~ a!n: so there's basically smut in this one...prepare yourself, terrible smut is coming ~
[]
"This is completely unacceptable." The gym leader's voice is booming, vicious in all it's might. She suppresses the urge to flinch.
N is not present, but he doesn't need to be. She is the champion; she can be strong all on her own.
"I think I get to deem what's acceptable and what's not." Not think: knows. She knows she's being a tyrant, knows she exercising her power in ways that none has ever before, but she can't bring herself to care.
It's not just about N. It's about the suppression, the constant push to be perfect and shameless and Unova's sweetheart. And that would be fine; it's not like she doesn't want that, to be a perfect girly girl. Lord knows she went around wearing pink for years for a reason. No, the problem lies in the fact that that is simply not Hilda, not at all, and she's quite through with trying to pretend it is.
Her words cause a ripple through those seated at the round table, called for a meeting by Alder. Every gym leader in Unova and all of their apprentices have made themselves present at the league, but only the former dare seat themselves around the table like Arthur's Knights. Their sympathies are clearly drawn; the majority side with Alder despite their love of Hilda, and though she can't blame them, her chest throbs with the feeling of a dagger driven into it.
The only one siding with her eyes the brunette with crisp blue eyes, snapping her bubble gum as she twists a braid around her slim finger. Elisa has never been one to speak too much – she lets her face do the talking.
"He is a wanted criminal. Your protection or no, he's going to be arrested, and it's in your best interest to simply allow that to happen." Alder's words are soft, and if she were the same girl from the past then she might believe them. "Please, Hilda. Do not make this anymore difficult than it has to be."
She pauses a moment, considering it. Although it's not all about N, it's partially about him, and she tries to imagine the future she would have if she turned him in.
No warm weight next to her in the night. No one to fight the covers for at one in the morning. No one to spin her around and hold her tight after a particularly successful day. No pressure on her mouth, sweet and gentle and so desirous of her but so terribly unsure. No one to press her up against the wall, to fill her up with wanting and love and the most sinful of urges to take him in all his innocence and show him the way. No one to whisper in her ear. No one to make her laugh at the most inappropriate moments. Maybe she would turn in the old N, the one she met at the beginning of her journey, but he has grown so much since then. He has become so social, has grown out of his shell, and to throw that away would be similar to throwing away a particularly tricky essay after spending weeks on it.
It only takes her a moment to reject the vision, and before she knows it she's looking them all directly in the eye. It's like they've forgotten that she is not their precious little teacup; she has challenged them all and won, has been challenged by the elite four several times over and walked away without a drop of sweat on her thick brows. She has traveled the deserts and seas and has made a lover out of a king, has beaten that king's father into the dust with her power simply for tearing her king down psychologically. She is a queen in her own right, without all the fancy dresses and crowns. Her crown is her hat, her scepter her Pokemon, and it seems they've forgotten this in the midst of her absence. If they think they can control her, then yes, there is no doubt they have forgotten, and she feels the overwhelming urge to remind them.
"I will make it difficult. I'll fight you every inch of the way, Alder. I'll fight you even when you're dragging him away in chains, and I'll fight you even when he's behind bars. And do you know something?" She's addressing them all now, even Elisa, who looks particularly proud as her champion stands above them all.
She leans into Alder's ear, her voice a whisper.
"I never, ever lose."
With the dramatic flair that she picked up from Rosa, she practically struts out, leaving them all open mouthed.
As she closes the door behind her, she hears the entire room erupt into shouts, and she walks away smiling.
[]
"So you convinced them, then?"
N's voice is a life raft in the rushing water, and she tightens her arms around his neck as she leans into him, adjusting herself on his lap. She clears her throat once, twice, and when she speaks her tone is almost sheepish.
"Well, not exactly…"
The look he gives her reminds her that he's hot when he raises his eyebrows.
"Okay, so I didn't. But I told them all off, if it makes you feel better."
He sighs, as if he knows how to play this game of politics and she's a terrible amateur, and she supposes he does. He's been trained in it all his life, trained how to handle his destiny with the crown, and Hilda's political intelligence goes as far as playing a game of monopoly with Cheren and Bianca can take her.
