Frames of Mind

	It was a friday at Asgore’s house, the afternoon reaching its later stage. It was mid April, and the week had been rainy, but today had been cloudy and uneventful. That wasn’t an issue to the old patriarch. It was good for the flowers, after all. He was busy making dinner, a smile on his face while he set a pot to boil. Toriel was with him in the kitchen, leaning against the counter in her work clothes, watching him. The two had been hard at work rekindling what they once had. It was slow going but it was nice simply sharing the same space together with no hostility or awkwardness between them. There was still a bit of dissonance, of course, old habits brought up that picked at scars, or an accidental slip of the paw that the other wasn’t expecting.

	Toriel still wasn’t sure how far this was to go, or how much she had forgiven him. There seemed to be moments where her first instinct would be to scold him or lash out, but a part of her was horrified of that fact. The solemn silence that filled the kitchen ate at her. She watched as he chopped a carrot, the sound of the knife colliding with the cutting board and the boiling of the water lulling her into her thoughts of what they had.

	“Oh, shoot!” Asgore suddenly said, setting down the knife and catching Toriel out of her thoughts. “I was supposed to call Undyne and remind her about the meeting on Sunday.” He clutched at his pocket, but there was no phone to greet his fingers. “Tori, could you grab my phone for me? I must have left it charging on my desk.”

	“Oh,” she said, shaking her head and bringing herself to the moment. “Of course, I will be right back.”

	Her mind wandered as she walked through his flat, the home almost comically small for a monster of his size. It was a far cry from New Home, and by extension her Home that currently resided on the surface. The style being much more modern, with carpeted floors and a much more boxy shape. There wasn’t much to talk about, a room containing both the living room and kitchen was attached to a hallway that led to the garage and his bedroom. It didn’t take long for her to reach it.

	While the entire house felt alien and not very Asgore-like, his room was identical to what it was underground. On her way to save Frisk on that fateful day the one hiccup on her journey had been New Home. It was horrifyingly familiar, and it felt like her heart was to burst if she spent too long there, but she couldn’t help but stay. Grey walls, dusty toys and a messy kitchen had made her smile bittersweet, reminding the ex-queen of an ache that had never went away, and of a man she thought didn’t exist anymore. His room looked the same now as it had been then, memorabilia she remembered spying accompanying the furniture in every corner. Memories of a time before all of the hardship hit her like a cold, never-ending rain, stopping her right at the threshold of the entryway.

	She shook her head again, trying her best to not ruminate on the past. She had had her share of heartache, and so had he, for now it was time to get past that and hang on for the future. Shaky steps went forward on the sturdy hardwood as if it were going to crumple under her feet, her target his desk. It was just as she remembered it, even to recollections from what felt like centuries ago. His journal was open with its pen not too far, “Great Day Today!” cheerily scrawled beneath today’s date, just the same as every day. It made her smile, though she still felt inexplicably sad, that phrase almost taunting her as if it knew something she didn’t.

	Glancing over she saw his phone, plugged in and charging just as he said it would be. The massive screen was completely dark save for ‘100%’ being displayed. She picked it up and yanked out the cord, blinking as it lit up, not expecting a picture of herself and Frisk to greet her behind the time and date. A soft chuckle left her while his phone darkened back to black, not sure why she thought his background would be anything different before staring at her reflection and stuffing it in her pocket. She looked up, about to turn around until something caught her eye. Sitting at the back of the table sat a picture frame. For a moment she thought it was the same picture Asgore had on his phone, but then she saw Asgore in it as well, and a third smaller monster, and she froze. All four gleeful faces looked back at her as her breath caught in her throat. She recognized it.

	It was in pristine shape, despite looking as old as the day it had been taken, the absence of sun allowing for there to be little to no fading. Something in Toriel’s chest felt out of place, unable to tear her eyes away. She didn’t remember picking it up but it was in her hands, stuck standing in place and examining every inch of the glossy paper. That day was still fresh in her mind despite being so long ago, all of the antics and tries it took to get a good photo, let alone getting Asriel to sit still. Happiness struck first before making way for his melancholy friend, nostalgia gripping her heart in it’s awful fingers. Vision turned blurry as eyes ached and became misty, a knuckle traveling to her lips.

	The creak of floorboards and the sound of hinges made her twist around, Asgore standing in the doorway.

	“Tori? Have you found it yet?” He asked, stepping forward, “Oh, did I get a message? Undyne did threaten me with an early morning hike. Anyway, dinner’s about ready, so this can wait until after we…” He reached the spot right behind her and peeked over her shoulder to look at his phone, but then saw what was in her hand. “Oh.”

	The room felt deafening, both of them mute as neither wanted to break the silence. His usually immortal smile had faltered and became somber, the king retreating a few steps as she turned around.

	“I…” she started, trailing off and looked back at her old self, “I did not realize you still had this one.” He barely made eye contact and saw the look in them before he couldn’t bear it anymore.

	“Well… it was a wonderful picture of them,” he said. “And of you too. It was one of the few things I had of you that you didn’t take,” he laughed, but it sounded hollow, “So I kept it close.”
Somehow happiness interjected, putting a grin on her muzzle. “It is a good picture,” she observed, “Remember how neither of them wanted to be still for the photographer?”

