Author's Note: What's this? Another new story?! I can't help it, the writing bug has really been biting me recently. (Update for Not The One is on the way!) This is actually a concept that's been in the back of my mind for years, and finally it's coming together in a coherent way.
Content warning: blood, violence, occasional swearing, sexual references (nothing beyond the T rating).
This story will follow all four girls, who have separate storylines but will heavily intertwine. The focus is mainly on romance but also friendship and healing each other.
Set in a futuristic Pokémon Alternate Universe where each region is ruled by a monarch and Pokémon themselves are more "ornamental" than part of daily life. At least, that's how it is in the beginning…
Chapter One
Ball Of The Year
Leaf smeared her cheeks with blush and painted her lips with rose-pink gloss. She raised her gold-plated mask, styled in the shape of Zapdos's face, to her eyes. She practiced her curtsy in the dusty mirror, watching the way the many skirts of her emerald-green dress folded in on themselves as her legs lowered her to the ground.
She smiled prettily. She was ready.
It was easy to jimmy the lock and open the door to her room.
Grabbing her cloak, she bunched her skirts in her left hand and practically flew down the spiral staircase, not caring for the thick cobwebs or crumbling stone.
Slipping out of the small, recently-oiled door, she darted across the courtyard, sticking to the shadows.
A Rapidash waited for her just outside the stables, all saddled up.
"Thank you," she whispered as she pressed a gold coin into the stablehand's sweaty palm.
Her cape billowed behind her as her Rapidash ate up the ground. It wasn't long before they were in the forest, galloping a trail she knew well.
The Royal Ball of Kanto happened only once a year. Nothing was going to make her miss it.
May practically vibrated with nervous energy. Her petal-red dress suffocated her chest, the corset laced strongly and the skirts deceptively heavy. Her feet ached from standing in glittering red heels that no-one could see, and her hair was pulled and curled too tightly into an elaborate up-do causing a vague headache that nibbled away at her attention-span.
"A little straighter, darling," whispered her mother in her ear.
May forced a smile and straightened her spine. Though if she straightened any more, her spine might just snap.
"How long do we have to stand here for, again?" May muttered back as her mother graciously offered her hand to yet another balding lord who kissed it and gushed over her beauty.
"Just until everyone has been greeted," Caroline muttered back out of the side of her mouth before the next lord and his family approached.
May stifled a groan. She'd always hated balls, but balls in other regions were the worst. As royalty, they were just there to be gawked at like Taillow trapped in glittering gold cages. At least back in Hoenn, all the noble-born families already knew them and thus such formal greetings weren't required.
On the other side of Caroline stood May's younger brother, Max. On the other side of him, Princess Dawn of Sinnoh stood alone since she was the only direct relative of Sinnoh's Queen, Johanna. May's father, King Norman of Hoenn, and Queen Johanna of Sinnoh sat upon thrones either side of Kanto's Queens: the eldest Waterflower daughters. Daisy, Violet, and Lily made history when they became the Three Queens of Kanto. It was unheard of for sisters to share the crown, but they had done it.
Princess Misty of Kanto was floating around the ballroom, mingling. This was her home turf; she neither had to greet all the noble families nor had to preside over the room sitting on a throne. May seriously envied her right now.
She managed to mutter greetings barely half as graciously as her mother and brother, and she dutifully held out her hand to be kissed every time a wrinkly old lord with a creepy glint in his eyes approached.
Meanwhile, her eyes wandered the room. Twirling dresses in every colour, sparkling gemstones adorning necks and hands, flashing lights and a lively band keeping the atmosphere thrumming with energy—it all might have been fun, if she was allowed to actually dance and talk to people her own age!
A flash of green caught her eye from among the cascading colours of clothes. She wasn't sure why her gaze snagged on it—perhaps because it was his hair that was green, not his tuxedo. She watched as he moved across the room. He walked fluidly with confidence that spoke to noble birth, and the glimpses she caught of his dress attire showed expensive silk.
And yet, she didn't know who he was. Perhaps that was why she became so invested in following him. She was meeting every nobleman in the room tonight. Those she had yet to greet were in a line in front of her mother. If the man with green hair had approached and kissed her hand, she would have remembered him.
Why wasn't he lining up to pay his respects?
Her eyes narrowed.
A mystery was just what she needed to brighten up this drab evening.
