monthlysupergo | Fusion Fest: The Pokemon's Princess

Title: The Pokemon's Princess
Author: Katya Starling
Fandoms: Pocahontas/Pokemon
Characters/Pairing: Pocahontas, Grandmother Willow, Pokemon/Animals
Rating: G/K
Challenge/Prompt: Monthly Super Go: Fusion Fest
Word Count: 1,912
Date Written: 31 March 2020
Warnings: AU
Summary: Dangers are coming.
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to their rightful owners, not the author, and are used without permission.

The Indian Princess sighed as she slid off of her Tauros. She patted the Pokemon's furry neck with a hand gentler than any other he had ever known. "I'm sorry," she said, speaking in her native tongue though trusting he would understand her with ease, "for the quick ride, but I had to get us out of there." She pressed her lips to his neck, then closed her weary eyes with a sigh.

It seemed like her people, especially her father, would never understand her. Even her best friend, Nakoma, was in a whirlwind fit today because her little Meeko, the Furret now chasing his own ringed tail by her bare feet, had stolen part of her lunch. It wasn't as though it was Winter, she thought, her jaw setting with anger, and they had little food to go around. They had plenty, and Meeko had not caused any harm by stealing a few bites of fried bread.

After that ruckus, she had just needed to escape, and as always when faced with such a plight, she had fled to their great, great grandmother. "Go play," she whispered into Tauros' neck. She ruffled his bushy mane for a moment, then pushed him gently away and turned her back to him. Facing the oldest of the Trevenants, she fell to her knees beside her ancestor.

Grandmother Willow's vines came out and wrapped around the small girl. "Ah, my sweet Pocahontas, in trouble again?" she asked with all the care of a genuine grandmother. She hugged her through her veins, yearning with all her heart to be able to set her free from all the troubles that plagued her.

"Yes, Grandmother Willow," the Princess admitted with a heavy sigh. Her proud, albeit thin, shoulders sagged. She was far too young to have the weight of the world upon her shoulders, but her spirit felt just as heavy as it would when she eventually did hold that weight. Grandmother Willow's vines patted her as she silently sought a way not just to comfort her but to advise her as well.

Tiny paws suddenly grabbed one of her vines. "Fur fur!" Meeko exclaimed as he pawed at the moving, bright green things which he knew to be no more than meager leaves -- until Grandmother Willow smartly spanked him in the buttocks with one of her longer and stronger vines. "FUR FUR!" he bellowed, grabbing his rear end. He scrambled away to a bunch of actual grass, from which he proceeded to watch the old Trevenant. He rubbed his behind and glowered angrily at her.

The tree laughed; the Springtime breeze carried the gentle sound quickly throughout the forest. "You should respect your elders, young Furret."

Meeko continued to glower at her, but just about that time, she sensed a pair of beady eyes carefully watching one of the Pidgey's nests in her higher branches. She snapped a vine in warning at the Princess' other constant companion, Flit. "You would do well to heed my warning, young Murkrow, and leave those shiny feathers you've spied where they lay. Go near that nest again, and you will not have to worry about my son, Powhatten, again."

Pocahontas sighed at the sound of her father's name. "How do I make him happy?" she asked, looking up into Grandmother Willow's withered and caring face.

"Ah, my child," the ancient spirit said with a sigh, "it is not your place to make your father happy, nor was it your mother's though she never learned that. Powhatten must find his own happiness, as you must." She embraced Pocahontas again and ran vines tenderly down her hair, like a mother stroking her daughter's head. "What is it that makes you happy, my child?"

She shrugged. "Playing with my Pokemon."

"Is that it?"

"Everybody else wants to make them fight, or keep them in those tiny, horrid nuts, but I truly enjoy playing with them, Grandmother. I like to see them free and happy."

"Totodile! Totodile!" the smallest of the lot exclaimed, clapping his bluish green hands together.

"I do not understand much that the others believe, especially why it is so dangerous to allow them to run free. The Spirit who made us all made them alive and free. Why, it goes against nature to hold them captive in those ridiculous, tiny nuts!"

Grandmother Willow chuckled, but Pocahontas did not see anything funny in all she had just explained. She frowned up at her. "Why do you laugh? Why does everyone laugh at me, at us? We only want to be free and play. Why is there harm in that?"

"There is none, my dear," Grandmother Willow spoke assuredly, hugging her once more. "They simply fear what they do not understand, and you are right, the Pokenuts do give them a certain power to control the Pokemon although they were born to be free just as all creatures are."

"There will be an uprising one day -- " Pocahontas vowed.

"Oh, I am certain there will be, my dear, although I am not at all certain it shall come from the direction you expect."

"Whatever do you mean?" she asked, frowning, but instead of answering her directly, the old tree began to rub two of her high branches together.

