...
And as they laid together, the darkness of the room encompassing their still-entangled frames,
Despite their due exhaustion,
they did not wish to sleep.
So instead, they whispered stories to each other in the dark,
And the walls of the Estate did listen on:
"I couldn't even look at it again, until Kadabra and I got back to the apartment. I just couldn't. Because it was written, all over my face... But when we got back, and I opened it again... I was so excited. But terrified too. Terrified. Because again, these rumors about you, you gotta understand. To everyone, to me, you were legendary. And pretty... scary. And not even the archives of the Times could tell me much about you. And Kadabra, haha... Kadabra wasn't too thrilled. That I just couldn't stop thinking about you. But I could tell, the way Kadabra kept gazing at the orchid. Something in its eyes. That it was willing to give you another chance..."
...
"It felt kind of wrong, to be honest. Because I was certain you weren't a threat. I can't tell you how odd it really was, for the G-Men records to not find that much about you. But it did do something quite important, for me. It verified every last thing that you said. That you were born in Viridian, that most of your pokedex check-ins were at the Pokémon Center in Saffron... your work history at the Times. And just so you know. There's a footnote in there, about a Soul Badge. That you had rightfully won from Koga in a battle at his gym years ago. It says that you won it fair and square, but that you declined to accept, for some reason. And I was shocked, I really was, when I read this. Because I thought you were making a joke, when you had told me that. A joke that quite offended me, if I'm being honest. I know your feelings about the League, and all of that. But in the end it meant, that you were telling me the truth. Nothing you had said, had been a lie. And I found that so... wonderful."
...
"And they had their wedding in Alola, that was the first time I had ever gone there, and I loved it. It's just so beautiful, just so gorgeous outside every day, the beach, the sand, the tropical pokémon everywhere, in the ocean. My brother told me that his Gyarados loves it, because the waters were so much warmer there than they are around Kanto. And I know he loves it there too. But I can tell he gets homesick sometimes, you know? The way that he asks how my Dad's doing, how he only eats Kantonian food. They moved there to be with her family, and yeah, it's a paradise. But I know how much he wishes he were here, sometimes. But he did it, so that she could be happy..."
...
"...And my Mother's Hypno, it was always quite serious. I know psychic types can be like that, but Hypno didn't have any sense of humor, no sillyness there. Like how your Kadabra sometimes is, none of that. And all of my earliest memories have Hypno in them, it was always by my Mother's side."
"I saw a photo of your Mother, in the Study. She was so beautiful."
"She was...that's my favorite photo of her. How I choose, to remember her. And even though they're pretty different, her and Hypno's bond really remind me of you and Kadabra. Connecting with psychic types seems so different than connecting with the Dragons. With Dragons, it's mostly about power, and dominance. But with Kadabra, just like Hypno, it looks like its all about honesty. And trust, and I can tell that Kadabra trusts you so deeply. When I saw you connect with it, when we were in Seafoam. That was incredible... When my Mother first got sick, Hypno would really help her when she had trouble sleeping. It could put her under in an instant, faster and better than any of the sleeping pills could. But sometimes, I wondered if Hypno could feel her pain too. I hope not, I hope not... because it was doing something so honorable for her, something that she truly needed, and trusted Hypno to give to her. But if you thought Hypno was serious, you should have met my Father's Dragonite..."
...
"And then finally, my cousin got his eighth badge, and the entire family was so psyched for him. And it was an accomplishment, for sure. But I couldn't help but look at the situation, a little differently. He had spent years of his time, doing this. His education, his parents, his family, kind of fell to the wayside while he trained. And he wound up spending thousands on travel expenses alone. I know there's cheap ways to do it, to camp around the woods & stay at the Pokemon Centers. But I use to feel that the glory of winning, just wasn't worth giving up such a big part of your life. And I was pretty jaded about it. I mean... until I met you. Because I realized, it's more then just the win. Seeing you battle up close... Watching you at Wyndon, and that giant crowd at Indigo Stadium. It's, amazing. And hearing about everything you've done for Blackthorn, for the people there, because of how hard you worked, to get to where to you are today. And the bond that you have, with your team. All of this... really made me think. I still think the League has its issues, for sure. I still think it's kind of a rat race, and that young kids need to know what they're getting themselves into. But... I kind of want to train Kadabra harder. Train myself harder. So maybe, Kadabra and I will try for another badge one day..."
...
"And when I came back up to the surface, I thought, I'm a goner. This is it, this is the end. The storm was getting worse and the waves were just, thrashing, and Gyarados just didn't even care."
"Did it know that its Whirlpool had hit you that badly?"
"I think so, yes."
