Mountain Song

	“Ok, if memory serves me right, the trail levels out after these next two bends,” Asgore said, looking at the dusty pathway up the mountain as if it were a map. The sun was riding high and golden now in a serene country with floors of trees. “Once we hit that, it’s nice and level for half a mile, then we’ll be coming up to the lake. How’re you doing back there, Tori?” He stopped and peered behind him for the first time in a while, but didn’t see his hiking partner. “... Tori?”

	Huffing and puffing, the old queen finally came into view, her eyes struggling to stay open as sweat drenched her brow, holding onto the straps of her backpack for dear life. Her tongue hung out of her mouth, panting as her wobbly legs struggled up the grade of the trail. She was wearing a windbreaker that was far more fitting for walking around town than up a mountain, especially when there wasn’t a breeze to block in this altitude. Her paws were stained brown from the dust, and even though they were used to the hard floor of the ruins, they certainly hadn’t been conditioned for the rocky climb Asgore had persuaded her to go on. She was kicking herself for not investing enough into this trip.

	“Hold on… a moment,” she gasped, struggling to put one foot in front of the other until she could lean against Asgore. He chuckled as all of her weight was relying him to stay up straight, making sure she didn’t tumble down the mountain. Her face was smushed against his chest, staining his shirt with moisture and noisily taking in ragged breaths. Her legs were shaking and tired, a type of exertion that even sitting wouldn’t solve. After a while she stood up on her own, but still held on to his shoulder just in case. When she looked up he was offering her his water bottle.

	Without a second for thought she eagerly drained the canteen, sighing at the refreshment while she still panted for her poor lungs, who were burning beyond belief. She mustered a “Thank you,” wiping her mouth of the few droplets that had missed in her desperation.

	“Are you doing alright?” Asgore asked, partly out of amusement but there was legitimate concern behind his words. Worry was in his eyes.

	Her panting finally settled and she closed her mouth, taking a few deep breaths through her nose. “Yes, sorry for holding you back, Asgore.” She looked at the empty vessel in her hand. “... And for drinking all of the water.”

Asgore still looked at her warily, not sure if this sudden resoluteness was sincere or out of plain old stubbornness. Knowing her it was the latter, but he held his tongue about that. “That’s not a worry, Tori. You needed it far more than I.” He chuckled, then looked up at the sky. “The sun is still high, as well, we have time to tarry. And you aren’t holding anybody back, this hike is just as much yours as it is mine. I’m sorry for going so fast, I’m too used to Undyne being always at my heels.” He smiled as she visibly recovered, watching as her breathing became more stable. “We can take as many breaks as you need, and if it comes to it I can always carry you.”

The offer made her gelatinous legs grow that much more weary. “No, I will be fine,” she said, “I came here to hike, not to be a burden.”

He grinned at the hint of a scowl that was in her eyes. “You’re never a burden, honey.” Taking the canteen from her grasp, he screwed the top back on and fit it back onto his pack before giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. “If you’re ready, we’re not too far from the top.”

	They shouldered their packs and carried on, toiling up the hill. Despite her nearly severe exhaustion, and lack of breath, the air was much more pleasant here than down in the town, and the scenery was enough to make it all worth it. To her left was a steep slope, the grade it took intimidating and one that made their current course almost laughable; to her right, tumbling gently down the hillside was a wide coniferous forest whose trees were tall, reaching upwards towards the sky as if they were attempting to block it from her view. The floor was painted with tan needles, shed by the monoliths of spruce and pine that were dotted along the wayside of the trail. Besides the trees small shrubs and green-leafed bushes made their home as well, some occupying the spaces where sunlight peeked through the canopy of needles, while others were alongside the dusty road they followed. The sun was up, walking with the clouds.

	In her blissful daze of gazing she didn’t even realize Asgore was next to her until he caught her when she stumbled on an inopportune rock in the path. “Careful!” he called, his hand’s iron grip ensuring she didn’t fall backwards.

	Her cry was cut short, wide eyes now open with surprise instead of wonder. “Oh!” she sighed as her footing became steady, “Goodness, thank you, Gorey. I was too busy looking to see what was right in front of me!” She laughed, continuing alongside him. They easily filled the entire trail when they stood side by side, but they hadn’t seen another mountaineer since they had left the trailhead, so courtesy wasn’t really on their mind.

	“I know exactly what you mean,” he said in a slightly more somber tone, the light in his eyes changing momentarily before his smile retook it, “It’s very easy to get lost out here, if not in the forest then in your thoughts.”

	“Well good thing I have a good guide for both then,” she chimed, grinning at him.

	“Oh, ho!” he said, smiling wider, “I suppose that is true. I’ve spent many countless years exploring this forest way back when, and despite some of these trees not being all too familiar, their ancestry definitely is.” That was true, Asgore had spent lifetimes in this country, and knew it well beyond most. He loved it for its many glens and flowers, Ebott being in a range full of quiet forest-clad mountains with scattered lakes. The hills were bumpy with trees, and he would happily get lost in them.