Dawn flashed smile after dazzling smile at the lords lining up to gush her praises. She loved these balls. The dresses, the music, the adoration…
What she didn't love were the looks her mother continued to surreptitiously throw her way from the smaller throne to the left of the Waterflower Queens.
It was almost as if her mother didn't trust her play her part—which was ridiculous, because Dawn thrived in this environment. This was her world, and she was going to ensure everyone knew it.
"Thank you, Lord Stuffington," Dawn simpered, inclining her heard with a pretty flutter of her eyelashes to probably the hundredth old man of the evening. As he backed away, bent in a bow that looked almost as if he was stuck at that angle, she sent a slightly haughty look toward her mother and then took a few steps back from the line of royal families. She had been placed at the end on the other side of Prince Max of Hoenn, with whom she had nothing in common. Truth be told, she found him quite annoying. He was young and arrogant with none of the tact a true ruler required.
No-one had said she needed to stay where she had been originally placed. She had as long as it took for the next nobleman to greet Queen Caroline of Hoenn to find a new placement.
With quick, dainty steps she sashayed behind the line of royals and popped out at the other next—next to Princess May of Hoenn.
"So dreary, isn't it, this greeting business?" Dawn muttered in May's ear.
May jumped, her feet actually leaving the ground.
Dawn giggled behind her ornamental fan. She liked May. They were the same age, with the same responsibilities in their respective regions, but more than that—May was always amusing to interact with.
"Dawn?" May yelped, forgetting to be quiet.
Dawn smoothed the imaginary wrinkles out of her dress as she settled in her new position on May's right. A few of the closest lords sent frowns their way. Queen Caroline didn't look at them, but her mouth tightened in a clear sign of disapproval.
It didn't matter. Dawn's agenda tonight, under the direction of her own mother, was rather different to what she suspected Caroline and May expected of the evening.
"I thought I would come and say hi," Dawn said after the next lord had kissed her hand and backed away bowing, not looking amused by her antics. She spoke with her ornamental fan fluttering in front of her face so that no-one but May would hear her words. "I felt quite lonely next to your brother."
"Yes, well." May looked like she was trying not to grin, which would have been ungracious. "Max is not someone to invite to a party if you want to have fun."
Dawn barely contained her snort of genuine amusement. If she hadn't had her fan, she would have been royally screwed. "Are you, May?"
They had to pause their discreet conversation to properly greet the next lord.
"Are you fun at a party, I mean?" Dawn clarified in the short bout of breathing space they got.
May's eyes sparkled under the swiftly changing lights. "If Kanto ever runs out of these noble families to greet, you'll find out, Princess Dawn."
A smile curled Dawn's lips. She didn't know May well. They met maybe once or twice a year at balls, and maybe an extra time or two at celebratory banquets, but it wasn't like they got much time at such events to actually talk and get to know each other. Mostly, Dawn was just glad that May didn't have a stick up her ass like the other Princess their age: Princess Misty of Kanto, who was currently somewhere freely roaming the room and who probably wouldn't deign to acknowledge either of them all night.
"Oh, I look forward to it," Dawn responded. She risked a glance at her mother.
Queen Johanna's face was a serene mask, but as her eyes flicked toward Dawn just for a second, Dawn swore she noticed the tiniest hint of a smile on her face.
Leaf stepped through the door and closed it quickly behind her, pressing her back against it. The ball was loud and vibrant and everyone was tipsy. No-one noticed the girl in the green dress and gold mask entering through the servants' quarters instead of being announced at the top of the main staircase. It was easy to bribe servants—no-one ever paid them enough.
She lingered for a moment, taking in the vast, high ceiling and dangling chandeliers, noting the guests who clung to the walls or settled at tables for conversation.
Then she was off, slipping seamlessly into the throng of dancers and carving out a place for herself.
It wasn't hard. Even with the mask obscuring half her face, it was clear she was a beautiful young woman. Eager male hands passed her between them; she didn't let any of them keep her long enough to think she was choosing a partner. This was the way the dancing worked: partners would stick with each other for the duration of the song, but singletons would change partners every few steps—perhaps endlessly or perhaps they would find themselves with someone they wanted to keep as a partner, and they they would partake in the partnered dance.
It was dazzling and sparkling and scintillating. Here on the dance floor, she was just a woman in an expensive dress losing herself to the music. It was her guilty pleasure: the one freedom she allowed herself.
