Pokemon Fan Fiction / Pokemon Fan Fiction ❯ Kaleidoscope ❯ Chapter 3

Kaleidoscope: 2

Southern England, 1555

Misty woke the next morning, already smiling. She knew exactly how she wanted to spend her day.

"Uncle Albert!" Misty wailed, as she ran into her Aunt and Uncle's suite. Duke Albert had always had a soft spot for her.

"Dear Heavens, child! What's the matter?" he answered, astonished.

"All my servants and helpers are busy getting the Harvest Feast set up, and I need one!!"

"Of course you do my dear! Good Lord - how many servants does your stepfather employ? Must not be many I assume. Now dear, go down to the kitchen, and my personal Squire Ashton shall stay with you today. Now…is that better sweet child?"

"Much… God bless you Uncle Albert!"

~*~

"Now, which one of you is my uncle's Squire Ashton?" Ash heard the now familiar voice, and stared at Misty in confusion. Surely she couldn't have forgotten him already. He'd barely been able to sleep all night - although granted it was partly because Brock talked in his sleep and Ash was used to hearing his questionable dreams in great detail, but mainly because he just couldn't get her off his mind. Misty caught his eye, and winked at him.

"Erm, I am milady."

"Good!" she began, her eyes shining mischievously at him. "My uncle wishes for you to be my manservant today. Come along now, make haste!

"Yes Ma'am!"

~*~

Ash and Misty spent the day lolling around in the woods behind the Manor. Misty was so relieved at having someone to talk to. She had always craved for friendship, and companionship - as had Ash in a different way. He was simply happy at having found someone on his own wavelength - someone who wasn't bothered about titles and money - even though she had both and he did not.

Ash and Misty told each other everything about their lives - holding nothing back. They both knew that they had a rare resource in the fact that they connected so well. Also unsaid, yet mutually dwelled upon was the fact that they did not know when they would next see each other.

During the day, Ash's eyes keep creeping back to Misty's face. At the Aylesbury Manor, he saw countless "Ladies", each in more spectacular attire and makeup than the last; but he'd never seen anyone like Misty. She was simply beautiful - like a confused 7-year-old him had though upon first meeting her. He didn't know what it was that drew him to her so; maybe it was because she didn't act like she was made of precious jewels, and was the first lady to ever see him as a person, and not the hired help.

Ash wondered. He was still far too young to understand what was being to grow inside him, but he was already thinking ahead. He was already wondering if Misty would like him more if he were knighted by her Uncle for high service…

~*~

The two of them lay on a blanket of fallen leaves, the crowns of their heads barely touching as they silently observed the purpling evening sky. Misty felt Ash rouse, and sat up too, grinning at him through sleepy eyes as she smoothed down the hem of her gown. Ash grinned back, as he mischievously attempted to rumple the pale silk again. She quickly manoeuvred her legs to foil him. Ash sighed inaudibly, as he watched her stand, the silk of her overdress cascading past her hips and the hem settling by her ankles.

"I need to wash before the feast," she murmured, her eyes creasing slightly as she looked back in the direction of the manor house. "Oh spite, back to lessons tomorrow," she mildly cursed, her fingertips already beginning to ache with the prospect of three hours of embroidery. She felt Ash rise obediently behind her and smiled. Her free days of leisure were few and far between, but she was glad she had spent one with him.

They were halfway to the manor house before Ash realised that Misty had slipped her arm around his, and he was leading her through the twilight gardens like a gentleman suitor. Without dwelling on it, he lifted his free hand and placed it on her bare forearm, like he had seen his master do when walking with the Duchess Emilia. She was cold under his coarse palm but she did not object.

The two walked in a companionable silence until they approached the back gates and Misty slipped from him like water.

"God save you friend. I shall see you at the feast," were her last words before hurrying self-consciously towards the kitchen steps. Ash didn't watch her go. He felt her absence on his skin; he knew they would never speak again.