	“Is this not the trail you took me on when we first started seeing one another?” She looked around. Now that he had mentioned it, this path felt vaguely familiar, though she couldn’t necessarily place why.

	“Something like that. It isn’t exactly, mind you, for the paths I used to follow were of my own creation that no human knew. However, I have to admit these more modern paths do the job rather well… almost as if they had taken notes on how I would’ve done it.” He looked along the sides of their road. It was obviously kept by caring hands, for the foliage was almost a garden in its own right. Then he looked up between the gaps of the trees. “Still, it’s wonderfully peaceful out here.”

	Toriel listened, the quiet greeting her ears like an old friend she had nearly forgotten. It wasn’t a dull and dreary silence like the underground, it was one that carried itself in a happier mode, almost as if it were a whisper she could just barely not hear. The occasional bird call or rustle of nature made itself known, but it felt like orchestration as opposed to interruption for the calm quiet. Pigments of green and yellow were plentiful in the late summer day, branches from both tree and shrub alike reaching out almost in greeting. Black specks of feathery friends flew overhead near the clouds that floated in the deep blue sky. The midday sun had begun its slow descent down. It was hard for Toriel to believe that this was what was sitting atop the feet of Mount Ebott during their long stay below.

	Before they knew it the first bend he had mentioned was overtaken. Asgore looked over at his queen again. “How are you feeling, dear?”

	A breeze came and brushed against her fur, cooling her damp forehead. Her eyes closed in a smooth sigh as she said “Much better, thank you.”

	“Your pack isn’t too heavy, is it?”

	She snorted. “Asgore you needn’t worry about me, this is actually quite wonderful now. I think the trail is a bit less steep here.”

	He hummed. “Well it should get even less so soon, but not before it gets steep again.” Toriel groaned at that, and he laughed. “That offer to carry you is still on the table, you know.”

	“Only if my legs give out,” she smirked, before realizing that her thighs were starting to burn, “But maybe a break would be smart.”

	They both undid the clips and shrugged off their packs, letting them fall to the ground before sitting down heavily next to them. He took a deep breath and smiled as he let it out, eyes closing slowly. Toriel leaned her head on his shoulder. They were dusty and sweaty, but cared little of that, only enjoying the sighs of the trees and the breeze whenever it came.

	“You know,” he said after a while, “I used to come up here nearly every day when we first were freed.”

	“Oh?” She cocked an eyebrow, “Sounds fun.” She hadn’t realized how tired she was until she sat down.

	“Indeed!” he laughed, “I missed the trees most I think, for some of them are old friends from way back when. I saw a few that were but saplings when I first met them and did some catching up, very good listeners if you ever need them.” He let out another deep breath as she giggled. “Though I must say the smell of the air is a close second. I could spend a week just breathing up here.”

	“I can see why,” she took her own long sigh of the forest wind, “It is nourishing, almost.”

	“Mhmm, and nothing clears your mind better.” His eyes opened slightly. “Especially when there’s a lot on it.” That same silence formed again, the sound of their breathing only adding to it. Suddenly he stood up and offered her his hand.

	Begrudgingly she took it, and groaned as she made her way back onto her feet and strapped herself into her pack. The idea of being carried grew more appealing the longer she stood.

	“Not too long now, Tori,” he said, “Hopefully we’ll get there within an hour or two.”

	So they set off, and much to Toriel’s dismay the slope did in fact get steeper as they went on. On top of that the path curved to the left as it climbed the hillside, and the dusty road turned into fragmented rock. Plants poked through wherever they saw fit through the many gaps. Careful footing was required, and on tired legs it was miserable, but they managed it without issue. Finally, that last bend she had been dreading ended and they reached the top of the slope.

	The pine needle floor was traded out for long grasses, some golden and some green as the path cut through them like an old creek bed. The trickling of water could be heard. Ahead of them the peak of mount Ebott poked like a jagged knife towards the sky, nearly blocking the sun out from them. The trail followed along the side of another hill, but dared not go onto it, for the hilly ascent quickly met the edge of the mountain, whose slope was more akin to a cliff face than a climbable grade.

	The flattened earth was very welcome to their weary feet, especially the queen’s. To the left of mount Ebott was a flat plain that eventually tumbled down one way and continued on the other. The trail followed the latter. The trees became leafy and the grass tall, and very soon to their left a stream followed in their adventure. Its soft voice guided them along as it nurtured the birches that lay on its banks, the crisp sound of their leaves adding to the harmonious nature of their hike. Mighty oaks replace the towering pines, and acorns were all about their feet. Mosses grew on ancient rocks and plenty of green plants sprang up from the feet of the trees. The sky was once again choked away from Toriel asides from the strip of blue that was directly above her.

