Title: Rider

Disclaimer: Pokemon, not mine etc blah blah.

About: Was thinking about the pokemon economy and Blackthorn. There would have to be little villages and towns tucke dup in the mountains- there always are. Mining towns, for ores or gems... Or maybe another staple of the pokemon world? I've always thought berries where for people to; gives the world more variety. Anyway, I was considering just how these little towns would get supplies, and it neatly dove-tailed with a 'fic idea I've been toying with. You'll probably see more of Jo; I have heaps of shorts about her saved everywhere, but not enough to publish. Anyway, musings on small towns and itinerant 'delivery men'.

"Ho! Rider on the trail!"

In fits and starts, people and pokemon all around the valley straightened and peered down the dusty, curved track that led into the tiny village. This late in the season it was rare to have visitors; not many would dare brave the harsh and unforgiving conditions of the Blackthorn Ranges. Late summer sun sent deceptive heat shimmers rippling through the air, but it was still possible to see a blurry red and cream figure moving briskly towards them.

The villagers drifted from their tasks, setting down gathering baskets and laying down timber and tools. By the time the figure had resolved into a young woman mounted on a rapidash, almost all of the close knit community was gathered in the centre of the village. A gentle U-shaped curve of houses bracketed the only entry way into Chesto valley, with a wide berry tree shading the centre of the beaten earth square.

"Ho, Chesto Valley! Got a shipment for ya!"

Waving cheerfully, a slim young woman vaulted from the back of her rapidash, gesturing to the pack train of tauros following closely behind her. Cherry flames flickering quietly, the fire-horse nudged his trainer with his nose and pranced forwards a few steps, arching his neck proudly. There where suitably admiring whispers from the younger women in the crowd, but the adults were more interested in the goods that the Rider had brought with her.

"Got some more drying racks for you, most of the stuff on your list and a few extras. Rogan sent some hay down as well for your stock; been a real dry summer."

There where approving murmurs from the older folk; clearing his throat gruffly, the head man walked up to the rider. Moving with languid, easy grace, the young woman was gathering up the leads on the tauros, and leading them over to the wide watering trough set just to the side of the track. A few young men moved forward and took them from her, all careful to let the tauros only have a quick drink as too much water in thirsty bellies could tie them up in colic.

"Got some paperwork for me, Missy Rider?"

Jo didn't flinch at the 'missy' anymore, as nearly six months now spent in tiny villages like Chesto had made her prickly temper back down. Twitching her mouth into a smile, she gave a loose limbed shrug and leant up against her rapidash, who lipped idly at her dusty, pale brown hair. Tall and solid like so many of his folk, Brent watched her with calm eyes as she tugged a thick wad of paper from one of several pouches strapped to her body. Flicking it out, Jo considered the printed documents for a moment.

"Chesto, Chesto... Ah! Here we are."

Shuffling the papers about, the Rider neatly folded the ones she didn't need back into her pouch, and pulled a small electronic scanner unit out at the same time. Handing the headman his copy to pursue, she moved over to the tauros, who had been staked out in the shade of the small copse of trees on the right hand side of the of houses.

Fiddling with the scanner, she punched buttons and scribbled on the touch screen until she finally reached the menu she needed. Flicking her eyes away from the screen, she spared a smile for the boy with wicked eyes looking her over, and turned back to the Headman, who was scratching at his thick beard as he carefully read through the print-out.

"Freeze dried jerky, whet stones, sewing needles... Rider, who put this order through?"

Jo frowned and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, turning away from the gently lowing tauros. The bull-type pokemon where good for hauling goods long distance, and she was making sure that none of their load had shifted or injured them since her last check.

"Huh. Lesse..."

Tapping at her scanner with an authoritative air, she scanned through the data listed for Chesto Valley. When Rogan, head of the Riders, had sent her out on this circuit he'd warned her of trouble with this particular village. The berries the village produced where in high demand not only from trainers but gourmet chefs, and keeping the Chesto community happy and running smoothly was a high priority. Their employers in particular had put stress on the latter, and the hard look in the headman's eye was making Jo more than a little nervous.

"It's listed as being put in by George, the Rider who last did your circuit , on the authority of Trammel. That any one you know, Headman..."

Shooting her an unamused look, the taller man grunted and eyed off the tauros again.

"Brent. Must been... oh, almost four months ago George last went through. You say Trammel did the ordering?"

Though she was loathe to let him have the expensive scanner, Jo turned it and with the push of a few buttons had the pertinent data high lighted.