"Telling them off, as you say, does nothing." He takes on an alien tone, and she's reminded that as far as he's gone, he has yet to learn the slang of the modern world. It's like he was raised in Tudor times or something. "You have to take action to prove that there is weight behind your words, or they will never take you seriously." He touches her lip when she pouts. "Not that they don't already."
The look she gives him is remnant of the first night, and his jeans are suddenly terribly, terribly small.
She notices. Her smile, not a stranger to him, is victorious as she leans up to press her mouth against his, the people in the Pokemon center lobby that stare be damned. Her hand grips the back of his neck forcefully, pulling him closer like the space between them is unwelcome. She feels a pair of arms gently tugging at the clothes on her back, although it's certainly not for the reason she wants. It's not the tug of "goddamn woman take your clothes off right now and never put them back on," which she really wouldn't mind doing despite the fact that their in public [she's done worse things,] but the tug of "I seriously want you right now but there's more important matters at hand."
This doesn't stop her from taking her sweet time pulling away, of course, leaving her legs wrapped around him like a Serperior and arms coiled around the back of his throat. When he leans in again, she's tempted to tug him up into the room, plotting be damned, but his kiss is so thoroughly chaste and stern that she is forced to settle with her current position. Her thoughts travel, and she almost laughs at the fact that not twenty minutes earlier, she was calling herself a queen; right now she is nothing more than a young teenager in love, hormones running amuck. If N notices, he doesn't say a thing.
"Now, as I was saying. Your best bet would be to..."
She almost groans at the educational tone he takes on. This would be a long night.
[]
When she wakes the next morning, bird Pokemon chirping outside the window, she tries to make sense of the situation. She is still in his lap, but instead of being in the Pokecenter lobby, they are seated at the desk in the rented bedroom. There's only one chair, which explains why her legs are on either side of him and her arms are wrapped forcefully around his waist. However, it doesn't explain why they fell asleep here, or why there's a rather timid banging on the door. She rubs the crust out of her eyes, and in doing so feels N stirring under her.
"Mnh? Wha' happenin'?" The lack of perfect speech, ruined by a thick tongue and morning mouth grossness, makes her giggle, and she slides of his lap and stumbles towards the door.
"Nurse Joy, I think. Probably telling us to get our lazy bones up." He nods at her imitation of the woman, satisfied as he makes to move to the bed.
"Did we fall asleep practicing your speech or somethin'?" His usual posh tone is raggled by sleep, and she smothers laughter.
"Probably. Either that or we decided that a swivel chair was more comfortable than a bed." He snorts drowsily at her joke, and in a moment he's snoring again, wrapped up in the sheets. She fights the longing to join him, to wrap him up in her arms or vice versa, and instead does what she got out of his lap for.
When she opens the door, adrenaline shoots through her veins.
"I-I'm so sorry, Mrs. White, t-th-they told me they would hurt Mr. H-H-Harmonia.." The candy floss haired woman bursts into tears, and Elisa pushes past her with little to no sympathy. Her body guards remain readily by the door.
"It's fine, Nurse Joy, rea-" The door swings shut, cutting her sentence in half. By the time Hilda has opened her mouth to speak, Elisa has beat her to it.
"I came to warn you." Her eyes fall on N, who stirred awake at the slam of the door. Hilda watches as the other takes in her – boyfriend's? – appearance, and she feels a pang of jealousy in her gut.
It disperses when Elisa laughs at him.
"So, this is the boy you fight for." She steps closer to the bed, and N, bless his heart, does not move. He is a statue, his face unreadable, and Hilda is for once grateful for his unwavering seriousness. "She has fought a good deal for you, you know. She stood up to all of us at the council meeting." She turns back to him, arching one perfect brow. "I do hope you're thanking her adequately."
Hilda doesn't know what it is that gives it away, but something in the way she says adequately makes her cheeks heat. N is less than amused, fearless in the face of the gym leader. Sometimes it's easy to forget that N defeated the Unova gym leaders as well, but as she watches the scene, Hilda remembers.
"Warn us about what?" Thank Arceus for his directness.