	Eventually the stream departed and turned to the left away from the trail, and at that point Asgore halted. Next to him, Toriel looked curiously. He scanned the trees, and a look of perplexion was about his features. He stood under the eaves of the forest, stooping forward, as if he were listening, and peering with wide eyes into the shadows. Slowly, he walked from tree to tree, looking them branch to root until he finally spotted one he liked and smiled. An ancient oak sat in front of them, far wider than the king that stood in front of it.

	“Hello, old friend,” he greeted it, and a bough of leaves swayed. Toriel was lost.

	“And… who is this?” She asked, staring unsurely at the heavy branches.

	“An old tree that I planted myself when I barely had my beard.” Asgore beamed, looking up at the thick leaves above his head. The trunk reached high into the sky, and spread itself out so far that Asgore could have laid with his feet against its roots and risked the tips of his horns being struck by an acorn. “And a waymarker for one of my old pathways to boot.” He patted the side of the bark, smiling at the coarseness against his fingers and continuing a few feet along the path. Then found what he was looking for. There was a faint difference in the flora, flattened almost, like the beginning of a trail that ageless feet had marked many, many years ago. Without a second thought Asgore stepped into the brush.

	Now further, and now nearer the stream flowed in its stony bed as they ventured forth into the foliage. This time the two couldn’t stand side by side, the thick forest only allowing them to go one by one. To Toriel there appeared to be no path, but Asgore chose one that went swiftly where he wanted to go. No wayward root nor branch nor stone got under foot as they went, and somehow the forest seemed all the more dense around them, though the king took plenty of care to not trample a single plant. Asgore seemed different to Toriel as she followed, his posture transformed with every step. He seemed as if he drew himself up, like a man finally able to stand up straight after being bent over some trouble for so long. The sound of the stream returned, pricking Toriel’s ears beyond the lively sounds of the wood. Sunlight gleamed through the gaps of the canopy, catching the pink of Asgore’s shirt and the flaxen gold of his hair. The queen found herself once again lost in wonder, though less so of the forest and more for her guide.

	Just as she was getting used to the shaded light of the wood the two breached out into a wide mead, the sky above now wide and shining with golden light. The trees stopped abruptly, giving way to thick, strong grass, which seemed untouched by man. The turf was dotted with small flowers that sprang there like countless stars, all of different colors that skillfully caught the eye. Bright, deep pinks, powder blues and shining yellows graced the pedals of the wild blossoms, and the more Toriel looked, the more she could see. The sides of the glen were shaggy, brush and saplings alike competing with the wild lawn and flowers. A few yards further the grass grew tall, at least to her knees, and so the flowers grew too.

	To Asgore, whose mind was far more versed in garden-lore compared to his partner, he noted every plant that came into details. Groves of mighty trees and thick juniper graced his right, and woody creeping stems were mantled in deep tapestries over stone. Sages of many kinds put forth blue flowers, or ones that were red or pale green. Pungent was the scent to his trained nose, and the many other herbs aided in that. His favorite part, however, were the flowers. Saxifrages, or rockfoils as some would call them, poked through the wayward rocks. Some of the wildflowers had no name, but he loved them just as well.

Toriel’s breath had been taken away, stuck staring at the picturesque clearing before her. The stream broke into the mead as well with its reed-choked beds, but then quickly dipped away back into the forest. The small meadow was at least a half mile wide, and completely surrounded by trees. Mount Ebott was even taller now, and its peak challenged the clouds. She looked now at Asgore, and somehow he looked as he did all those many years ago when she first met him. His face was completely relaxed as he stared onward, as if he were in great thought of a merrier time. His eyes were bright beneath his bushy eyebrows, piercing as the rays of the sun but as soft as the first light of the day. A smile neither wide nor small was upon his bearded lips while he drank in the sight, and Toriel could only watch him now. Normally, she could notice small lines of worry all along his face that had come with time, though not from age, but now they were all smoothed away.

Suddenly, he jolted, as if shaken awake, and he looked over at Toriel. “Oh, sorry about that,” he laughed, and the deep sound sounded different to Toriel, “It has been a while since I’ve seen this place, shall we continue?”

Slowly they treaded along the meadow, careful to not trample any flowers. More shades greeted their eyes, dark purples and vibrant reds popped up beneath the tall grass. The wind was still, though every once in a while a light gust would jostle the lawn. Toriel’s tired limbs were eased, once again standing to the side of Asgore while his path coincided with the stream. It seemed that the woods completely surrounded the clearing, but there was an open highway of wayward stones and grass alongside the trickling water as the bed grew more thick.

“So,” Toriel said, finally breaking the silence they had been enjoying while they crested the water, “When you say that you ‘talked to the trees’ and they ‘listened’, does that mean you understand them?”

He chuckled, “No of course not. I just pretend they can hear me.” Grinning, he continued, “Maybe they can.”

Toriel smiled and thought, “Well, with how much you care for them, they probably should.”

