❝i'm much too proud; all you do is fill me up with doubt❞
an evolving relationship | pokémon | 1300 words | lance ; clair | pg-13 |
in which two members of one family take different routes and end up in the same place.
set before game canon.
An Evolving Relationship
She would never forgive him for evolving his Dragonair.
Clair and Lance had been children, ten years old, playing in the Dragon’s Den when they had caught their first Dratini together. At first their grandfather had been upset, catching them there-but then he had seen the Pokéballs clutched in their hands, and realized what had occurred. And then he had been nothing but proud that his two most promising grandchildren had caught their first dragon Pokémon.
They had become his direct apprentices after that, Ace Trainers with a mission to become the best dragon-type trainers in Johto. Clair had taken better to battling; Lance was a master when it came to raising Pokémon. A strong rivalry and a stronger affection had sustained their relationship throughout the next few years as they competed, supported, and commiserated with one another.
And then, Lance betrayed everything by going on ahead. By evolving his Dragonair before Clair’s was ready to, and leaving her behind.
›››‹‹‹
“I take it you’re still upset with me,” Lance said in his controlled, staid voice as he entered the gym. Clair stood on the dais, her expression fierce as she crossed her arms over her chest and regarded her cousin coolly.
“I am Clair, gym leader of Blackthorn Gym,” she said in her rehearsed, regal voice. “The world’s dragon master. Do you still want to take me on?”
“Clair,” Lance said with an incredulous laugh. “Come on, you don’t have to be so formal with me.”
“Are you a challenger or not?” she barked at him with a sharp flourish of her cape.
Lance’s expression sobered as he answered. “I am.”
“Then shut the hell up and prepare to battle.”
›››‹‹‹
As Clair’s Kingdra crashed against the battlefield with a deafening thud, the gym leader fell to her knees. “K-Kingdra, return,” she murmured as the red light surrounded her signature Pokémon. As Kingdra disappeared, Lance approached Clair, hands in his pockets.
“It was a good battle, Clair,” he said frankly. “And a hard one.”
“You know,” Clair said, as though she hadn’t heard him, “I’ve been a gym leader for three years, and in all that time, I’ve never been beaten.”
“I should hope not,” Lance returned slyly. “After all, you were the only one who could ever beat me. If anyone else beat you, it would sort of belie my own skills.”
Clair gave her cousin one long, hard look. “You diversified,” she stated calmly. He nodded. “No longer a purely dragon-type master,” she said with a sigh.
“It was mostly Dragonite’s doing,” Lance admitted. “I couldn’t have done it without him. And speaking of which, Clair, your Dragonair…”
“What about it?” Clair asked sharply.
“Isn’t it past due to evolve?”
“That’s hardly any of your business, Lance,” she snapped. Lowering her gaze, she extended one had towards him. “Take it-the Rising Badge.”
“Thanks, Clair.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” she snapped. “I swear, Lance, if you don’t beat the Elite Four after this, I will personally kill you.”
“You could have given me no better motivation.”
›››‹‹‹
She would have never admitted it to anyone, but she followed the rest of his journey obsessively as he travelled through Victory Road and challenged the Elite Four. She had been keeping tabs on him since he left Blackthorn City the first time, of course-as he attained seven gym badges before making his way home. Now that he had defeated her, however, Clair’s interest became an fixation; she had to know the outcome of his every battle almost as soon as it was completed.
“You know, he hasn’t lost yet,” one of her Ace Trainers muttered to her one evening, just after Lance defeated Bruno.
“And?” Clair returned acidly, “What’s your point?”
“He’s probably not going to lose,” the trainer replied. “He might actually become the champion.”
“I trained beside him myself in the Dragon’s Den,” Clair said smugly. “If anyone can become champion, it’s Lance.”
Her Dragonair, coiled at her feet, lifted its head intently. Clair patted it absently, distracted by the news coverage of the “Exciting Newcomer from Blackthorn City.”
›››‹‹‹
It was impossibly cold and frigid that night that Lance returned to Blackthorn City. Clair was deep within the Dragon’s Den, her eyes shut tight and her bare feet dangling into the lake as her Dragonair swam around her.
“Mind if I interrupt?” Lance asked, his voice sounding deeper and more mature than it had even a few weeks earlier.
Clair blinked open one eye. “There’s no point in asking now that you already have.”
Lance laughed, shed his boots, and sat down on the ledge beside her. His Dragonite floated into the water next to Clair’s Dragonair, which stiffened primly and turned away.
“I suppose congratulations are in order,” Clair murmured after a moment’s silence. “You finally did it, Mr. Champion.”
“I guess I did, didn’t I?” Lance said with a brash smile. “Thanks.”
