#seeking7

HEY SEEKING!!!!! @seekingseven Thank you for being such a wonderful person, making us all feel welcomed and appreciated in this project you worked so hard to host! Words cannot express the amount of Love and respect I have for you! Please enjoy this gift, I was hoping to finish this earlier and I was up all day since the launch working to finish this.

I know I'm not done reading this fic but I wanted to illustrate my favorite scene, You DESERVE IT!!! 🥰

Art based on The Most Sincere Kind of Lie

"He was right above me, frozen solid in the air, leg reared back as if he was going to kick off my head. And the look in his eyes; I swear, I've never seen it before. It was as if all of him was on fire, but from the inside. There was this green light flickering all over him. It almost looked like lightning. Maybe it was lightning, now that I think about it, but the only thing I know for sure is that his eyes were electric and that he looked like he was going to eat me alive. 

Time’s eye widened. Sky laughed, but it sounded a little more uneasy than times previous.  

“Obviously my instinct was to pull out my sword, but I didn’t have one, so I thrust out my arm and blasted him again. No magic came out. That electric-green look in his eyes grew brighter. The sheets of ice on his arms and legs began to steam, and the tip of his boot came to rest right under my chin. 

“‘You know that you can’t use a magician’s own spells against him, right?’

“That was the only thing he said before he blasted me across the theatre.”

Happy Birthday @seekingseven! As a little gift, I tried to recreate the Sky and Hyrule fight from Chapter 19 of The Most Sincere Kind of Lie. (I made one version with and one without the ice-effect on Hyrule)

You’re such an amazingly kind person who has gone above and beyond for others overseeing the massive LU Appreciation/Gift exchanges.

Hope you have an amazing day Seeking!

Chapter 1 of my Linked Universe fanfic, let’s see how this baby goes down! Also available to read here on AO3

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Hyrule's Hyrule did not feel like a Hyrule.

A calm, somber, empty wind threaded its way through the sky and forest and swamps, stirring up the stagnant dust lying on abandoned pathways and tugging curiously at the Links' clothing. The road they walked along was hard and flat, unfamiliar with the shifting anxiousness of wandering travelers and unwilling to leave any memory of their footprints behind. Streams mumbled and grumbled to the south, and the dark, seductive lullaby of the forest wafted in from the north. Hauntingly beautiful and terribly desolate was the only way to describe this place. Not even three hours of walking had yielded sight of a single other traveler aside from themselves.

Hyrule wasn't bothered by this, however. In fact, the traveler had an extra skip in his step and sparkle in his smile, excitedly weaving through the crowd of his incarnations and pointing out distant shadows of distant places with infectious enthusiasm. Infectious enthusiasm was the only proper term for it; Hyrule's amicable and eager attitude had contaminated everyone in the group. Sky hummed a lullaby as they walked along, bopping his head slowly as Wind thumped out the time signature on his chest. Four, Wild and Wars were all huddled around the traveler, trying to guess the names and places of things ahead of them while Hyrule laughed and occasionally applauded their efforts. Even Time and Twilight stared at the darkening sky and pointed out the timid pinpricks of light above, grinning like love-struck fools when Hyrule named each constellation and detailed the lore behind them.

On the other hand, Legend was very much bothered by their current situation. Even after hours of walking, he had no idea where Hyrule was taking them. He had no idea where, or even if, they were going to sleep tonight. Were they going to have dinner? Discuss a battle strategy or cover story for their ragtag group before they eventually ended up in some Nayru-forsaken town? Legend glared at the armor on Time's back. Of all people, Old Man should have had the presence of mind to lay out some semblance of a plan. But instead, he had an arm draped around Hyrule's shoulder and another on Twilight's, looking up at the stars as if they were the answer to all his most profound questions and desires. A smart bunch his incarnations were, Legend thought. They might as well run off the path at full speed and wait for wild monsters to tear them apart if everyone was going to be this idyllic and dopey. Yeah. Idiots. That's all they were. Legend brooded and nurtured his dissatisfaction with paternal meticulousness, almost enjoying the feeling of disgust blooming between his ribs. He thought of how much his feet hurt and how heavy his eyelids felt. What he would give for a good meal and a warm blanket and twenty seconds of reprieve from the noise and racket around him. His eyebrows slipped low over his face, his mouth twisted into its typical grimace, his movements slowed as he began to lag behind the rest of the group.