"As you can see here, it was signed for by Trammel, who claimed to be the authority at the time."

Mouth tightening to a grim slash, Brent frowned hard and stared at the papers in his thick fist. Tense and ready for trouble, Jo eased closer to rapidash, and the pokeballs strapped to her riding gear on his broad back. Fiddling with the scanner, Jo reviewed the list again. It was mostly standard goods; perishables, new clothing, harvesting gear. There were a few oddities, but when she'd gone to the warehouse to pick up her next delivery she'd been more interested in just getting the hell out of there and away from a particularly grabby Silph Co employee.

"Huh. Well, we ain't be needn' haffa this, Rider."

Toying the straps on her sturdy vest, Jo heaved a sigh and leant up against her rapidash, projecting an air of nonchalance, mind churning. There was standard procedure for this, of course, but Rogan's warning thrummed ominously through her thoughts. She'd have to tread carefully.

"Well, Head-man Brent, you've been charged nothing beyond the deposit and half the transport fees just yet. Under standard procedures, I'm authorised to take back the goods you no longer want, and offer half price delivery on those you want in return."

The crowd of villagers muttered and turned to one another, clearly unhappy with the offer, and Jo eased her pokeballs down off the saddle and around her hips. She eyed off the tauros, wondering whether it was worth the reprimand she'd earn to just cut her losses and get the hell out of Chesto Valley. The Rider didn't like the way the tough-looking pokemon where sidling closer to their owners, or the dark and unsettling glares being sent her way. But Headman Brent had yet to reply.

"Half-price, Rider? Why ye be offering half-price on the goods we never got in the first place?"

Jo eased away from rapidash, who was living up to his nickname; snorting and prancing, Valor scuffed his diamond hard hooves on the dusty ground and hovered protectively over his trainer. Remembering her training, and countless other show-downs with hard headed villagers, Jo firmed her spine. Feet at shoulders width, chest arched slightly forward, jaw firm, she presented a solid and confident front.

"Head-man Brent, the Riders deliver those goods we have been contracted to supply. If you have a quarrel with that order, take it up with this 'Trammel', whoever he is."

There was a disgusted snort from somewhere far back in the crowd, and a curvaceous red-head shot the Rider a withering glare.

"Trammel died three months back; the eejit got caught in a landslide."

Jo returned the woman a cool, steady glare, and only once the red-head had looked away did she turn back to the solid and imposing figure of Brent.

"Be that as it may, my offer still stands. Note on the list the goods you don't want, and as per standard Rider procedure, I can arrange to have their replacements shipped out at half-price."

The Rider knew just how tricksy hill-folk could be, knew it right down to the marrow, where a small girl child had once watched her elders wheedle, cajole and outright manipulate Riders into getting anything extra and cheaper that they could. Hill-folk where tough bastards, each an every one of them convinced they were owed more than they were due- and Jo was not going to back down.

Brent shifted his weight and pursed his lips, eyeing off the dusty ox-pokemon and their burdens, before considering the list in his grip. The villagers at his back leant forward, eager to see any sort of confrontation- but there was none forthcoming. Grunting, Brent spat off to the side and gave a thoughtful nod.

"Huh. Half-price, aye, Rider? We'll see how much of this junk we can actually use then."

There were angry murmurs of protest from the villagers, which Brent silenced with a hard look, before he turned back to a silent Jo. Pulling her scanner back out of her pouch, the Rider shifted her pokeballs to put them more prominently on display, and briskly set about her work.

"Right. The first load is all harvesting gear; scythes, those drying racks..."

--==//==--

Two hours later and an exhausted Jo was sprawled out in the shade, Valor standing guard over her. There had been a few tense moments during unloading, but as usual, sly hillfolk had sidled forwards to claim some of the 'unneeded' goods. Jo had heard so many excuses that day that she was heartily sick and tired of Chesto Valley, and more than eager to put it to her back.

In the end the only spare goods had been light weight, miscellaneous items. The Rider had arranged for a pidgeot courier to fly in the replacements, and placed the spare goods in a left-over packing bag. With the Taurous bedded down for the evening she was loathe to saddle up and head out again, but she was leery of the hospitality of the surly villagers.

"Not a nice night for camping, Rider. Storms heading in."

Slitting her eyes, Jo tilted her head to meet the dancing gaze of the boy who'd been so unabashedly eyeing her over earlier that day. Valor nickered a low warning, and the dark haired boy eased over to a nearby tree, leaning up against it. Jo pulled herself up, deciding to play at being nice. If she could score a warm bed for the night, so much for the better.