She rubbed and rubbed until at last admitting, "I have a horrid itch, Pocahontas! Do you think you can reach it for me? Your fingernails may well do my old, withered bark far more good than my meager branches trying to scratch it."

"Of course, Grandmother." Pocahontas climbed into her high boughs and scratched her bark, moving higher and higher as the ancient spirit sighed and the wind breathed with her relief. Eventually, the Indian Princess found herself standing almost at the very top of her grandmother's highest branch. She gasped as she looked around her. She had seen the sight before, but it was always so beautiful.

"What do you see, my child?" Grandmother Willow asked.

There was so much she could see from where she now stood. She could see her father walking among the people and the warriors readying for another horrible hunt. She would rather they fight Pokemon battles for sport for at least then the Pokemon lived, but she knew they had to eat something. Berries and nuts were great sometimes, but they did little to fill ravishing bellies. Thankfully, most of the wild Pokemon seemed to have somehow come to sense that the hunters were about to be moving through their forest again and were running for their hiding spots.

Far above their heads she could see the great Fearow circling in the bright, blue sky. She also spied what looked like a tiny, green person flying closer to the Trevenants a few miles away. A Fearow cried out in surprise, and Pocahontas turned toward it just in time to see a strange, blue Pokemon sticking its head out of one of the clouds. "I've never seen that Pokemon before," she murmured softly to Grandmother Willow.

Her grandmother lifted her higher with her branches. "Look beyond them, my dear. What else do you see?"

"Great, white . . . " She frowned. " . . . clouds?" she asked, not at all certain of what she was seeing. She was made even less certain when the clouds in question turned and she could see their eyes and mouths. She gasped. "What are they?" she questioned, gaping openly at the sight.

"New Pokemon," Grandmother Willow told her, and Pocahontas could not decide if there was true gravity to the Trevenant's voice. A chill set goose bumps onto her dark skin. Her grandmother seemed almost to be warning her of something of which she did not really want to speak, but how could new Pokemon be a danger? "Pokemon are not threatening. They would leave us in peace if only we would leave them in peace. They already do except when bothered."

"I am well aware of that, my dear child, but with new Pokemon come new people -- "

Pocahontas shivered. " -- and new threats," she finished for her, suddenly understanding. "Murk! Murk!" Flit cawed. He swept down and landed on her shoulder. He bumped his black hat against her cheek, trying to soothe her rising nerves.

She had come to her grandmother for reassurance and to forget the problems of their world, but instead she was learning of new problems, new dangers . . . She sighed and trembled slightly. The Springtime weather seemed to have suddenly grown much colder. "Hopefully they will keep moving," she muttered darkly. "They should not stop here. We have nothing for them."

"Hopefully," Grandmother Willow agreed and drew Pocahontas down and closer still to her bark. She held her close in a hug. Her young Princess' arms tried in vain to go around her width as she struggled to return her hug to the best of her capability. "I doubt we have anything to fear from them," she assured her, but Pocahontas was already wise beyond her years.

Those travelers might not stop. She might never see those particular new Pokemon again, but others would come. One day strange Pokemon, and strange trainers, would come into her village. One day they would face far graver dangers than just her father and the village folk, not even Nakoma, understanidng her desire for all Pokemon to be free. One day, they would be faced with great dangers. She shivered as she stepped back onto the ground. "Can I stay with you tonight, Grandmother Willow?" she asked humbly.

"You can stay until sunset, my dear, but after that, your father would worry too much."

She sniffed in disdain. "I'd be surprised if he even missed me."

"Oh, he would, Pocahontas, very much."

"Fine," she relented and laid down beside her. Furret and Totodile had set to chasing each other in play, but Flit nestled in on her shoulder. She slipped her fingers underneath his hat and scratched the place on top of his feathered head that always itched. Dangers would come, but she'd still have her Pokemon. Together, they could handle anything. She sighed as she admitted, even if only to herself, that that, at this point of her life, was far more of a hope than a firm belief.

"Fur fur?" Meeko called. He stopped playing with Totodile so swiftly that the other Pokemon slammed into his furry back. He fell slightly forward but caught himself on his front paws. He looked at his Princess in great concern. "Fur fur!" he called again before racing across the grass and into her arms.

"It's okay, Meeko," Pocahontas whispered, rubbing her face against his. She leaned forward and kissed first his head and then Totodile's and finally Flit's. "It's okay," she assured them all. "Everything is fine, and we are and will remain safe. You have nothing to worry about."

Grandmother Willow smiled through the sheen that suddenly glistened on her face. Tiny droplets of rain fell in her high branches. Times were changing, but already, her sweet, regal Pocahontas was showing her promise as a Princess. She could lead them all through the troubled times that would come, if only Powhatten would listen to her, but the old tree already knew. Powhatten feared things that were different, and he would not listen to his daughter. He would not listen to a woman. She sighed into the rising breeze and held her children close while she could.

The End