Chapter Text
He met her at the café.
Jareth always went to the same one after a day of battles where he’d turned away more challengers than had managed to defeat him. It wasn’t for nothing that he was considered one of the toughest Gym Leaders—most young trainers gave up on their dream of becoming Champion there. Jareth didn’t think of himself as cruel, only efficient at his job: if they couldn’t beat him, they wouldn’t stand a chance against the Champion.
It wasn’t love at first sight.
In fact, Jareth barely noticed her at first. A new waitress, yes, but in his favorite café, staff came and went all the time. Seeing a new face wasn’t exactly an event.
So that first afternoon, he hardly paid her any mind beyond recognizing the new girl behind the counter.
On the second day, she served him his tea with a polite smile and spared Lucario a brief glance, just a second longer than necessary before walking away.
It wasn’t until the sixth day that she truly made herself known.
It happened when a customer tried to force a Hariyama through the café door. She intercepted him immediately, abandoning the coffee she’d been halfway through making.
“Hey—what are you doing? You don’t fit. Stay still before you break the door down.”
“The door should be wider,” the trainer complained.
She crossed her arms.
“Take that up with the architects. I didn’t build the place. But I’m not about to let you wreck it either.”
The trainer didn’t like that answer, but at least his Hariyama stayed put.
“The door should be bigger. Why can other people come in with their Pokémon but I can’t?”
“Because theirs fit through the door and yours doesn’t,” she replied, stating the obvious. “You can put it in its Poké Ball.”
“I’m not doing that.” The man started raising his voice. “I’ll file a complaint. Hariyama, get ready to battle!”
Jareth began to stand. He wasn’t one for battles outside the Gym, but he wasn’t about to let that trainer overstep with the girl—who didn’t even seem to have a Pokémon of her own.
But she moved first.
“No. We’re not battling, we’re not breaking doors, and we’re not shouting. If you don’t like how we do things here, you’re free to find another café.”
And just like that, she pushed the trainer outside, with a Hariyama who looked almost as surprised as he did.
“What—?! You can’t— You—”
The waitress barely paid attention to his protests and shut the door in his face. And whether it was the embarrassment of walking back in, or the fact that he’d just been put in his place by a young woman who didn’t seem to care all that much, the trainer didn’t try to enter again.
Jareth sat down again, exchanging a look with Lucario.
“…Huh.”
Lucario nodded. Huh.
It was the first time Jareth thought the girl couldn’t be that much younger than him. A couple of years, maybe.
The next day, when he ordered his usual tea and a treat for Lucario, Jareth dared to share more than just polite small talk.
“The trainer who caused trouble yesterday—the one with the Hariyama—came to my Gym today. I beat him.”
She paused, looking at him.
“You’re the Gym Leader down the road, right?”
Jareth felt a faint sting to his pride. He was used to being recognized, at least here in town. It was hard not to. He was the town’s pride, drew trainers from across the region, and in the Pokémon League people talked about how not just anyone could beat him. How, past Jareth, only the best remained.
“Yes, that’s me,” he replied, with a naturalness that might have been just slightly forced. Lucario looked at him, but Jareth ignored him. “I’m sure you’ve seen me before.”
“Yes, of course. I’ve heard customers mention you. But I wanted to be sure.”
“Haven’t you seen the League broadcasts?”
She shrugged lightly, a small smile on her lips.
“I’m not really into battles. Honestly, I—”
She stopped when another waiter gestured for her.
“Sorry.”
She went off to attend to whatever her coworker needed… and didn’t come back.
The worst part wasn’t that she dismissed him, or that she was rude, or tried to seem interesting in front of him. The worst part was her natural indifference. She had things to do, work to carry on with, and that was exactly what she did. If she didn’t return, it was because she was busy with other customers, other tasks, and she treated Jareth… like just another customer.
It wasn’t that Jareth expected special treatment. He’d never been particularly arrogant. But he was used to people lingering on him a little longer than usual, asking about his work, about battles, about Lucario.
No, Jareth didn’t expect special treatment—but maybe, just maybe, a bit more attention than the average customer.
Looking back, he should have known what he was getting himself into.
But it wasn’t love at first sight—not that first day when he noticed the new waitress, nor the one when she left their conversation halfway through without bothering to pick it back up.
It was something much slower. More restrained.
She didn’t show any more interest in Jareth than she did in any other customer, but he came to that café almost every day, and conversations inevitably began between them. Some of which, Jareth would note, she abandoned whenever she was needed elsewhere.
He still remembers how Lucario’s eyes would gleam with amusement every time she left him mid-sentence.
In time, Jareth learned her name was Annelise. Sophisticated, he thought. Beautiful.
He also learned that she did have a Pokémon, a Sylveon—but, as she told him, she had barely ever battled with him.
That was something Jareth respected. He knew there were many people who never bothered training their Pokémon or battling with them. Still, as a Gym Leader who faced trainers daily, someone with no interest whatsoever in battling felt… strange.
When he asked why she didn’t bring her Sylveon to the café, her answer was:
“Why would he want to be here?”
Jareth didn’t press the matter.