“So, what now? You just wait around for someone to challenge you and take the title?”
“I think I wait to defend it,” Lance responded. “And I don’t think I give it up so easily.”
Perhaps it was the mystical quality of the Den, or something in one of them, but eventually the stiff awkwardness became too much and Clair softened, leaning her head against her cousin’s shoulder.
“You really did well, you know,” Clair said. “Grandfather says you’re practically a genius.”
“…‘Practically’…?” Lance echoed. He laughed and wrapped one arm around Clair’s shoulders.
“Don’t be an ass,” she muttered.
“I’ll try,” he said, quietly and with intensity.
›››‹‹‹
Clair awoke the next morning wrapped in her cape and little else. Her thick, pale hair was mussed over her face, and her Dragonair peered at her intently. Blinking groggily, Clair rose to her feet and began redressing in the garments that had been shed in a flurry of passion and limbs the night before.
And Lance? He was nowhere to be found.
“Damn it,” she hissed. “He left me behind, again.”
›››‹‹‹
With the freedom that comes with championship, Lance is not tied to one city all the time the way Clair is. So she is forced to wait for his returns, which are few and far between, and never very consistent. He shows up on her birthday, or his, or just whenever, and smiles in his brash, confident way, and expects her to take him back with open arms.
Which, of course, she does.
And then, one night, lying with his arms wrapped around her, he says, “I bet you think you’re very clever.”
“I know I am,” she says immediately. “But what, exactly, are you talking about?”
“Your Dragonair is holding an Ever Stone,” he growls. “It probably always has been.”
“Probably,” she returns idly.
“How long?”
“Since the day your Dragonite evolved,” she says quietly.
He doesn’t even ask the question, just holds her a little further away from him and locks his gaze with hers.
“I…I wanted to preserve it,” she says softly, but passionately. “What we had, before. When we were both the same, on a level playing field. Equals. Your Dragonite-and you-you surpassed me before I had the chance to realize it. And so I decided that I’d never evolve my Dragonair, because that would mean giving up the last thing that tied us together.”
“So it was either evolve together with mine, or not at all?”
She nods, a bit abashed.
Suddenly he laughs, and she blushes scarlet in the low light. “What?” she demands hotly.
“Nothing,” he says, his laughter dying down as he pulls her close. “I just never would have guessed that you were so sentimental.”
“Idiot,” she hisses at him, but she wraps her arms around him, and holds him as though she’ll never let go.
in which two members of one family take different routes and end up in the same place.
set before game canon.
An Evolving Relationship
She would never forgive him for evolving his Dragonair.
Clair and Lance had been children, ten years old, playing in the Dragon’s Den when they had caught their first Dratini together. At first their grandfather had been upset, catching them there-but then he had seen the Pokéballs clutched in their hands, and realized what had occurred. And then he had been nothing but proud that his two most promising grandchildren had caught their first dragon Pokémon.
They had become his direct apprentices after that, Ace Trainers with a mission to become the best dragon-type trainers in Johto. Clair had taken better to battling; Lance was a master when it came to raising Pokémon. A strong rivalry and a stronger affection had sustained their relationship throughout the next few years as they competed, supported, and commiserated with one another.
And then, Lance betrayed everything by going on ahead. By evolving his Dragonair before Clair’s was ready to, and leaving her behind.
›››‹‹‹
“I take it you’re still upset with me,” Lance said in his controlled, staid voice as he entered the gym. Clair stood on the dais, her expression fierce as she crossed her arms over her chest and regarded her cousin coolly.
“I am Clair, gym leader of Blackthorn Gym,” she said in her rehearsed, regal voice. “The world’s dragon master. Do you still want to take me on?”
“Clair,” Lance said with an incredulous laugh. “Come on, you don’t have to be so formal with me.”
“Are you a challenger or not?” she barked at him with a sharp flourish of her cape.
Lance’s expression sobered as he answered. “I am.”
“Then shut the hell up and prepare to battle.”
›››‹‹‹
As Clair’s Kingdra crashed against the battlefield with a deafening thud, the gym leader fell to her knees. “K-Kingdra, return,” she murmured as the red light surrounded her signature Pokémon. As Kingdra disappeared, Lance approached Clair, hands in his pockets.
“It was a good battle, Clair,” he said frankly. “And a hard one.”
“You know,” Clair said, as though she hadn’t heard him, “I’ve been a gym leader for three years, and in all that time, I’ve never been beaten.”
“I should hope not,” Lance returned slyly. “After all, you were the only one who could ever beat me. If anyone else beat you, it would sort of belie my own skills.”
Clair gave her cousin one long, hard look. “You diversified,” she stated calmly. He nodded. “No longer a purely dragon-type master,” she said with a sigh.