"I'm sure it didn't mean it."
"I know. It was just so upset. It was a different pokémon back then, the early days, it was just so hurt. So angry, you wouldn't have even recognized it. And if Kingdra hadn't been with me, if it hadn't brought me out from the walls of the Whirlpool. That would have been the end. You would have been covering my funeral at the Times."
...
And after many hours, their eyes began to grow heavy, and the rain outside had slowed to a calming drizzle.
Maya's sleepy voice hushed out so soft:
"I'm so tired... But I don't wanna sleep."
"It's okay... Come here. Just rest your eyes, for a moment."
She curled in close, head resting now upon his chest, his arms wrapping around her in a delicate embrace.
His silver eyes; they fell upon her tenderly,
His fingers, curling through her silken hair.
His body, so exhausted,
As his thoughts began to whisper down to her, softly:
"I've seen... many incredible things, in my life. In battle, with the League. In my training at Blackthorn. My years here at the Plato. With the G-Men, I've seen things you've only read about in stories. Legendary things. Mythical things. Beautiful things... But nothing was more beautiful, then the sight of you that night on Route 11."
Her eyes, still closed; but a tiny smile appeared, as his whisper continued on,
"You were the most beautiful thing, that I had ever seen. Your eyes, they just... saw right through me. And it wasn't just that... it was what you had said to me. You... challenged me, in a way that no one else had done. You were honest with me, in a way that no one else had been. And when you teleported away, with Kadabra, I had never felt so damn alone, in my life. It was like meeting you that night, had my heart just, bursting. And the second that you left, it was empty. And cold. Alone, in the dirt. In the soot."
Mayas hand reached for his own now, squeezing it tight, her eyes still closed.
"I didn't wanna wash it off," she hushed, her words lined in fatigue, "I wanted it... to stay."
He smiled softly, feeling her muscles growing softer with his every word.
"But when you came back. After I sent the orchid. I can't tell you, how happy I was. Just to see you, again. Just to share the same space as you, again. And to know that you had come back, just for me? I knew. From then on, I always knew. That I never wanted you to teleport away, ever again."
Her hand squeezed again, but her breathing drew deep, so slow; now lost and lingering to the surrender of her slumber,
As she finally fell into the deepest sleep.
He let out a soft sigh at this sight of her,
His sweet Vermilion flower,
His true and bonded partner,
His lover; his light,
As she began to dream.
And though he did not wish for this to end,
He too, was growing more and more weary by the second,
His bones so heavy, his muscles laced in their ache of the night.
But he didn't wish for sleep;
Didn't wish for time to keep flowing,
For soon it would be morning,
And then they'd have to part.
And so he settled in this moment,
Her cool, soft slumber on his chest,
As he began to count her sleeping breaths now, as they exhaled into this holy night,
Focusing on the number,
Wishing to distract himself
from this crushing great fatigue,
as his thoughts hushed out to him slowly,
One, two...
Maya, I'll always be with you
Three, four...
You'll always feel me on the breeze,
Five, six...
And in this way, I'll never leave you,
Seven, eight...
And in this way,
you won't leave me.
Nine...
Ten.
...
Cerulean eyes,
Slowly peeling open in the morning light.
Tucked in beneath a dark satin blanket, her eyes now taking in the ceiling of the room.
The memories of the night began to wash back over her,
His powerful body,
Her bucking hips,
The shining green glory of the vision's Rayquaza...
Her arms searched beside her, startled to find nobody there.
She sat up in the sheets now, her eyes falling to the foot of the bed.
Where Lance sat silently, peering into the sunlight that poured in through the half-shielded window, the muscles of his bare back casting long, lean shadows over his shoulders like the sunset valley beneath the Viridian hills.
His eyes peered back to find her,
A tiny smile overcoming his face,
Before falling, so softly.
Because they knew what must come next.
Maya crawled herself from the blanket, over across the bed, meeting the core of his body in a sweet and solid embrace.
The lines of his face; they were brooding in a new and solemn darkness...
But they softened, as his fingers couldn't help but fall upon her, wrapping his arms around her tight,
His hands up to her face now, his sweet Vermilion treasure,
Their lips closing in on the slowest kiss.
Their foreheads pressed together soft, Maya's hands reached up to graze at the edges of his solid jaw, tracing it down, holding it carefully beneath her gaze.
His silverstone eyes; they were drowning in this bold new sadness.
Her eyes spotted them now; their clothes, strewn about the floor.
Awaiting the Code's next ritual that he was bound to obey:
The Ritual of the Cloth.
We could just stay here,
Maya thought desperately,
We could just live nude, in this room.
