in regular intervals over the next few weeks.
As soon as I learned that Amaura and Aurorus were added into Sword and Shield, I knew I had a story worth working with. The source of the tension between Gordie and Melony has long been speculated by the community, and I'm really glad I finally have an excuse to write about my take on the issue. Hope I was able to do it and their reconciliation some justice.
As I said before, I'm going to try to continue publishing content regularly over the next few weeks. I just started a new job, and my sleep schedule's been thrown off pretty significantly, so I apologize if uploads are slow at first.
I have four more of these one-shots in the works right now. However, if you have any ideas for a character that should receive a letter from the Tundra, let me know in a PM! Obviously, it doesn't have to be from someone canonically in the Tundra during the expansion, but their reason for being out there in the first place should be a believable one (i.e., Melony likes the cold). I can't guarantee that I'll actually be able to write any of the suggested stories I receive, but I'm still curious to hear everyone's own thoughts on the topic.
As always, thank you all so much for the support! I'm looking forward to diving into this new angle of story-telling!
Marnie's letter is next!