Then something changed.
The man who currently twirled her pulled her back into his chest instead of letting her spin out into the next partner's arms.
She was surprised, and almost tripped as her feet tried to go one way and her torso was pulled another way.
"Oh!" she exclaimed as the man steadied her with one hand on her waist, the other clasping her gloved wrist.
"Leaving so soon, gorgeous?" asked a voice smoother than honey.
She broke her rule of never looking at her partners, and found herself gazing into brown eyes warmer than chocolate. He had sharp cheekbones and spiky hair styled in a way that was supposed to be careless.
For a moment, he managed to steal her breath.
Then she regained control of her senses and tried to pull away from him, to continue her twirling path around the room. However handsome he was, she couldn't allow herself to engage. It was too dangerous.
But he didn't let her go. His body was one with the music, his rhythm impossible to evade. Every step she took, he was already ahead of her. When she twirled out, he reeled her back in like a fish. His hands were fairy-light at her waist and around her wrist, but when she tried to bow out of his grasp he switched hand positions, expertly turning her back in on herself.
She began to get frustrated. Everything she tried, she couldn't win.
It was exasperating and infuriating and impressive and thrilling and breathtaking.
Never, in all the times she had snuck into ball, had she encountered a partner so well matched to her own shrewdness.
But the song did not last forever. As it began to slow down, Leaf allowed herself one more look into her partner's eyes. She didn't spend much time around people and she knew she wasn't the best at reading them, but she was certain as she looked upon this mysterious man's face, there was kindness in his eyes, lingering deep under the flirtatious mask.
She had danced with him for only half a song, but for some reason it was hard to take the first step away from him. She steeled herself, and took it anyway.
"Wait," he said, gently tugging at the hand still clasped in his. He'd let go of her waist, and she could easily pull away if she wanted to. "What's your name, Goldie?"
"Goldie?" she asked in surprise. She hadn't spoken yet, and her voice sounded horrible: shaky and nervous and rough as if she hadn't spoken in a long time.
He acted as if he didn't discern anything wrong with how she sounded. He just lifted his free hand to her face. She flinched, but he only touched her Zapdos mask, tracing the very edge of the finely pressed gold. "It's real gold," he said, seeming a little surprised. He recovered quickly and the corners of his mouth pulled into a smirk. "So, Goldie. But I'd like to know the real name of the most enchanting dance partner I've ever had."
"So cocky, aren't you," Leaf deflected. She tried to sound teasing, but the rough edges of her voice made her words sound biting.
It didn't deter him. If anything, his smirk grew bigger. "Do you wear it because underneath you are ugly?" His mocking was playful. It came easily to him. She could tell he was the kind of person who was popular; he must have a lot of friends, and probably a lot of experience with the ladies.
"I wear it because none here are worthy of my real face," she answered, her tone a little too flat—because in a way, it was true.
"And you called me cocky." His knuckles dropped from her mask to her cheek, brushing the lightest caress across her skin.
She shivered, despite the warmth of the hall. His touch alighted something in her—a kernel of longing nestled deep in her stomach, just waiting for the right person to ignite it.
The very last note of the song played. It hung in the air for a moment, almost melancholy.
Before the room dipped into a second of silence preceding the next song, Leaf pulled out of his grasp.
"I'm Gary!" he called after her.
She didn't look back.
"Take this," May said, picking up a sprig of deep purple grapes. "How would you eat it?"
Dawn tilted her head as she examined it. "I would just pull one off the vine and eat it."
"Wro-ong!" May sung gleefully. "I am about to teach you something no self-respecting royal should ever learn!" She plucked a grape from the sprig and held it between her thumb and forefinger. "Do you trust me, Princess Dawn?"
Dawn smiled, amused. "You can just call me Dawn. We're the same rank, no need to add my title. And, yes, I trust you, May."
"Okay!" May nodded, a determined gleam entering her eyes. "Open your mouth, Dawn." She barely gave any warning before flicking her wrist. The grape flew from between her fingers toward Dawn's now open mouth.
Completely unprepared, Dawn didn't move as the grape closed in on her. It missed her mouth and bounced off her cheek, startling a gasp out of her.
The grape fell harmlessly to the floor, and May grinned sheepishly. "I don't have the best aim at throwing… I'm good at catching, though!"