“They provide me with shade on a sunny day and stray branches they no longer need for my fires, if anything they care for me.” It was her turn to giggle, and he looked at her sweetly. “It would be nice if they listen did, however.” She watched him, and his expression appeared to be half-knowing, yet also half-humorous.

The stream bent to the right, and Asgore’s grin grew. They came upon a still lake just as the sun hung low above the mountains. The surface mimicked the late afternoon sky. Toriel cooed, and Asgore sat in happy silence. The water was clear, dragonflies buzzing around near the shore. Here the stream finally ended, flowing into the lake as an inlet, but not to far there was an even wider river that ran as it glittered in the sun, sparkling and chattering noisily as it made its way. Hills and mountains scraped on the sky, and were reflected along with the light blue and pillowy clouds on the glass-like surface of the lake. Smooth ripples lapped at the shore against the loose rocks, splashing quietly while the Dreemurrs approached. The trees up here were already feeling the cool air of fall, some of their leaves blushing red and orange among the green, the hues mixing and melding in the water’s reflection. Asgore’s shoulders relaxed even further

A sweet breeze flowed, wrinkling the surface of the lake, the still image rippling. Across the way, over the water, was a dale, towering tall as it made it way up to Mount Ebott, the trees more scattered there but still standing mightily high. To their right the summit peered vastly into the sky, tall, but oh so near now compared to the town. A valley sat to the left, fields of flowers making their home in the vast turf, sporadically placed but numbering plenty. The lawn bumped and bumbled until it met dark trees again, the woods looking like twigs they were so far away. Mountains receded into a long curve that was lost in the distance. Loose stones replaced the blades of grass under their feet as they came closer to the pale shore-line. As Toriel admired the sights, the sounds filled her ears. Beyond birds and beast, the trickling of water led to an inlet that grew less busy as it dared towards lake’s still water, lapping gently until it itself came to a stop.

Rocks crunched under foot as they found a flat bit of land near the shore, and set down their heavy packs next to a solitary tree at the edge of their newly found camping spot. Toriel stretched and sagged on her exhausted legs, content that they were done for today but utterly regretting tomorrow and the soreness that would come. Asgore stood for a moment, his hair getting rustled softly in the breeze, before he set to work. Undoing the clips on his pack, he rummaged and removed bits of gear as he saw he needed them, setting them in a tidy pile. Quickly he devised the skeleton of their camp, setting the stakes and poles for the tent and grabbing stray sticks and driftwood as he went. All the while, Toriel sat on a rock and watched, wanting to help but not more than she wanted to rest her poor legs.

The sun shone down on the glade they had taken over for night, though its rays grew long. The tent was up, and Asgore had unpacked all that they had needed, currently he was making a ring of stones for his evening fire. Once that was done he stood up, contented with the rocks and walked off to where a tree trunk was laying, fresh and forlorn. Hefting it over his shoulder, he walked it back to the campsite and lay it facing the hearth. It was the perfect size for them to share as a seat and Toriel happily transferred herself to it from the rock she was resting on. The air was cool by the water, and treated the two nicely, offering some respite from the heavy sun that they had endured all afternoon. Toriel closed her eyes and sighed, tilting her head back and letting her body recuperate.

The driftwood was dried with a snap of Asgore’s fingers and it, along with the kindling, was stacked neatly in the circle of stones. He stood with his hands on his hips, admiring the camp he set up before sitting down heavily next to his queen. She gladly leaned up against him. The sky had just started to turn green near the horizon in alpine fashion, meaning the sunset was not at all far away. Their seats had a wondrous view of the lake, watching it glimmer and change as the sky did.

“Thanks for all the help,” he joked after a while, chuckling when she drove her elbow into his side.

“I would have, but you had it all under control.” She shivered, but not from the cold breeze, “And I doubt I could get up at the moment.”

“You did when I presented you with a more comfortable seat.” He cocked an eyebrow at her and smirked.

“Yes, but that is completely different.” She said, “When a gentleman offers you a seat, you take it.”

“And when he sets up your camp for you?” He laughed and leaned against her further.

“Then…” she fished her phone out of her pocket, “You offer to provide dinner.” With a quick tap against the screen, a loaf of bread materialized in her other hand.

“Hey that’s cheating!” He called as the crust was torn asunder with a satisfying crack. “You’re only allowed to enjoy what you carry!”

“Technically, Gorey, I did carry this up. It was simply on my phone.” She took a bite. “Does that not count?” She said with a full mouth.

He crossed his arms. “No, it does not.”

“Well after all of that hiking there is no way that I will survive only off of your trail mix and tea.” Rolling her eyes, another bite was taken out of the loaf.

“I brought jerky too!” He rebutted.

“Yes, but…” she motioned to the roll. It was flakey and well cooked. A few crumbs rattled off onto the rocky ground.

“Have it your way,” he said, “Then you are not getting any of what I brought.”

“Fine.” She scootched herself a few inches away from the old king. “Then you are not allowed to share in anything fresh.”