Goddesses above, he was so, so, so tired.

The silvery, boisterous sound of Sky's laughter shattered the silence Legend had grown extremely fond of over the last few minutes. The disgruntled hero stared up from his feet and stifled a groan as he processed the chaos in front of him. Wind was carrying Sky on his shoulders, swaying back and forth as the former's power bracelet twinkled crazily under the moonlight, and a piggyback race had been declared. Four had hoisted himself on Warriors' back without a second thought, and the two were off, sprinting down a path they weren't familiar with, and towards a horizon they'd never met. A brilliant thing to do in a foreign Hyrule, Legend thought bitterly. At least Time, Twilight, Wild, and Hyrule had some semblance of dignity about them. Oh, scratch that, the insane cook had stripped down to what he called his Sheikah Speedos (whatever on Farore's good green earth that meant) and was now sitting atop Twilight's shoulders. Legend hoped for a split second that Twilight would be level-minded enough to dissuade his protégé from such a reckless pastime. The aforementioned hope melted in the air when the pair shrieked a stream of sacrilegious boasts and sprinted after Wind and Warriors' retreating forms. Hyrule, who was still leading the whole group -- even though they were in his Hyrule, Legend had a sneaking feeling that this was a bad idea -- tossed his shield underneath his feet and quite literally sledded down the path. Legend sighed dramatically. Apparently, Wild's wasteful hobby had tainted even him.

Idiots, the lot of them.

Humid fog skittered over from a nearby river and settled onto Legend's lashes and cheeks. He blinked slowly and yawned again. The arsenal on his back pulled him downwards, and Legend made no motion to resist, relishing the feeling of slack muscles and half-closed eyes and hair flopping in front of his face. He didn't notice how far forward he was slumped until his hands dragged across the floor and scratched the rough skin of his knuckles. Legend glared furiously at the dust beneath him, as if to reprimand its audacity. The half-asleep hero proceeded to slog forward with even less intention than before.

Maybe if he fell asleep in the middle of the path, they would all stop their shenanigans and put their heads back on their shoulders.

"Hey, Legend! Pick it up, yeah? You're moving about as fast as Wind's gramma on a summer afternoon!"

That stupid cook couldn't even let him sleep, huh?

Legend didn't have a comeback, so he just sneered at Wild's silhouette as Wind did the job for him. Sailor boy had quite the vocabulary -- not exactly vulgar but certainly brazen enough to make the aforementioned 'Gramma' blush had she been here. The lazy smile was still plastered over Legend's face when Time broke away from the group and sidled up next to him.

"What do you make of all this?" Time questioned.

"Nothing much. It's all pretty stupid, to be honest." The veteran hero didn't look up from the floor, addressing his sleepy words to the dust underneath him.

Time gave Legend a sidelong look. The sound of laughter and smell of sea salt carried on the wind and grazed the tips of Legend's ears. The Old Man's gaze didn't falter, somehow becoming more childish and bright as he tilted his head genially to the side and waggled his eyebrows suggestively. Legend took one look at the dopey look on Time's face and rolled his eyes.

"Not a chance, Old Man. I might hurt your back."  

"My back? Oh no, you misunderstand. I'm more interested in receiving a piggyback ride than giving one."

Legend took an involuntary step back and stared up at Time with incredulity splashed all over his face.

"...?!"

"Ah. You're a poor sport, I see."

"... you're not going to manipulate me into something as humiliating as that."

"Oh well. Worth a shot. But what about Hyrule?"

"??"

"Everyone is getting rides except him. I have a feeling he would appreciate it very much if you would swallow your pride for his sake. Why not help him win that race?"

"Yeah," Legend grunted, "and I would appreciate it if you got off my case and let me be."