Dawn looked confused for a moment, as if she was trying to understand what had just happened. May began to feel nervous, until a smile broke out on Dawn's face.
"You were right," Dawn said, wearing a mischievous grin. Now they they were standing by the buffet table and no longer on display for the whole room, Dawn wasn't covering her face with her fan anymore. May was glad. Although people still looked at them—they both wore extravagant dresses designed to draw attention—it was like Dawn's outer shield had come down a little bit. "No self-respecting royal should ever eat a grape that way."
For half a second, May gaped at her—alarmed that she might have overstepped a boundary.
Then Dawn pinched a grape from the vine and chucked it at May without warning.
With a delighted squeal, May dove mouth-first for the flying grape—and accidentally stepped on the hem of her dress, immediately tripping over herself and falling.
Distantly, she heard Dawn shriek. She flailed in the air for a suspended moment, and a thought entered her head: it was nice to be weightless, even if impending doom waited for her in the form of the ground smacking into her face.
Except, the impact never came. She'd closed her eyes instinctively, enjoying the feeling of finally being off her feet—but as actual seconds ticked by, she realised that someone had caught her before she could hit the ground.
Two strong hands were hooked under her arms, pulling her back up. For the most fleeting moment she wanted to yell No! Let me fall! It would at least give her an excuse to retire from the ball, even if it would be a horrible embarrassment to her mother.
Finding herself back on her feet, she looked up warily through her eyelashes at the person who had saved her. Immediately, her heart skipped a beat. It was him. The man with the green hair she'd noticed weaving through the crowd. Up close, she realised he also had green eyes—deep, glittering emerald green eyes that she would be happy to die gazing into. He was unfairly handsome, with soft yet sharp features. His hands moved to her waist, steadying her—and sending tingles throughout her body.
"Thank you," she said breathlessly. "You saved me."
All of a sudden, his expression changed. He pulled back his hands and his eyes became critical, examining her from head to foot.
"Are you really the princess of Hoenn? I fear for our region," he said mockingly.
May's lips parted soundlessly. Her temper was immediately riled, and her own demeanour changed in an instant.
"Hey, watch what you're saying! Who do you think you are?"
He crossed his arms over his chest, completely at ease. "You should be more careful, Princess. I might not be around to catch you the next time you choose to sacrifice yourself for a mere grape." The disdain in his tone darkened the scowl on her face.
"Who are you?" she repeated angrily. "You can't talk to me like that!"
He avoided the question and focused on the second thing she said. "Oh, yeah? Who's going to stop me?"
"I will. With my own Pokémon, if necessary!"
"May—" Dawn tried to interject, but her voice was distant to the fury roaring in May's ears.
"Don't make claims you can't back up," the emerald-haired stranger scoffed. "Don't you know Pokémon haven't been used in battles for years?"
"Of course I do," May hissed, getting angrier by the second. A crowd was beginning to gather around them, but she didn't care. "Perhaps I feel like breaking the rule just for you."
He arched his brow. "Who says I would agree to fight you? You're so clearly an amateur, it would be a waste of my talents."
"That's it!" May all but explode. "I challenge you to a battle. Here and now!"
She completely forgot that she didn't have her Pokémon on her. Over the last fifty or so years, the act of using Pokémon in battles had been slowly dying out. The last Pokémon battle had been about ten years ago. It wasn't a law or anything, that you couldn't have Pokémon battles, but talking about it was frowned upon… it was kind of an unspoken rule that it just wasn't what you did anymore.
"I don't accept." His emerald eyes narrowed in amusement and his mouth sat in a cruel smirk. "Embarrass yourself on your own time, Princess."
"How DARE you!" May screeched. She didn't care that the crowd around them was growing larger—that any moment, her mother could appear to drag her away and scold her. All that mattered was putting this arrogant, selfish jerk in his place. "I am the PRINCESS of HOENN! You can't speak to me like that!"
"Oh yeah?" He flicked his green fringe out of his eyes.
In the corner of her vision, May saw a couple courtiers swoon. It only infuriated her more. Yes, she had thought him handsome when she first saw him, but he was becoming less attractive by the second. It made her sick to think she had ever been charmed by him.
"I'll do you a favour and walk away now. Try not to trip on your own dress again when I'm not around." He tossed his last cocky sentence over his shoulder and he walked away, slipping his hands into his pockets: the very picture of carelessness.