He turned his nose up and away. “I’ll be fine without your ill-gotten goods, anyway.”

“Oh?” She went back to her phone, and with a few more taps of her fingers a plate that was stacked tall with a hefty slice of pie was in her hand. “I suppose I will just have your slice of pie as my own, then.” Asgore’s eyes were forced open. Wisps of steam still flowed off the top of the cinnamon and butterscotch.

“N-Now,” he said shakily, resolve already lost, “Wait a moment, Tori. Let us not be hasty. I think I am starting to see your reasoning.”

She smirked and handed him the plate, as well as the other loaf of bread she had saved away in her mobile storage. “Of course you do.”

Hungrily he stared at the pie, and his stomach rumbled. He looked over his shoulder, just in case, and said “Just please don’t tell Undyne...”

A bottle of wine was in the queen’s hands and without looking up she replied “I wouldn’t dream of it, I would prefer you to be intact.” She removed the wrapping from the neck of the bottle and fetched her corkscrew, which she had brought with her legitimately.

Though simple, the food was a feast for the pair. Pale yellow wine, fragrant as it was refreshing, as well as bread and butter, and good red cheese from her along with salted meats, and dried fruits Asgore carried in his pack, and, of course, her ever famous pie. Merrily they ate and drank, leaned up against one another as the shadows at their feet and in the trees grew longer and longer, and eventually both the cool alpine air and the creeping dark required a fire. Mischievous light was cast from the climbing flame, painting the scene a warm orange as the golden rays of the sun were slowly retreating.

Crackling and popping, the fire took the noisome role that the birds had left until they returned for the morning. The entire campsite grew pleasantly warmer, which felt nice on weary feet and wind chilled hands alike. The sunset was upon them, the solemn green being replaced with a wide array of colors. First, the horizon shone golden, almost blinding as it reflected on the glimmering surface of the lake, the warm yellow piled on top of the bright tops of the hills. The sun’s rays glazed the earth in a heavenly sheen while it lazily fell towards the jagged lines of mountains on the edge of the world. The Dreemurrs could do nothing but watch, faces happy and relaxed, basking in the shining light as it slowly changed with every second. The world grew more and more yellow.

Finally, the sun dipped beneath the mountains, but not without a final goodbye. The sky turned a bright pink, the clouds nearest the mountain tops becoming a fiery orange against the blushed backdrop. Those that were further away were a deep purple, as if they were a heavy stroke from a paint brush with the sky as its canvas. The colors were perfectly mirrored by the water, which was perfectly still without a single ripple, almost as if it knew it should be for the onlookers. The sky was worth every sore toe and wobbly knee, treating its guests with a vision they soon shouldn’t forget. Darkness grew in the trees while the colors battled in the sky, the dark green brushstrokes on the hills contrasted with the saffron and dawn rose that extended all the way from the horizon west to east. The colors grew more and more until they didn’t. Ebott was deep, deep purple, almost black as the sun shunned it.

An ember cracked, the quiet sound incredibly loud as it interrupted the scene. Toriel hadn’t realized she was lost staring, but the fire looked low as it was ignored for the view. Asgore stirred when she did, and he watched as she threw a fresh log onto the coals. The fire chattered happily.

The floor of the valley was still golden as he gazed about, and it still was growing moreso, almost a perfect reflection of their contentment. He knew the peak of the light was coming soon, the sun setting faster here than it did in the town, but he didn’t mind it at all. He then noticed she had lost herself in the sky again, chuckling, he now instead looked at her. Her fur picked up the golden tone effortlessly, every curve and pattern her fur took outlined with the faint, falling rays of the sun. The colors in the sky were competing with the deep, dark red of her eyes, soft pinks and oranges reflecting into the pools of her vision. Quietly he sighed, settling more as he was smitten once again by the love of his life. Dust and grime had clung to her coat from the sweat of travel, and there were patches where her pores had it the hardest, but they were all lost to his eye, in fact the imperfections only made her prettiness even more true. She was shining, beautiful, and everything he loved in the world. More than the trees, more than the sunset, and more than the lake they were sitting in front of.

As they silently stared, the sun didn’t wait, tired from the long summer day. Slowly, the sky became less and less pink and orange, dark blue turning darker in the east as it ate up the opposition. Far clouds became greyer until they were nearly black, and the colors grew more faint. When that was all said and done, the entire sky was a deep, deep blue, save for the westernly horizon, which faintly held onto the last few rays of the sun, glowing a pale twilight, powder blue, lightest along the teeth of the mountains. Stars made their first appearance in the dusk, and the moon was full. Toriel’s eyes adjusted to the twilight, still listening to the noise of the water and whisper of dark trees in the deepening dusk.

Looking over, she saw Asgore. He looked happy. Happier than she’d ever recalled seeing him. And that made her smile. All that day they had walked about, her in the woods with him, grinning, and laughing: for the king often laughed now in the secluded trees. She leaned against him further, releasing a smooth sigh she didn’t realize she was holding.