The model almost seems to pout before she begins. "Alder is coming to arrest you." At the word you, she looks dead at N.
If he's surprised, he doesn't show it.
"How long?"
"About an hour. He's gathering up evidence as we speak. He told the gym leaders not long ago, and I thought I should give you a fair start." She leans back like she's just played a particularly good move in chess, and for a fleeting moment, Hilda remembers learning to play the game with N back when they were still flirtatious and unaware of the future ahead.
"This is the queen." His words were affectionate as he held up the piece, and she smiled innocently, the meaning of the words not escaping her. "She protects the king."
"Does she?" Another smile, more coy.
For once, N's lips turned up to match. "Yes. She protects him very, very well."
"Hilda?"
She visibly jolts from the memory, glancing at the other two occupying the room. "Yeah?"
"When do you want to leave?" N this time. "Sooner rather than later would be more beneficial. Either way, we cannot stay here. For your safety and mine, it is best we leave the region."
He says it so casually, like a comment on the weather. She swallows, picturing her family, her brother. He would be home now, waiting for her to return with that new ball and chain of a boyfriend. She opens her mouth to protest, ends up saying something completely different. "Where would we go?"
He is cold, unaffected. Focused. Mathematical in his thinking; she can practically hear him running numbers through his head. She knows him, knows he thinks everything in percent and fraction and probability. Knows that because of this, he's dependable. They're achingly different in this; he can do calculus in seconds, while she'll sometimes have to ask him what nine times twelve is. It's a good match in the way that the sun and the moon are a good couple. "I have colleagues in Hoenn, from when Looker was searching for me. We could stay with them until-"
"No."
The two look at the brunette, surprised.
"I can't-my mom, Hilbert, Cheren, Bianca, my Pokemon.." she lists off her responsibilities, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights.
"Your Pokemon would accompany us, obviously. The others stay, unfortunately.." he watches carefully as he trails off, waiting for her to burst into flame with the famous White temper.
"I'm staying."
He is terribly good at hiding his surprise.
"Well, I'll be heading out before this gets ugly." Elisa stands with enviable grace, waggling her fingers at the two before Hilda can beg her to stay. "Ta-ta!"
The door slams.
Silence.
Surprisingly, N is the one to break it.
"I have to go. It's that or be locked in a cage, possibly executed." He draws in a measured breath, his legs hanging off the side of the bed as he turns. "I am going whether you do or not."
"Okay." The word rips her chest open as it leaves her mouth, and when she glances up, she notices that his mask is gone. His mouth is open slightly in surprise, and his eyes are wide like a puppy's.
"You can go to Hoenn. I'm staying here with my family."
The words are final, and she feels like someone has hollowed her out and filled her up with lead. Not crying, of course. Crying is impossible these days. She is simply numb, unable to open up and sob because it is so unbecoming of her. He'd understand, but she doesn't care, and neither do her tear ducts.
"I see." His words are careful, precise, and yet on the last word his voice breaks.
It is not like they have not been separated before. She remembers life without him, and she is sure she can go through with it. There is simply the issue of the fact that now, she is much deeper in the situation than she was before, and going through daily routine would be…difficult, to say the least.
She is reminded of the vision she conjured at the meeting. No warm weight in the night, no arm around her waist, awkwardly tugging her closer. No breath on her neck. No extreme proximity to one another, no kisses, nothing. Simply the empty feeling and the search for green hair in a crowd.
In a moment, she is running across the room and flying into his arms, throwing him back onto the bed in the process. She is blubbering words before she even realizes.
"PleaseI'mgoingtomissyousomuchstaystaypleasestayIl oveyouplease-" The stream of words goes on, and all the while he doesn't tell her to shut up, amazingly. He simply brings her closer, rubbing her back and stroking her hair occasionally and shushing her. He does not kiss her. He does not force her. Maybe he enjoys seeing her in pain, she thinks, and she draws back. This is not becoming for a champion either, but then again, she cannot always be a champion. Sometimes all she can be is a girl with extreme empathy and too much compassion to be healthy.
"You don't have to leave." These words actually have space between them, and she would be proud if she could feel something.