Over time, he also got to see more of Annelise’s personality. Not that she hid it—Arceus knew she didn’t—and that stubborn trainer with the Hariyama had been proof enough. But in general, Annelise presented herself as a kind waitress, so some less regular customers were caught off guard when she firmly put someone in their place, leaving them with no room to argue.
Jareth found himself more and more entertained watching Annelise put difficult customers in their place.
One day, Jareth realized it was Annelise, not any of her coworkers, who usually attended to him. That hadn’t been the case before… had it?
“Hey, Lucario,” Jareth murmured one evening as they walked home. “Have you noticed Annelise comes over to us more than she used to? She’s usually the one taking our order, always finding a moment to talk to us. She even asks about battles, and she says she doesn’t like them. She hardly ever leaves conversations halfway through anymore, either.”
“Rio,” the Pokémon nodded, then looked at his trainer with a knowing glint in his eyes. “Luc? Cario?”
“What? No, it’s not like I care that much. Just an observation.”
“Lucario,” his voice carried a certain smugness.
“Stop looking at me like that. And don’t try reading my aura or I’m sending you back into your Poké Ball.”
A few months had passed since that first day Jareth met her. That afternoon, he had to meet with the Pokémon League to discuss something about the new tournament. He always let the café know if he wouldn’t be coming the next day. But this time, he didn’t, assuming the meeting would end quickly.
A wrong assumption.
By the time they got out, the sky had already gone dark.
“It’ll be closed,” Jareth said, though that didn’t stop him from making his way toward the café.
Why, if he knew perfectly well they’d closed ten minutes ago? They never opened at night, Jareth knew the schedule. And yet there they were, climbing the hill toward the place.
Jareth’s heart most definitely did not speed up when he saw a certain someone by the door, and he most definitely ignored Lucario’s look.
“Well, look who finally honors us with their presence!” But Annelise was smiling.
Jareth found himself smiling back.
“Sorry, I got held up with the League, and… oh.”
His smile widened. At Annelise’s feet stood a Pokémon, the Sylveon she had mentioned several times before.
Her face lit up.
“This is Sylveon. Remember I told you about him?”
Of course Jareth remembered. He remembered everything she told him.
“Yes, you mentioned him. Hello, Sylveon. It’s nice to finally meet you.”
Sylveon looked at the newcomers with interest, though the kind that reminded Jareth of Annelise herself: mildly curious, but not particularly concerned either way.
As the smaller Pokémon approached Lucario, Jareth noticed the paper cup in Annelise’s hands. When she caught his gaze, her face lit up again.
“I saved this for you,” she said, stepping closer and handing him the cup—gently, but without ceremony.
“Uh?”
Yes, that was not his most brilliant response.
“I figured you’d come. You didn’t say otherwise yesterday. So here—your tea. It’s already half cold because you took so long, but, well… that’s on you for being late.”
That might have been when Jareth realized he had fallen in love with her.
Or maybe it was the following week, when he saw Annelise among the crowd, watching one of his battles.
Or perhaps it was when, after leaving the café to continue her training as a cook, she asked to stay in touch. Or, of course, the moment she said yes to a relationship with him.
What Jareth does know is that he was already deeply in love by the time he chose to walk away from official battles and step down as a Gym Leader, when Annelise stayed by his side the whole time, holding him close that night he regretted his decision, and through all those days when she supported him, reassured him, and helped him find his new path as a ranger.
At least, that’s what Jareth said at their wedding. That, and everything they had shared together up until that day—the day the former Gym Leader didn’t bother hiding his tears. Even Lucario seemed affected, no matter how much he tried to pretend otherwise.
Now it’s Jareth who makes tea for Annelise. Though she’s still the one who leaves their conversations halfway through.
“Careful, it’s hot,” he murmurs, handing her the cup.
Annelise takes it in her hands, blowing softly across the surface.
“Thanks. Did you add sugar?”
“Of course I added sugar.” Jareth sounds almost offended. When had he ever forgotten to add sugar to Annelise’s tea?
He sits behind her, settling comfortably so she can lean back against his chest. Jareth wraps his arms around her, one hand resting at her side while the other moves lower, careful not to disturb Sylveon in her lap. His fingers slide down until they come to rest on Annelise’s stomach.
“Did you feel that?” she whispers after a few moments.
“Yes,” he answers.
He adjusts his hand, searching… until he feels the movement again. Jareth smiles, burying his face in his wife’s neck as he feels another little kick against his palm.
“Lucario, do you want to feel it? He, or she, is very active.”
“We could know whether it’s a she or a he,” he teases lightly. “If someone didn’t want to wait and see for herself.”
Annelise ignores him and looks at Lucario, who approaches as if to say, well, alright, if it makes you happy. He’s fooling no one, ever since Annelise got pregnant, he’s been more attentive to her than usual.
Lucario gently presses a paw against her stomach, knowing exactly where the movement is. His ears flick back when the baby kicks again—this time stronger—and Sylveon shifts one of his ribbons, resting it beside Lucario’s hand.
From that day when he barely noticed her, from that afternoon when she first showed her true character, from that night when she waited for him with a cup of tea gone cold…
It wasn’t love at first sight, no—and Jareth couldn’t say exactly when he fell in love with her. But what he does know is that every single day, he’s grateful to Annelise for stepping into his life and becoming part of it, filling it with a spark so different from battles, and a thousand times brighter.