“I would say that was worth all that toil up the hill,” she joked, turning her focus to the fire.

“Agreed,” the king simply said, doing the same, “Though, there was one last thing I brought for us to enjoy.” Leaning over, he grabbed his pack and sifted through all of what he had with him, until he found what he was searching for. A quizzical look was on the queen, though amusement was along her smile.

“And that would be?” She asked.

He sat up, eyes bright as he had a bag in his hands. “Marshmallows! The jumbo kind as well. These were supposed to be for desert before we…” he brought his voice to a whisper, looking worriedly from side to side, “Cheated.” Toriel couldn’t tell if that was all jest or if he was actually suspicious of fishy, listening ears.

She snorted as he put his finger over his lips and tore the bag open, fetching two marshmallows as well as a pair of long, thin sticks he had set aside for their treat. Impaling one puff onto each stake, he handed her hers as he hovered his above the flame. The night grew dark, and became fine under star and round moon, and it seemed that the fragrance of the air only grew. Any semblance of the bright blue vanquished as the sky was now the domain of the moon. Stars were already shining between shores of clouds, and they were doubled by the water beneath. The heavens smiled down on the pair of old goats, parting its clouds to allow them more to see.

Toriel cooed, looking up from her mallow and towards the shining sky. "How beautiful the stars are, and the moon!"

"They do cheer the heart, don't they," he said, though it seemed like he was debating on more to say. He only looked up briefly, not wanting his treat to burn or tumble down into the unforgiving flames.

“And then some,” she hummed, turning her stick, “This is something you do not get to see from the town.”

“Indeed.” His marshmallow was starting to drip. “It is a real shame, I would take more walks at night if this greeted me whenever I left my door.”

“Then I suppose we must do this more often, hmm?” She looked at him coyly.

He took his desert from the fire, admiring the golden brown it had with dreamy eyes. “Only if your legs can handle it, dear.”

She scoffed. “They can handle more than you can think, Dreemurr.” She took his silent advice and pulled her’s out as well.

“I do not doubt it,” he laughed before blowing on the crispy outside, looking at it hungrily, “You did a good job getting up here in the first place.”

A shaky laugh came from her. “It just took a few stops was all.”

“Well pretty soon you won’t need any,” he looked at her softly, breaking contact with his desert.

“If you say so.” Her marshmallow was not nearly as neat as his, but it would eat all the same. She took a bite, and so did he.

A quaint silence formed, only interrupted by the crackling flames and the trickling of streams. Sound bounced far here, they could almost hear every drop of water that was moved. The swaying of trees was far more quiet, but were picked up by their sensitive hearing. He looked up. "We should travel up here again come early spring. It's wonderfully snowy."

She wiped her mouth as her mallow proved too much for one bite before giggling. "I thought you didn't like the cold," she mused, licking her lips.

"Well, I don't normally,” he admitted, taking another bite from his stake, “but it's nice when you have someone to keep you warm."

“Ahh,” she realized, “So that’s what you mean.”

“Did you expect anything different?” He smirked after he finished off his morsel, sighing while reaching for the bag again.

Spying his move, she gingerly put her empty stake into his view. He gave her a cocked eyebrow, and she responded with an innocent look. He spiked a fresh puff onto her stick in response. “I cannot say I should have.” Her eyes relaxed as she watched the fire again while she roasted the sugary mound. “And I cannot say that you are wrong.”

That silence came again as they smiled on. They had eaten plenty, but these marshmallows were deceivingly good, especially once one got the hang of roasting them. Asgore was a long time pro, this being his favorite part of camping, so he had it down to an art. He went to fetch his freshly cooked treat when he heard Toriel curse.

“Oh blazes!” she growled, her mallow melting off of her spike and now becoming the fire’s snack. Without another word Asgore offered her his spike, smiling as her miffed expression turned sweet. “Oh, Asgore you needn’t do that. I can make my own.”

	To that he simply said, “Take it,” and she knew better to argue. Immediately she dug in. She chewed and watched him fetch a fresh sweet. He had the stake between his legs, pointed straight up while he was bent sideways, the plastic bag rustled around his hand. She popped the last of her golden brown treat into her mouth when she noticed an abnormality as he sat back up and spiked his mallow.

“Ashg-,” she swallowed, covering her mouth, “Asgore, you have something in your beard, dear.” She scritched on her own snout where the infiltrator was, right below her lip. He looked down at his nose and both licked and scratched where it was, but only made matters worse for himself. She huffed as he failed, leaning forward and dabbing her thumb with her tongue. “Here, allow me…”

She removed the glob of sugar, flicking it to the side, and he laughed as she did so. She looked his face up and down almost sternly, looking for any more anomalies in his usual well kept whiskers. However, she found more than what she was expecting to see. She glanced in some wonder at the face now close beside her own, for the sound of that laugh had been joyful and merry. Yet in the king's face she at first saw only lines of care and sorrow, those of which she thought had gone once they were up the mountain. However they had been etched into his features like stone from years and years of waiting. Waiting for what, however, she knew he wouldn’t want to discuss. Though, as she looked more intently she perceived that under that there was a great joy: a fountain of mirth enough to set a kingdom laughing. He was still grinning. Her eyes relaxed, and her smile grew as her heart swelled. She felt like she owed him something.