But she knew, that this bargaining was useless.
Her eyes fell upon him again, the torn face of her sweet Dragon Master, his gaze now also looking over their clothes that they'd torn off one another in the bliss,
Frozen in this moment, welded to this sacred burgundy bed.
He's always the one to endure these things, Maya thought to herself,
Always the one to move forward and be strong, to carry on.
I won't make him be the one to start this...
I won't make him be the one who moves first.
In a lifetime of partings and heartache,
Isn't this the very least that I could do?
She moved herself to the edge of the bed carefully, Lance's eyes following now as she lifted herself to her feet. Her eyes spotted his black cotton tank on the far side of the room where it had been tossed.
She took a few more steps toward it,
Before she stopped,
a searing line of pressure
Calling out from within her chest,
An ache,
A bruise...
She turned around to face him, only to find his eyes turning with pain as well, his hand slowly rising to his ribs.
Their eyes; they met.
Before she took another step now, feeling the ache pulse out from her lungs yet again.
She reached down slowly, taking this first piece of armor in her little hands,
Remembering the moment it had slid off from him; revealing his dangerous body...
Cradling it in her hands; the cotton weaving between her fingers.
Their gaze locked again, but his eyes could barely watch.
She began a slow march toward him now,
and with each step, their ache began to ease.
Until she was standing right before him, between his welded knees, where he sat frozen at the end of this bed.
The stoic stare in his eyes; they grayed as they looked up to her now, his jaw hardening with the clench.
He suddenly stood up; feet planted, his shoulders broad,
His back held tall,
Her valiant Dragon Master, in this bold presenting stance,
Defiant in his hate of this vile ritual,
The one that meant their parting was to start.
He held out his hands before her, arms outstretched,
And her hands clasped around them,
As she positioned the sleeves of the charcoal tank at the ready,
Their eyes locking,
as she finally pushed it up over his forearms, sliding it over his skin, passing his rock-hard, aching biceps, up and over his garnet mop of hair,
Before draping it down over his chest, his mountainous abs disappearing beneath this first armored piece.
His navy pants came next, as Maya laid them out on the floor at his feet & he stepped in upon them slowly. Her hands lifted at their beltloops as she pulled them up over his tall and sturdy legs, his hips, the covering sheath returning over his weapon, where she fastened the button carefully and neat.
She froze now, her breath dipping composure; her face beginning to break as her hands left him, her vision blurring against the stillness of the room.
He tilted her chin up to him, his bold silver eyes crashing through.
Before he reached to lift up both her arms now, her blackened brazier clutched inside his hands,
As he slowly slid the straps upon them, up over her freckled shoulders, the elastic pulling tenderly as he stretched the cups around to the front where they covered her, and his gentle fingers closed it at the clasp.
And now it was her lace panties, presenting at the grounds of her feet. His hands gently braced to her hips as she moved to step within them, his eyes peering up to hers again, the tiniest little grin crossing his lips as he remembered the fiery moment when she had removed them.
His fingers feeling for the lace, he smoothly lifted them up now, sliding up over the curves of her trembling knees, her waiting thighs, where he stopped for a moment,
As he sighed, at the very weight of them; the heaviest lace in the world.
Before lifting to the edges of her hip bones, smoothing it strong, the armor now daintily covering her pink crystal bell.
And next came her satin black bottoms, as Lance readied them out on the floor of his Chambers as well.
Her eyes fell on them softly, looking down to her own little palms now, her thoughts hushing out,
We don't need these suits of armor...
We don't need anything at all.
She swallowed hard, her cerulean gaze finding him in this moment, fighting the tears.
But he quickly looked away, a solemn coldness masking over the breaks in his own face.
I must be strong for him.
His hand reached for her forearm as he guided her into the step, her feet sliding within the rounds of each satin pant leg. And he pulled them up tall, masking her little legs up again.
She quietly walked over to his navy Champions jacket, the one she had first met him in; the one, inspired by Galarian tradition, that always reminded Maya of nobleman and Heroes of the Rusted Sword.
She lifted it out in her hands, admiring the way the morning sun streaked over its sleek orange stripes.
Lance's arms outstretched to his sides now as Maya gently slid the sleeves of the jacket up over them, pulling it tall where it settled seamlessly upon his back, perfectly tailored to the muscles of his upper body. She walked around to his front side where her fingers found each open bottom half at the brim of his beltline, gracefully falling over the jacket's zipper, before lightly pulling the teeth together where they were meant to intertwine. She peered up to him as her hand zipped it snug, carefully closing him up; slowly sealing him in.
Her hands then parted at the collar, feeling the hardened fabric where it stretched over his chest.