They walked on in silence. The Old Man's armor chinked in time with the sea shanty Wind was belting out at the top of his lungs. A few of the other Links joined in, even though they didn't know the words, their voices exploding into an ungodly crescendo as Wind tossed his hands up into the sky. Legend remained silent. He kicked the small pebbles in front of his feet and glowered at the shifting shadows lurking around the path's corners. There was no need to worry -- Hyrule had made it clear that as long as one stuck on the road, there was no chance of being attacked by any monsters -- but Legend's sleep-deprived brain sparkled with anxiety regardless. Snorts and giggles and quips and retorts echoed in the cold air; Time smiled at them, Legend glared. He just wanted to get to a town, eat something, nap, and wake up when Hylia's little shtick was all over.  

"Time!" Wild shouted, snapping Legend out of his reverie, "can you hold these for us? Twi and I have a race to win, and alla these thingamajiggers aren't doing much to help us out." Twilight stumbled over to them, trying to balance the hyperactive wild child spazzing out on his shoulders, and started to say something before Wild promptly dumped an assortment of swords, shields, and shirts into the Old Man's outstretched arms. Twilight stared apologetically up at Time, opening his mouth to speak before Wild tugged his hair demanded they rejoin the fray. Legend had to hold a hand in front of his face to avoid breathing in the dust Twilight kicked up. Time stared on fondly, slinging the swords over his shoulders and scrutinizing the abandoned things around him as the two crazies scampered off. He sat on his knees with a grunt and started sifting through his bag, apparently looking for a sliver of space to put the random shields and clothes he'd been handed. A few random weapons and supplies had to come out before anything else could go in, and Legend scrutinized them with the jaded eye of a seasoned mage. Time pulled out a hookshot (typical), bow (even more so), three separate quivers of ice, fire, and light arrows (untouched for years, if the fine coating of dust around them meant anything), and a strange magnifying glass with a magenta frame and indigo lens. Well, well, well. What could that be? A familiar cold fire tickled the back of his throat -- the same one that prompted him to begin his first journey and propelled him through the rest. It only grew stronger when Legend noticed how the lens bent and scattered the moonbeams falling around it; it was almost as if the artifact was trying to avoid the light. His eyebrows flickered up, and a smirk pinched the corners of his lips. Legend tossed a quick glance first at Time, who was still slowly shuffling around the materials in his bag, and another one at the rest of the Links, who were still racing and tripping and shouting like a gang of toddlers. In one fluid movement, Legend swiped the lens and held it up in front of his grinning face.  

The lens was heavy, not just because of the metal handle, but because of the ocean of magic seething and roiling within. Dark magic, without a doubt; the thick, somber, molasses-like heartbeat of the enchantment couldn't be chalked up to anything else. But said dark magic had obviously been tampered with in some way; there was none of the electric, fiery malevolence ingrained in most cursed artifacts. Perhaps it had been enchanted by a mage with a pure heart and proficiency in the dark arts? Legend's eyebrows pressed together. His fingertips itched to pull out his Magic Mirror and compare the two.

It took Legend a few seconds to register that Time's singular eye was boring into him. Legend startled and took a few preemptive steps back, just in case the Old Man got it in his head to make a lunge for the strange lens. The veteran hero smiled at his companion, balancing the artifact on the fat part of his palm.

"Fascinating. Where'd you get this, Old Man? Never thought you were a connoisseur of corrupted magical artifacts."

Time shrugged his shoulders and stood up, slinging his bag and assortment of swords around his neck. Legend tried very hard not to become uncomfortable under his unflinching, unreadable stare.  

"I don't suggest you play with it," Time finally said.

Legend grinned even wider and pressed the strange artifact to his chest. "You don't say?" He flicked the crimson barbs adorning the top of the lens and tapped the handle with a fingernail. "I can feel the Dark Magic pouring through this lens -- if it even is a lens and not a portal of sorts." Holding it up to the moon, Legend's face contorted in curiosity as the lens snuffed out the light around it. "The weird thing is that there's no malevolence behind the magic. Must have been cast by a powerful mage with no intent to harm."

"Perhaps it was." Despite his words, Time's deadpan words hung thickly in the air and betrayed his complete disinterest in pursuing the conversation further. He held out his hand in front of him, an invitation for Legend to return the lens so the both could continue on their way.