	His next chuckle was less melancholy. “I do, as soon as Chara stopped struggling Asriel would take their place as the troublemaker.” A smile flickered in his eyes. “I wonder where he got that from.”

	The temporary grins fell from them. The sweet reminiscence was short lived, pain retaking its stage. The good times really shone so warmly in their minds, but they both knew how that story ended, and where they ended up because of it.

	She swallowed, the task unbelievably difficult. Her chest felt like she was stuck under water, breath hard to come by. Her fingers caressed the smooth, cold glass, tracing the outlines of her family that once was. “I’m just… surprised. I feel like if I kept this it would only make me depressed whenever I looked at it.”

	He smiled sadly as she realized what she had just said, opening her mouth to respond before he answered. “I guess you’re right,” he admitted, “It does hurt to look back on. Terribly so. But..” he looked at her, his smile holding stalwartly on his lips. “No matter how much it hurt, the thought of our family, of us, kept me going. No matter how unrealistic it was.” She watched as his face lost its battle, a frown usurping his lips. “Sounds pathetic now that I say it out loud.”

	Her mouth hung open and tried to speak, but no words came out. His posture was defeated, eyes shining in a way she had only seen once before while his eyes were screwed to the floor.

	“Asgore…” she managed to get out, but her heart ached too much to continue.

	“I used that thought to continue doing something that none of them would want me to do. Especially not in their names,” his jaw felt broken as he spoke. “I know that they wouldn’t approve of it.” He finally looked up at her, eyes glazed and containing an unfathomable color of sadness. “I know you don’t.”

	Concern filled her the longer she looked at him. Words couldn’t pass the awful feeling in her throat, betraying her wishes to speak. Asgore had returned to looking at the floor. He had been right, she hadn’t approved of his actions, and still she didn’t, but seeing him like this hurt so much more than she thought it would, the pain of his posture tugging on her heart. Leaves whispered through a window neither of them realized was open. Outside his garden glowed golden and red as the last inklings of sunlight warmed the petals. Soft greens grew from the fingertips of trees as they sagged under the wind.

	She hadn’t even noticed she was looking through the window when she spoke. “You would be right in that,” her tone was indiscernible, “I still don’t know if I can forgive you for that.”

	A sound of resignation left the king, who looked as morose as a willow tree. “I thought so,” he put simply, hands hanging uselessly at his side. “I appreciate you doing this for me Toriel, but you don’t have to keep up this act and pretend. If you don’t want us to happen again I completely understand and would rather you not sacrifice your happiness simply for my comfort. I’d rather our relationship be completely honest, even if that means it doesn’t exist.” He managed to bring his eyes to hers. “I have spent a lifetime without you, I can go for longer.”

	For reasons she couldn’t explain what he said made her smile. She peered down at the picture, the expression she had worn so carelessly carrying more meaning now than she had meant back then. With a deep breath she set down the frame, then looked back at Asgore. His dark eyes were incredibly sad, but held understanding that she knew very well. His hair was as golden as a summer afternoon, the color being one of her favorites even though she hadn’t admitted it for centuries. Slumped shoulders hid his proud stature behind a posture worthy of pity, head heavy beneath his imaginary crown.

	A bird chirped outside, and her smile grew. “You know, Asgore. You have not changed at all.” She watched as his expression changed from beaten to baffled, cocking his head. “All those years I was convinced the you I knew no longer existed, and what I thought was true beyond ends. But now I have had my mind changed.” A warm smile greeted his surprise. “My eyes may be red, but they are far from rose tinted, Asgore. And for now, I don’t see any reason for us to not try again.”

	Disbelief metamorphosed into a wide grin on Asgore’s lips, which just slightly trembled. Silence fell between them, time ticking away like a dripping faucet as moments melded into minutes. Then the pale evening grew older until the purple of the setting sky turned into green  and blue, signaling that the day was done. The birds stilled and even the wind settled, silencing the secrets that were being exchanged between flowers and branches.

	“My goodness,” she said, peering out the open sill again, “Look at that, it’s getting late. I hope you don’t mind me spending the night, Asgore. I know it’s awfully rude to invite myself in, but I remember you having those really plush blankets and I’ve been dying to sleep in them again. Wasn’t quite able to snag those.”

	His eyes lit up and his mouth opened, an odd combination of confusion and pure glee filling him. He looked as if he had just been shot. “O-Oh! Wh-why of course!” he stammered, grinning from ear to ear before clearing his throat and trying to compose himself. “I would be happy to let you stay over, Toriel. And yes, they are rather soft, you did pick them out after all.”

	“That does make sense,” she smirked, taking a step towards him, “I do not know how I had forgotten that. I guess I had the best blanket I could ask for right here.” She poked the down that hung from his chin and giggled, warmth spreading through her chest when his deep, hearty chuckle joined hers.

	They stood there a minute, simply smiling at one another. Then, Asgore broke the silence. “Oh, dinner must be getting cold by now. Shall we?”

	“Ooh,” she cooed, remembering the rumble in her stomach, “That does sound good. Lead the way, Fluffybuns.” He blushed at the old pet name, laughing at her smirk.

	“Of course, Toriel.” He smiled before turning towards the door. “I would love to.”