“Did you get it, honey?” he asked, snapping her out of her wonderment. He beamed as she sat up. “How do I look?”

“Oh! Yes, I think I…” her smile grew slightly as she trailed off and realized what her next play was to be. “Actually, there’s one more right here, let me just-” Slowly she moved herself forward and gently caught his lips on hers.

It was a quick kiss, yet neither of them considered it enough. They stared at one another for a short second before meeting again. She locked her eyes with his, knowingly looking into his gaze before shutting hers, and he knew to do the same. She placed a hand on his cheek, hanging on his whiskers and humming as a hand landed on her leg. An idea popped into her head as the kiss broke.

“There it is,” she giggled, nuzzling her nose on his and scratching his beard, “All better.”

“Much better,” he corrected her with a grin, rubbing his hand where it was. His marshmallow was burned, but he didn’t mind when he checked on it. With a slight grin he scooted closer to her on the log, closing any sort of gap that was between them.

“You know… there’s one thing I just realized we should do tonight, before it gets too late.” Toriel said sweetly, watching the fire.

“Hmm? What would that be?” He asked with a mouthful of melted mallow.

“Swimming!” She grinned, “It has been far too long since we have gone for a swim.”

“Oh drat! That’s what I was forgetting,” he sighed, shaking his head, “All the way up the mountain there was something eating at me, telling me there was something I didn’t pack, and now there’s my answer: my swimming trunks!”

Just as he was about to say ‘Sorry, Tori’, her windbreaker was suddenly draped over his horns and eyes. When he finally regained his vision of the queen she was already up and off the log, and her shoulders were bare; her shirt was on the ground. Realization hit him like a brick as he let out an “Oh.” He stared, flabbergasted as her pants were the next to go, leaving her completely nude in the moonlight as she sashayed towards the shore line.

The queen shone silver under the starlight, as white as snow in the sun while her fur caught the pale light of the full moon. He was still stuck sitting, holding her jacket in his hands as he could only gawk, once again lost in her beauty for the second time tonight. Looking over her shoulder, she grinned as their eyes met, and he quickly decided that meant he should join her. Tossing aside the windbreaker, he reached for his collar, undoing buttons while he stumbled towards her, somewhere between a jog and a trot as he raced for the shore. Her feet dipped into the glimmering water, disrupting the serene surface and sending wrinkles along it as it reflected the heavy image of the moon. Asgore clumsily pulled his shirt over his horns, having given up with the buttons halfway through. He caught sight of her slowly vanishing into the lake, his eyes relaxing on her hips and they drank in how the moonlight outlined of her form.

Finally he reached the shore, shirtless now and half stumbling, half stepping out of his shorts. She was waiting for him where the water had climbed halfway up her thighs. Despite being night the scene was perfectly lit, the full moon wide in the sky as it painted everything with its pale light. White and grey was caught in the rippling water that was the deepest, darkest blue. A glimmering world stared up from the dark pool that was covered with clear glass, the sky’s wonder mirrored anew. Toriel sat in the center of Asgore’s view however, overshadowing the fair look of the lake in the twilight, and his smile wouldn’t leave for the entire night. He had finally freed himself of his clothes, and waded in after his queen, whose blush was just barely visible under her fur in the dim light.

Walking backwards, she teased him as they both vanished deeper into the lake until they finally met in the dancing water, together at last. Her hands landed on his shoulders, and his found her sides under water, both of them shivering at the refreshing cold before divulging into a sweet nuzzle. Then, suddenly, she splashed him, dousing his face with silvery water and disrupting the quiet evening. He parted his hair from his eyes and saw her smirk as she once again retreated deeper into the lake, and his grin gained a fire all its own. As she floated he dove under the surface, vanishing from view with only leaving a ripple in the water in his wake. Her smirk became dismayed, looking around for any sign of him so she could counter attack.

A few seconds passed, and her worries mounted and mounted until she felt a strong arm wrap around her stomach and lift her up above the water. With a shriek and a giggle she flailed as Asgore held her over his shoulder, kicking her feet and slamming her fists on his back playfully. He just laughed and laughed, wading with the lake at chest height. Water dripped off of both of them until finally he put her down, but didn’t let her go. He spun her around, chuckling as she held on, and moved them both deeper and deeper until he held her close. He couldn’t see, but smiled goofily forward as his fair covered most of his face.

