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Toriel waded through the stale air of her old home. New Home. New, a hundred years ago—and it hadn’t changed since.
The same creaking floorboard that Chara had stepped on, alerting her to their midnight chocolate thievery. The same desk in Asgore’s room, the same large words still drying in his diary.
“Nice day today!”
A single tear dripped down her snout, blotting out the letter o.
It wasn’t a nice day today. Asgore would never have a nice day again.
Her stomach twisted. She quietly shut the bedroom door behind her. Her search hadn’t revealed the key to her old room. Had that been the one memory that her ex husband had decided to discard?
She was tempted to allow the key to remain hidden, even if it still existed. She didn’t want to see her old room coated in dust—even the normal, non-monster kind.
But she had a duty. She had put it off for long enough.
As she passed through the hall (creak) and into the kitchen, she did have to confront what few things had changed. The golden flowers throughout the empty house. The crumpled recipes in the trash.
The photos pinned to the fridge—some of which included monsters that she hadn’t seen before.
Of course, Asgore had friends. He had always been popular, even before he’d married into the royal family. It shouldn’t surprise her that his life had gone on in some small way, even if the rest of the house had stagnated.
She plucked one photo from under a snail-shaped magnet, squinting. She’d neglected her reading glasses in her haste to… well. She’d retrieve them later. She could make out the image well enough.
Asgore’s hand rested on the shoulder of a young fish monster. The girl’s fins flared, her proud grin showing off bright yellow teeth. Under one arm she held a metal helmet, in her other, a glowing cyan spear.
A spear just like the one that struck the photo from her hand, piercing it back to the fridge.
Toriel spun, flames blazing to life in her hands. She wouldn’t let the kingdom lose two monarchs in one day.
“Don’t touch that,” the monster standing in the kitchen doorway growled.
Toriel didn’t glance back to the photo. Despite the eyepatch that hadn’t been present in the picture, it was clear that this intruder was the same monster—so, perhaps she was not an intruder at all.
“What were you going to do, huh?” The fish monster snarled, her armor clanking as she stepped forward. “Tear down all of his photos? Erase him from your memories, like he was never here at all?”
Toriel’s brow furrowed. She extinguished her flames, and as the other monster’s spear flickered out, she pinned the photo back with the magnet.
“There is a tear, I’m afraid,” Toriel said calmly, brushing her thumb over the slit the spear had left behind. “Did my ex husband encourage throwing weapons in his house?”
“What?” The other monster gaped, her facial fins limp.
“I had not thought he would change so completely, but perhaps I should stop thinking that I can still understand him.” Toriel shook her head, then turned to face her. “You were in his Royal Guard, were you not?”
“Am,” she insisted. “I am in his Royal Guard. I’m Captain Undyne.”
Toriel’s lips pursed. Captain. Of course Asgore would have promoted someone so reckless.
“Straighten your armor,” Toriel ordered.
“Huh—?”
Toriel stepped forward, adjusting Undyne’s shoulder plates, her girdle, her vambraces.
“Did Asgore let his guards go into battle so sloppily dressed?” Toriel asked.
Her paws brushed over pockmarks in Undyne’s chestplate. How many of those were the product of age?
How many were the work of the child she had protected?
“I—I rushed to get here as soon as I heard; I didn’t have time to—I don’t have to explain myself to you!” Undyne smacked Toriel’s hands away.
It shouldn’t have come as a shock. Toriel didn’t know Undyne—and it seemed like her loyalty was more personal than national.
“Of course you do not. You do not have to serve me, either.” Toriel folded her hands in front of her.
It would have been nice to have a connection among the people, but she didn’t need it. She could handle herself.
The intense rejection still stung.
“You’re—firing me?” Undyne burst. “I don’t care if you were the original queen! I don’t care if Asgore still loved you! You—you don’t deserve to come back!”
Toriel blinked. She couldn’t be surprised. Surely other citizens would share the same sentiment.
“You are right. I do not deserve it.”
She’d been as much of a coward as her husband ever was. She had left the weight of the crown with him, even if she’d seen no other choice at the time.
“However,” Toriel continued, “I am here. And I intend to do my job properly, this time.”
She took the photo back off of the fridge and held it out to the captain. The captain who, in another life, might have been her friend as well.
“I believe you would appreciate this more than I will.”
Undyne stared at the photo, her one yellow eye wide. Then she snatched it from Toriel’s hand.
“You can’t replace him,” she said, her voice low. “The Underground will never have a better monarch than Asgore Dreemurr.”
Undyne stormed out of the room, her disheveled armor clanging. The stomps stopped somewhere in the living room.
“…I guess you’ll appreciate this more than I will,” she grumbled.
Toriel heard something metal clatter against the wooden floor. She peaked out from behind the doorframe and saw her bedroom key on the ground.
Undyne slammed the front door behind her. She hadn’t stepped on the creaking board on her way out.