Long fingers on her cheek, tracing the bones in her face like it's a classic sculpture.
"I do. You know it, too."
Of course she knows it, but she's tired of people leaving, tired of having her trust broken. It's not like it's his fault, of course, but it doesn't make it any better.
"I-" The words are stuck in her throat, and his fingers find her neck, tracing the veins.
"I know."
She frowns. He knows? That is no way to answer an admission like that, or at least, the 1/3 of an admission that she has just given.
"Excuse me?" She draws back, slapping his hand away and sitting up.
He follows her example. "It's rather obvious. I mean, with the way you have behaved, I would have to be stupid to have not seen it."
He would have done better slapping her across the face.
"Go."
"What?"
"Go. Go to Hoenn. I am obviously just another science experiment to you." She goes to pack her things, picking them out of the mix of clothes all over the floor and throwing them into her suitcase without any ceremony.
"Hilda-"
She throws the last of her clothes in, goes to find her bottles of shampoo and conditioner in the bathroom. She comes out successful, throwing him a sharp look as he moves to help her. "I don't need you to help me pack. I'm not five."
"No, but you might as well be." He reaches for the shampoo in her hand, and in a show of defiance, she flings it into the bag.
Of course, with her luck, the worst happens: the lid pops, and she is covered in pink goo before she can blink.
"Ugh!" She storms away, presumably to take a shower, and N follows like a lost dog.
"You are very articulate."
"Shut up!" But she can't help a smile when he's not looking, forcing herself to hold in her laughter, reminding herself of the terrible rage she feels towards him.
She is angry. She is angry.
"Would you like me to help you?"
Suddenly, it's not so difficult anymore.
"What, undress?" She whirls on him, away from the running water, taking any excuse to be mad. "You want to see me naked or something, pervert?!" In any other situation, she would have flirtatiously smiled and taken the invitation, encouraging his forwardness. But this was not any other situation.
"I was simply-"
"Get out!" In an instant, she is shoving him, but he doesn't budge. "Get the hell out! I hate you! Get out!"
He is waiting for her to stop, she thinks, and when she doesn't he grips her arms and forces her still.
"You cannot have hate without love," he tells her, something he presumably learned from one of his tutors, and suddenly she's kissing him. It's not like the others, which were slow and learning and inexperienced. This is passionate, heart breakingly so, and as he slips her tongue into her mouth she stops caring about the shampoo coating that she's got going on and more about the fact that she's seconds from tears.
As it turns out, he helps her undress after all.
He tugs lightly on her shirt, and she nearly slaps him for asking permission before she's going above and beyond and pulling her bra off too, if only to prevent the awkward fumbling that will be sure to follow. His shirt is gone when she presses herself up against him again, which is progress, but not enough, and soon enough they're both bare and shivering and when she grabs him by the throat to pull him into the shower, soaking them both, he doesn't protest.
She's not about to do him any favors; she's mad as hell, so when she leans against the wall she shoves him to his knees mercilessly. Of course, he's obedient, eager to make her happy again, but she still gasps when he delves his tongue into her, and her hands palm his locks. "N, N, oh god, N, please-" She doesn't know what she's begging for until he sucks on her clit and she moans his name loud enough for anyone walking past to hear, and she feels herself let go and he's lapping it up oh god-
Before she knows it, he's up again, shoving her up against the wall, insecurities be damned. She gets the guts to look at his face, and she finds herself surprised when she sees his eyes glazed over with heat. She's not one for random profanity, but…fuck.
And that's exactly what he does
It's not sweet. It's not romantic. Halfway through he remembers he doesn't know where to put it and she has to direct him with what little carnal knowledge she has. Luckily he's a fast learner and soon enough he's fucking her against the fiberglass wall of the shower and she's tangling her fingers in his hair and saying his name and moaning for more and thank Arceus for him because he gives, gives, gives. He's moving up into her and it's so good, it's better than the kissing on the wall, and she tries to tell him but all that comes out is a ragged breath and a long, drawn out: "Please, N, oh god please just like that oh-" His breath is hot in her ear, whispering her name like a prayer, and she runs her fingernails down his back, across the scars from the whips, and he actually growls. She didn't think he was capable of doing this kind of thing, of being a man and saying dirty things and even doing them, but when he heatedly talks into her ear and whispers "God, you're tight," she wants that release so badly that she'd kill.