"I don't need any favours from you, you—you—you—" May stuttered as she tried to think of a comeback, but he was gone, swallowed up by the crowd before she could come up with something.
She turned back to Dawn, furious. If she'd had another few seconds, she might have demanded that Dawn find out who the man was.
A sudden explosion completely wiped all thoughts of the arrogant emerald-eyed man from her mind.
Misty flinched and covered her ears as the main doors to the ballroom exploded. Around her, people screamed and dove to the floor for cover.
Misty remained standing, giving herself only enough time to mentally check she hadn't been hurt before she was scanning the room, her every sense alight with determination to find the cause of the explosion.
Since everyone else had ducked or thrown themselves to the floor, it was easy to see across the huge room. The doors were completely blown open, shards of wood sticking out of walls and—Misty swallowed the bile rising in her throat—people. She wasn't close enough to see whether any injuries were serious, but people began wailing and screaming in a mix of pain and fear.
The music had immediately stopped—it was a live band who had reacted along with everyone else—but the flashing lights continued to pulse, marring Misty's concentration a little. She wanted to yell at someone to turn on the main lights, but until she knew who had caused the explosion, she couldn't risk drawing attention to herself.
She sent one look toward her sisters' thrones. The Queens, and their royal guests, were all cowering but unharmed. As Misty watched, their guards were beginning to react. They would get the royalty quickly out of harm's way and then hunt down the cause of the explosion.
Misty had to move before the guards came for her. She broke into a run across the room, dodging the haphazard obstacles of fearful human bodies. She was to be the next Queen of Kanto—she could not show fear, and she could not let an enemy blast their way into her ballroom without finding them and bringing them to justice herself. It was a bad leader who hid behind their guards to do the hard shit.
As Misty rapidly drew closer to the empty space where doors used to be, a cloaked figure appeared in the void. Misty slowed her approach, close enough now to be able to see him properly and not wanting to run headfirst into a situation she didn't know enough about.
No-one else joined him. The cloaked figure appeared to be alone.
"Who are you?" Misty asked, close enough to not need to raise her voice. "What do you want?"
Her fingers itched to withdraw the poke ball she kept concealed under her dress, but she wasn't ready to reveal her hand just yet.
"Hn. A somewhat competent Princess," the figure muttered, almost as if he was speaking to himself—but Misty heard him.
"Yes, I am Princess Misty of Kanto," Misty declared, drawing herself up. "Tell me what the purpose of this is."
"So you can keep me talking long enough for your guards to sneak up behind me?" The figure chuckled darkly. "No."
Then what the fuck was the point of exploding our doors? Misty thought to herself irately.
Out loud, she said, "You have just committed treason by attacking your Queens and our royal guests. You will hang for your crimes."
The figure didn't answer. He just raised his hand.
Misty realised that another attack was coming.
This time, she dove to the ground and covered her head.
An icy wind whipped up from nowhere, and shards of sharp frozen snow began pelting the ground—and the people close to the exploded doors. Misty gritted her teeth under the barrage. The blizzard-like attack was painful, but wouldn't do much actual damage. She raised her head, taking care to shield her eyes from stray ice shards.
"The fall of the three is imminent," the cloaked figure muttered to himself.
Then he disappeared from Misty's sight.
It was a few minutes before guards dragged Misty from her spot on the ground. The blizzard worsened, trapping her there—the wind was too strong, the ice pelting her too sharp. She was certain there were small cuts on her exposed skin: her cheeks, nose, forehead, and arms.
As the guards pulled her to safety, she glanced back at the people still cowering on the floor, nobles and servants alike.
Many of them had wood sticking out of parts of their bodies, blood bubbling around the entrance wounds. Most seemed to be alive, but the last thing she saw before the guards dragged her out of view was a thick stake of wood impaling a lord she hadn't known well through the neck.
The bile returned to her throat, and she expelled it the second she was in a corridor alone save for her guards.
Whoever that cloaked figure had been, he would pay dearly for his crimes.
Misty hadn't seen his face, but she had noticed one thing—a thin strand of chin-length hair falling out from under his hood. Not enough to identify him, perhaps, but there had been something unusual about it.
It had been purple in colour.
Plum purple.
Author's Note: Hmmm... I wonder who that purple-haired attacker was? Leave a review if you want to find out in the next chapter!
Thank you for reading :)
~Jay