She took a step back to admire him; so brutally handsome.
But his eyes; they were still staring so cold.
He took a few steps toward the center of the room now, finding Maya's final piece of armor left waiting in a graceful pile on the floor: her silken maroon blouse, the one he had hastily torn off from her in the throes of the night.
This delicate Venomoth silk in his calloused hands; he suddenly felt like an untamed, feral brute as his fingers gently caressed the red and regal fabric, so cosmically contrary to his own scarred and hardened body; so velveteen and small.
But it suits my Maya so wonderfully, he thought to himself; its poised and royal color, its lustrous little hem.
He unfolded it gently before them, their eyes now both falling on the obvious shredded rip at the blouse's high-neck collar.
And they smiled, remembering the passion from the tear.
She held out her arms strong.
As he softly pulled its silken sleeves to cover down over her naked arms, Maya felt a beating in her chest now; a strange nervousness that she hadn't sensed in a long while, at the feel of him crossing behind her, before moving around to the front.
His fingers then found the stone buttons of the blouse, starting at its very bottom to seal them up one by one.
Her eyes followed his large, powerful hands as they worked at them delicately.
She closed her eyes at the memory of them;
SLAM;
Of those knuckles hitting the cold door of the locker back at Wyndon,
That very first time they had ever shared an empty room.
Her eyes then opened to peer past him, to the dresser's massive mirror that still watched on, another memory of his fingers conjuring up fast:
'Mmmmm...'
The way he had explored her last night; those strong piano hands that had touched her, and played her down smooth...
He slowly made his way up to the top button, fastening it closed, before his fingers moved over to the blatant rip in the silken collar. He pulled it up taught, only for it to fall back down open along her shoulder.
They smiled again; this was good enough.
She looked down upon herself; she was now fully dressed.
And there was only one last piece of armor that remained:
His royal Champion's cape.
They both spotted it, hanging neatly on the antique rack where Maya had so carefully placed it last night.
She took his hand,
Before leading him over to the dresser, where the coat rack hung tall.
She turned to the cape, staring it down softly.
She paused; she sighed.
It towered over them both.
She slowly reached up, removing it from the rack to hold out in her little arms. The black, woven fabric was so heavy in her hands; so majestic and strong, each sacred stitch a testament to his elite glory.
After all the times she had watched it wave about in the wind;
Seeing it here, lying still, felt indecent.
It deserves to billow on the currents of Kanto, Maya thought.
It deserves to whip in the winds of his victories; to stand as tall as he stands, to walk where he walks,
To protect his burdened shoulders,
In the times when I cannot.
The tears began to well in her cerulean blues; frozen there, the cape clutched in her arms.
Their eyes met;
And his face; it instantly broke beneath her trembling gaze.
His jaw tightened; holding it in like shattered glass.
The vicious thought calling out to her:
He wouldn't leave without this;
I could just keep it, for myself.
A single tear,
Now rolling down her cheek,
Fell upon the cape's dense cloth, blending right in to the hollow of the black.
She swallowed hard;
I will not hold him hostage;
It will protect him, when I cannot.
She moved around behind to Lance's back,
Before gently, slowly,
Lowering the cape's pauldron over his broadened shoulders,
Wrapping the gothic collar around his neck, pulling it up tall,
Before moving around to the front, where she flattened it over smooth against his armored chest.
Her eyes then spotted the hanging platinum chain; a chain that she knew she'd always envy, as it forever lives crossed over her Champion's heart,
She caressed the silver links over the pads of her fingers, admiring the cold metal on her skin,
Before following it over slow, as she stretched it across. Finally, she carefully hooked it back into place on the other side, right onto the silver dragon-pin button that stared back at her coldly, as if it too could feel the gravity in the room.
The chain latched on; the cape was set.
And just as she did the night before, she brought her lips forward, planting the softest kiss on the cold engraved face of the silver little button, her thumb smoothing over the etching as she slowly pulled away.
Her fingers; they trailed down the cape's open edges so softly,
Before meeting his waiting hands, where their fingers laced together,
Their eyes locked again,
Before he pulled her in tight, into a warm, hugging embrace,
His hands clutching in her hair; her arms squeezing him so tight.
Their armor now ready for battle.
...
...
Thank you all SO much for reading! Here's a sneak-preview of the next chapter, entitled, "The Silken Tear" :
But his silver eyes never left her,
As she ascended up into the clouds,
Far and above the golden gate of the Estate house,
Far above the winding mythic caves of the Plato,
The pain growing stronger and stronger,
Deeper and deeper in the bones of them both,
In the true silken tear of their Longing.