“It was mostly Dragonite’s doing,” Lance admitted. “I couldn’t have done it without him. And speaking of which, Clair, your Dragonair…”
“What about it?” Clair asked sharply.
“Isn’t it past due to evolve?”
“That’s hardly any of your business, Lance,” she snapped. Lowering her gaze, she extended one had towards him. “Take it-the Rising Badge.”
“Thanks, Clair.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” she snapped. “I swear, Lance, if you don’t beat the Elite Four after this, I will personally kill you.”
“You could have given me no better motivation.”
›››‹‹‹
She would have never admitted it to anyone, but she followed the rest of his journey obsessively as he travelled through Victory Road and challenged the Elite Four. She had been keeping tabs on him since he left Blackthorn City the first time, of course-as he attained seven gym badges before making his way home. Now that he had defeated her, however, Clair’s interest became an fixation; she had to know the outcome of his every battle almost as soon as it was completed.
“You know, he hasn’t lost yet,” one of her Ace Trainers muttered to her one evening, just after Lance defeated Bruno.
“And?” Clair returned acidly, “What’s your point?”
“He’s probably not going to lose,” the trainer replied. “He might actually become the champion.”
“I trained beside him myself in the Dragon’s Den,” Clair said smugly. “If anyone can become champion, it’s Lance.”
Her Dragonair, coiled at her feet, lifted its head intently. Clair patted it absently, distracted by the news coverage of the “Exciting Newcomer from Blackthorn City.”
›››‹‹‹
It was impossibly cold and frigid that night that Lance returned to Blackthorn City. Clair was deep within the Dragon’s Den, her eyes shut tight and her bare feet dangling into the lake as her Dragonair swam around her.
“Mind if I interrupt?” Lance asked, his voice sounding deeper and more mature than it had even a few weeks earlier.
Clair blinked open one eye. “There’s no point in asking now that you already have.”
Lance laughed, shed his boots, and sat down on the ledge beside her. His Dragonite floated into the water next to Clair’s Dragonair, which stiffened primly and turned away.
“I suppose congratulations are in order,” Clair murmured after a moment’s silence. “You finally did it, Mr. Champion.”
“I guess I did, didn’t I?” Lance said with a brash smile. “Thanks.”
“So, what now? You just wait around for someone to challenge you and take the title?”
“I think I wait to defend it,” Lance responded. “And I don’t think I give it up so easily.”
Perhaps it was the mystical quality of the Den, or something in one of them, but eventually the stiff awkwardness became too much and Clair softened, leaning her head against her cousin’s shoulder.
“You really did well, you know,” Clair said. “Grandfather says you’re practically a genius.”
“…‘Practically’…?” Lance echoed. He laughed and wrapped one arm around Clair’s shoulders.
“Don’t be an ass,” she muttered.
“I’ll try,” he said, quietly and with intensity.
›››‹‹‹
Clair awoke the next morning wrapped in her cape and little else. Her thick, pale hair was mussed over her face, and her Dragonair peered at her intently. Blinking groggily, Clair rose to her feet and began redressing in the garments that had been shed in a flurry of passion and limbs the night before.
And Lance? He was nowhere to be found.
“Damn it,” she hissed. “He left me behind, again.”
›››‹‹‹
With the freedom that comes with championship, Lance is not tied to one city all the time the way Clair is. So she is forced to wait for his returns, which are few and far between, and never very consistent. He shows up on her birthday, or his, or just whenever, and smiles in his brash, confident way, and expects her to take him back with open arms.
Which, of course, she does.
And then, one night, lying with his arms wrapped around her, he says, “I bet you think you’re very clever.”
“I know I am,” she says immediately. “But what, exactly, are you talking about?”
“Your Dragonair is holding an Ever Stone,” he growls. “It probably always has been.”
“Probably,” she returns idly.
“How long?”
“Since the day your Dragonite evolved,” she says quietly.
He doesn’t even ask the question, just holds her a little further away from him and locks his gaze with hers.
“I…I wanted to preserve it,” she says softly, but passionately. “What we had, before. When we were both the same, on a level playing field. Equals. Your Dragonite-and you-you surpassed me before I had the chance to realize it. And so I decided that I’d never evolve my Dragonair, because that would mean giving up the last thing that tied us together.”
“So it was either evolve together with mine, or not at all?”
She nods, a bit abashed.
Suddenly he laughs, and she blushes scarlet in the low light. “What?” she demands hotly.
“Nothing,” he says, his laughter dying down as he pulls her close. “I just never would have guessed that you were so sentimental.”
“Idiot,” she hisses at him, but she wraps her arms around him, and holds him as though she’ll never let go.