He was right. There is no weight behind the words unless you follow through, and he follows the rule dutifully. When he says he'll fuck her, he does. When he says he wants her, he proves it. She digs her fingers into the scars again at his obedience, and the near snarl that leaves his mouth makes her laugh devilishly.
It's not love. It's not hate. It's lust, and when he fills her up again she understands why it's a sin. And she doesn't give a damn, wants to prove that she doesn't, so when he stops whispering bad things into her ear for a moment she starts to beg, her sentences incomplete. "H-harder, N, I need it, please N ple-fuck!" she cries out when he listens, when he gives and sends electricity through her, and she thinks for a moment that he's laughing at her.
But he's not. Instead, he's laying kisses down her neck despite the roughness of everything and she hates it, shoves him down on the floor of the shower and takes control, his groans in her ears. She doesn't care that he probably feels weak. She wants it, and she wants it her way, so when he fights to get up she shoves him down, moving against him forcefully. He says her name like a warning now and she's right there with him, biting her lip and he thrusts up into her, feral like a wild animal, like a wolf ready to eat, oh-
She sees supernovas behind her eyes, hears him cry out, and then it's over.
She remembers to praise him, and as a last thought she mouths against his chest, his neck, his chin, coming up to his lips and smiling through the contact. Her breath is labored, but she still musters enough strength to push up against him, kiss him hard enough to bruise.
She's pissed as hell, of course, but that definitely put the odds in his favor.
[]
"Wow."
They're curled up in the bed, toweled off and packed, ready to leave the Pokecenter on a moment's notice. She spoke first, her arm around his torso and one slender leg thrown over his. When she speaks, he glances down, playing mindlessly with her hair, nodding his agreement. Of course, the first time had been memorable, but then Hilda had insisted they do it again just to be sure, and he hadn't protested.
"I'm still leaving." The words don't hurt her.
"When do you think you'll come back?"
"It depends. How long will they search for me?"
"A year, maybe two."
"Then I'll be gone a couple of years."
She raises up, resting her chin on his chest.
"And you won't find some pretty blonde thing in that time?"
He grins. "I'm more into redheads…ow!" He can't help but picture the future hand-shaped bruise on his chest from the attack.
"Something to remember me by. A good reminder, I think." She squeals as he rolls her over, leaning over her like a pouncing Liepard.
"And there is always the shower incident if I forget." She smacks him again, on the face this time, pausing to kiss him hungrily before speaking again.
"Stop calling it an incident. It wasn't an accident. Besides," she notes, thumbing the neck of his jacket and pressing her lips to his face in between the words. She's savoring it; lord knows they'll be lucky to even see each other again. He must be savoring it too, because when she catches his mouth again, he responds eagerly, their mouths melding like they really are the sun and the moon, embodied and meant to be together. "You were willing."
He smirks, kissing her cheeks, her eyes, and lastly, lingeringly, her mouth. "Very."
The shower wasn't sweet. This, however, is, and it lasts for a couple more seconds before there's a loud banging on the door and it's over for N and Hilda as a couple. It's time for N to be the criminal, the wanted king, and for Hilda to be the determined trainer, the champion. She swears she hears N sigh as he pulls away from the last kiss that screams for more, more, more. She tries to make it into goodbye, but all she can do is fight the urge to grab at him as he makes to escape out the window.
Alder is here, and that means the end, as well. Unfortunately for him, the King and the Trainer are prepared.
~ a!n: so I wrote smut, and I feel dirty.
Nah, just kidding, it was fun. I've never had written smut before, but I tried, so don't judge me. Maybe it's uncharacteristic for N to know how to be hot, idek. Feel free to tell me how bad it was, I understand. At this point N is so ooc I'm thinking about making it AU. Not even joking.
Also, cliffhanger! Are you looking forward to it? I am. I don't even know what's going to happen yet. This is on the verge of becoming porn with a plot though, honestly.
R&R, lovelies! ~