"I've lived through worse, won't hurt me 'n Valor to get a bit wet."

Shifting on his hooves, the fire-horse snorted at the mention of rain and eyed off the boy again. Jo flapped a hand at the rapidash, who grunted and drifted away, ripping up thin heat-baked mouthfuls of grass. Turning to face him, she arched an eyebrow and waited for his reply.

"Aye, but it won't hurt ye none to stay out of it, either."

Thumbs hooked in his belt, the boy rocked on his feet and took a few steps forward into the dusty late afternoon light. Jo hastily revised the 'boy' to 'young man'. Despite his clean shaven cheeks, there was an air of maturity in those wicked eyes and sculpted cheekbones, and there was definitely nothing boyish about the hard muscles under his loose fitting clothes. Jo felt something warm settle in her stomach, and gave him a slow smile.

"You offering me a warm bed for the night, then?"

With a wicked smirk to match the look in his eyes, the young man shifted closer, and offered her a hand up. Jo took it, eyeing him over consideringly.

"If you're wanting one. Names Rayne."

"Jo. C'mon Valor, looks like we're not getting wet tonight."

Eyeing the trim form of the Rider over, Rayne gave her a considering look in return, silently promising her a long, long night. Jo doubted that he was half as good as he thought it was, but a warm bed was nothing to turn down. And in a week there would be another boy with wicked eyes, another night in a warm bed, and they would mean nothing more to her than a passing cloud shadow.

--==//==--

When Rayne woke the next morning, he rolled over with a satisfied groan, arm stretching out to grope a body that wasn't there. Sleepy and disorientated, he fumbled in the bed covers for a moment before getting to his feet. Yawning, he stumbled out into the main room of the house he shared with several other bachelors, and ignored their knowing looks and sniggers. The Rider wasn't there, and his heart sank a little at the thought.

Hitching the sheet higher up on his hips, he chanced a look out the window.

Pale brown hair swept back into a sleek braid, the Rider was briskly harnessing up her small convoy of tauros, making sure that each load of bulky berry-storage units was securely roped on. Rayne remembered that hair sliding over him like silk, and those rough hands stroking him with delicious friction. Pausing to give a vague smile to a curious villager, the Rider whistled sharply for her Rapidash, mounting him in one smooth leap.

The young man shivered in the cool air, remembering how long legs had wound around him, and bitterly wondered if the Rider would remember him at all. Calming the prancing stallion with a touch of her hand, the Rider conferred with the village head man for a moment before gathering up the leads of the pack train that had been so thoughtfully handed to her. Rayne watched her turn and leave, lips twisting harshly. Riders flitted through the mountains, never staying in one palce for too long- or one bed.

The old women were right, he decided, a muscle jumping in his jaw as he ignored the snickers of his roommates and stalked back to his tiny room. Riders where nothing but trouble-making, bed-hopping nuisances, and he wouldn't be making the same mistake again, he silently vowed.

At least until the next pretty face came along.

--==//==--

"Ah, it's good to be out of there! Sunshine, a clear trail and no more deliveries- what more could we want, eh Valor?"

Flicking one ear back, the rapidash ignored his trainer in favour of picking his way down the steep track. Grumbling and lowing, the tauros fidgeted and tugged their ropes, all eager to get back the closest Rider base and their stalls. Humming to herself, Jo admired the panoramic view she had of the Blackthorn Ranges. Mountains reared up on her left, and made smudgy indigo lines on the right as well, bracketing a thick expanse of forest. The trees cleared out in places, giving way to acres of golden grass, and Jo smiled as she watched ponyta and stantler grazing so far below.

Despite its ups and downs, Jo genuinely enjoyed her work. Sure, hauling cargo around was a real pain in the arse, but the scenery more than made up for it. And if the people where either wary or outright hostile- well, she hadn't really established herself yet, and hill-folk took awhile to trust strangers. Still, they needed her. Every little pocket of stomped dirt they called a village genuinely needed the goods she brought, the packages and the letters that where a staple of the Riders Service.

Riders also served as adjudicators, as search-and-rescue teams, as part-time harvesters, or whatever was needed of them. If they could help they usually did, and the acts where sporadic enough that they were generally remembered. Riders might not be lauded as heroes, but the work they did was important, and Jo took pride in that.

"I'm way better than a pokemon trainer,"

She told Valor, who simply snorted and continued down the trail. Grinning, Jo stretched and eyed off the horizon. Way better, she silently repeated, and firmly stomped on the twinge of regret.

--==//==--