They were both out of breath, but still laughing as the water stilled around them, the ripples of their revelry slowly calming. Toriel giggled, unable to see his eyes but his cheeky grin held plenty of expression for him. Reaching forward, she parted his drenched locks, revealing his soft gaze towards her and her paws froze. He moved a hand towards her cheek, smoothing some of the unsettled fur back into place with his thumb. Nothing could have stopped him from getting lost in her eyes, who stared back with pure love, and he sat, drinking in his favorite color as seconds ticked lazily by, incredibly happy as his strings unwound. It felt like nothing was wrong in the world. The stars glimmered, and their hearts beat together under the cool water.

Time’s grey hand could not touch them while the stars shone down. They stood and stared, like cross-eyed lovers, content just with their eyes meeting. Gentle hands caressed as they floated, tender as could be, growing closer and closer together. Their gazing relaxed, eyes growing lidded as if they were tired and they nuzzled unhurriedly until their eyes closed. Their noses didn’t stop when their vision did, brushing carefully, slow-going but constant until they both agreed on a kiss.

The lake was perfectly still as they hummed and sighed, going along at their own pace. They were calm, hands unmoving, hers still holding gently onto his hair as his thumb still caressed her cheek. The night still continued on and they simply enjoyed one another, breathing in time and settling further into the kiss, losing sight of everything but the soft feeling of the other. When it was finally time for them to part, their calm repose was obvious in their eyes as they went back to staring, and of course they couldn’t help but go back to nose nuzzling.

After a while, Toriel leaned forward, resting her head on his chest and transforming the embrace into a hug. Wrapping her arms around him, she hummed in content, smiling and closing her eyes as she listened to his heartbeat. He draped his limbs around her in return, setting his chin on the top of her head. A peace formed, the subtle sounds of nature nurturing it. Silently, she grabbed his arm and pulled it down under the water, joining his hand with hers underneath the heaven’s reflection.

“Remember when we would sneak away to Waterfall to skinny dip like this?” She pondered, laughing quietly, rubbing her thumb against his.

“Now that you mention it,” he smiled, “I do. We got very good at hiding our clothes.”

She snorted. “The look on that poor Woshua’s face.”

“Woshua?” He looked down at her. “I remember it being an Aaron.”

“It must’ve happened more than once, then,” she mused, placing her chin on his chest and gazing dreamily skyward.

“That is certainly a possibility,” he grinned, “You really enjoy your nude swimming.”

“Of course,” she closed her eyes again, “If it means we get moments like this.”

He took a deep, relaxed sigh. “I would have to agree.”


“And it’s much better under real stars.”

“And a real moon?”

She giggled. “Especially a real moon.”

He still stared down at her, though now her head was turned again. “Not having to hide our clothes from nosy subjects is also a rather nice upside.”

“A very nice upside,” she squeezed his hand, “We are completely alone.”

“Does that mean I get another kiss?” His grin was wide as she lifted her head up with a chuckle.

She closed her eyes and moved her nose less than an inch from his. “Only because you asked so nicely…”

Just as they were about to begin a drop of water splashed on Asgore’s nose, waking his gaze. Another drop fell on the top of Toriel’s head. Dark clouds had blocked out the stars above them while they were distracted, heavy with their rain. Soon the onslaught of falling water began, making the lake shiver and swell. “I suppose that is our cue,” Asgore commented.

Moving as fast as they were allowed the pair made it back to shore and said farewell to the water, but not before the rain could let its strength be known. Fetching their now drenched clothes, they hurried to the tarp at the front of their tent, shivering and laughing at their luck. Their fire had already been long dead during their escape to the lake, but the embers sizzled grumpily at the intruding water, smoldering and smoking its last rights while the goats made their way back. Lazily they let their clothes land in an unceremonious, damp heap outside the entrance of their shelter. While Toriel chose to get dry first, Asgore instead stood in the rain for a while longer, enjoying the wet and refreshing feeling on his fur and giving her show on top of it all. The bright stars peered out of the sky, and lit the falling water as it spilled on to his head, and dripped, dripped, in hundreds of silver drops down to his feet and fingertips. When he was finished he rejoined her, his hair once again stuck against his face with the rivulets of water. With a snap of his fingers they were dry again (and a little bit fluffier); not nearly as satisfying as warming up by the fire, but it was far better than going to bed waterlogged.

Drips and drops of rain bumped uselessly on the polymer material of the tent, wetting the rest of the world around them. The still image of the lake was marred, a kaleidoscope of grey and white and deep blue rippling now in the starlight. Stars still poked out in their own lakes from the clouds that blocked their view, twinkling in the dark night while the Dreemurrs decided now was the time to go to bed. The sparkling and chattering of the lake was now tenfold of what it was, the streams swelling at the fresh moisture. A zipper sounded out, and the goats slipped inside the tent before closing it back up again. The ruffling of sleeping bags competed with the pitter-patter of rain until all fell silent from the tent aside from the occasional giggle and yawn.

Soon, snores both gentle and great sounded, and listening to the twinkling of raindrops the Dreemurrs fell asleep.