JainUnderSwap

For years far more than any normal monster could remember the Underground had been their home. A common disgust which was made the best of with what was locked in with the by the humans and the Barrier.

They all look up to their Queen to save them. To find a way to break the Barrier and return them to the Surface. The monsters look up to the New Home with all their hopes and all their dreams. Towards the one window at the top of the tower where a fiery flicker burns ever brightly day and night. They know that as long as the fire burns the day of their ascendance out of the Undeground creeps closer and closer.

It is the fire of the Queen’s Study where she spends her days waiting for another human to fall down. Where she plans for what will happen once the seven souls are collected in the soft light of her fire magic hovering as a light for her to read and write for her people. It only occasionally flickers as the sins of her actions against the humans sink a claw into her spine.

Some say that the flickers have become more intensive as more and more humans have fallen into the Underground. A more intensive flicker for each soul Queen Toriel has gathered for her people.

“Do you think it’ll turn dark before the seventh is collected?”

“You doubt Queen Toriel’s resolve that much? Of course not! She’ll bring us back to the Surface no matter what!”

The conversation was said and heard around New Home as the doubt mixed with hope would flare and flicker just like the light in the castle tower window. All around New Home, except underneath a long, flowing hood that hid the form of the deliverer of the last of many notes sent from the Ruins.

Notes which Queen Toriel had read over and over again, and with each reread the disgust and resentment of her actions would clash with the pride and determination that she felt bringing her people one step closer to freedom from their accursed prison. The cold of the worrying words pleading for her to change her ways and to come over for some homegrown tea against the warmth of the Sun finally warming her cheeks again after so many years.

A few deaths to save countless more.

It was justified! It was her people she was saving! The humans did them wrong! They did the monsters wrong on a scale far worse than a handful of deaths!

The Queen kept those notes written with a handwriting she knew so well near her at her desk for whenever her resolve would fade. She read to make her light bright again as it faded. Her resolve restored as she knew that the one that wrote those left for her to carry the burden on her own.

She stayed to fight for the future of the monsters!

He did not!

Yet the thought never crossed the Queen’s mind that she would discard the letters. It never even came close to her to ever do that.

Because her resolve sickened her.

It was time for another letter to be delivered as she sighed out a tired sigh over the latest reports from her Royal Scientist. Just as the month before, and the month before that as well, the door was knocked on to inform her about another letter from him.

However the knock was heavier this time.

And the voice was deeper too.

“May I enter?”

It couldn’t be him, could it?

“If just to give you the letter myself?”

From the depths of New Home a collective gasp erupted as the light in the Queen’s Study disappeared. A few seconds of joint panic grasped the town with an iron fist, which was then released through a sigh of utmost relief as the light flared back to life again.

It wasn’t the Queen’s fire though.

But yet it still was the same.

“I brought with me some of the tea I have been offering.”

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.”

The extended cup was taken with a hand reluctant to admit, but with the reluctant being weaker to the sense of wanting to breathe out for just a second if possible. “Thank you,” passed through the slim-opened lips before they touched the flower-painted porcelain cup steaming with tea.

The visitor sat himself down with his own cup nestled between his large hands. “Milk? Sugar?”

“I’m fine.”

This time she didn’t lie.

The Queen savored the taste as much as she did the quiet moment with her visitor sat before her. It had been years, bordering ages, since she’d last seen him, even longer since she last drank tea with him. She knew the moment would not last forever, but she was determined to let it go its quiet length for as long as possible.

So she let it go on.

And on.

And on.

And on and on.

Until the last drop of tea at the bottom of her given cup was as cold as the sins resting upon her shoulders.

She winced as the visitor breathed in calmly to speak.

“The humans, Toriel?”

The ear of the cup dug deep into the Queen’s finger as she gripped it tightly. Hearing it from him, the warm tone hiding an accusation of murder and crime among much more.

Confusion, anger, and disappointment.

“They’re dead, Asgore,” replied the Queen without lifting her head to look her visitor in the eyes. “I need their souls. For our people.”

“For your people, Toriel.”

“They’re still ours, Asgore. They will always be ours. Even if you turn your back on them they’ll still be yours.”

“You have turned your back against them as much as I have. Leading as an example by murdering humans. That’s not what I want our people to think and believe.”

“And instead you would just hide from your responsibilities?! Not carry the burden for your people?! To bring them freedom no matter what! Their hopes and-”

“How can there be hope among murder?! Reaching out of the Underground upon a mound of corpses?! Is that a people you want to lead?! A people which look up to you not as a savior to be followed by respect, but one to be followed out of a lust for blood?”

“They follow a Queen who is proactive with her promise. Not a King that rejected his title when he was called upon to uphold the mantle which he wrapped around him so cozy beforehand. I carry the sins so that the people don’t have to. That is what it means to rule. To be the beacon of light that my people can always look upon and trust in to save them. What they can believe in no matter what happens. No matter if the weight of Mt. Ebott has to be carried I will carry it for them!”

“And on what throne do you then sit down on after you’ve waved to your people, Toriel? On a throne dripping with blood of innocent humans who have no connection at all to the ones that sealed us in? Of children, Toriel! Children lost and confused away from their families only to be slain in the name of a distorted justice they had no stake in!”

“And what would you rather have me do, Asgore? Sit in exile without lifting a single finger for my people? Shrug off the atrocities we’ve been enslaved underneath?”

“Explain to them that we can love the humans instead. Let them live their lives here in the Underground and at their life’s end ask them to give their souls to us. We could learn so much from them, and they from us. We’d be a family again, Toriel! With children that would be ours, and our people’s.”

“No, Asgore. They will never be my children. My children died. Your children did too. Our children died, Asgore. The humans killed them. I am not ready for new children, especially not children that I could never see as mine for what I’ve done.”

“The children you are killing have parents too, Toriel.”

“They knew the legend. Once they climb Mt. Ebott they are lost forever. The humans fallen down into the Underground are no longer a part of the humans on the Surface. They would not have climbed the mountain had they been.”

“So we make them a part of our world instead.”

“It’s too late for that. I made a promise to my people.”

“Your people?”

Yes.

For it was clear that it was the Queen’s people and no longer the King’s. She was the one ruler, and not one of the two. There was no balance, and it was both their faults.

The fault in their souls.

The same fault that brought them together. The same fault that made them wish they could get lost in the other’s eyes once again like they had ages before.

The same fault that had them feeling no worse for the other despite their exchange. Despite their accusations of the other’s belief for how to save their people.

Their...people.

“I...I liked the tea, Asgore.”

First they had to become a they again.

“I...I can bring some more if you want, Toriel.”

Only then could it be their people again.

“Yes, please do that.”

Only then could they save their people.

“No more letters?”
Only then could they find what they were missing.

“No more letters.”

The longing eyes turned watery.

“N-Next month again?”

And the two stood up.

“N-Next month, y-yes.”

The chasm between them closed as they took a step forwards.

“I’ll bring more than just a cup.”

Together.

“Promise?”

And together they embraced.

“Promise.”

To never let go.

For just as their people would look up to find hope in the fire burning its midnight magic in the top tower of the castle.

Sometimes you find comfort where you least expect it.