Legend slapped the hand away.

"I don't think so," the veteran teased. "Wanna tell me why you don't want me holding onto this thing? Hiding something, Gramps?"  

"Aren't we all?"  

"Oh please, spare me your existential-crisis inducing lectures. What do these engravings on the side mean?" Legend squinted at the fine letters etched into the rim. "Hmm...Lens of Truth. Is that what it's called? How odd. Hey, what do you say will happen if I look through it?"

"The same thing that happened to my eye."  

Legend's fiery curiosity dimmed and his sense of self-preservation flared. The veteran cradled the lens in his palm and widened his eyes, searching Time's face for any hint of duplicity.

"Really?" Legend whispered.

"Nope." Time replied. The skin around his eyes crinkled. Legend groaned loudly. He should have seen this one coming.

"Ugh. You really had me going for a second there."

"Hmm. Now give it back."

"C'mon," Legend urged, "don't be such a grump. Can't I just hold onto it for a little bit? You know how careful I am with artifacts of all kids, magical or not. Now that I think about it, I'm probably the best person to keep it with. Not like it's doing anything in that bag of yours."

The silence was heavy and disappointing. Legend was about to appeal to his character and reliability once more before noticing the childish glint in Time's eyes.

Oh no.

"Well, maybe if…" Time began.

"I'm not giving you a piggyback ride."

Time's baritone chuckles muffled the sounds of dust crunching beneath their feet. "I was only going to ask you if you would be able to carry all these things for me."

Legend blinked quickly, then sheepishly nodded his head. This was a pretty good deal, actually. He slung Time's bag and the array of swords Wild had dumped off around his shoulders, wincing as they dug into his skin. A sharp prick of jealousy pierced his heart as he watched Time sprint ahead and swing Hyrule onto his shoulders. He shook his head, trying to ignore the sound of Hyrule's soft, shy laughter, and busied himself with the lens in his hands.

What a fascinating thing it was. "The Lens of Truth," huh? Much more enigmatic of a name than "Magic Mirror." He idly bounced the lens in his hand as he thought. Why was it filled with dark magic but free of actual darkness? What kind of truth did it claim to reveal? Why did Time have such a strange artifact sitting at the bottom of his inventory?

His curiosity burned even brighter, and Legend found himself almost skipping down the path.

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Saria Town smelled like salt, dirt, and the sweat of a community living on the fringes of the world. At Hyrule's insistence, the Links slid off each other's shoulders and sauntered over to Legend to grab their swords, shields, and -- in Wild's case -- clothes. The veteran smiled half-heartedly as the weight on his back was lifted in bits and pieces, eyes and mind still trained on the Lens of Truth. It had been half an hour since the strange artifact had first been handed to him, and he was still no closer to finding any explanation for its weird magical aura.

"Okay, everyone, just some things before we head in." Hyrule's faint voice carried clearly through the crisp nighttime air. "The only building in this town big enough for all of us to stay at belongs to Saria Town's Wise Man. You guys need to be really nice and polite to him, or we won't have any place to sleep tonight."

"Are you saying we aren't always nice and polite?" Sky questioned. Laughter rippled through the assemblage of heroes as Hyrule awkwardly scratched the back of his neck.

"Well, I'm just saying that some of us struggle, maybe just a little, with that last one?"

Everybody's eyes fell on Legend.

"What?" The veteran said.

Hyrule turned bright red and sputtered out an apology, trying to explain that he hadn't meant to single out anybody with that last statement and he was just trying to make sure everybody knew what the townspeople would expect and that he was so sorry gosh just so--

Legend held out a hand in front of him and bounced the Lens of Truth between the fingers of the other. "I'm not mad," he finally said, walking past Hyrule towards the rickety wooden bridge that led to the small town. "I'll be going now. If anyone feels like joining me, be my guest."  

Saria Town was somehow even quieter up close. A smattering of squat, grey buildings pressed their stomachs to the floor, tender blades of grass carpeting the ground beneath them. Soft light poured out of open windows and spilled on the ground. The sleepy villagers perked up at the sight of Hyrule and widened their eyes at the sight of his entourage, waving shyly and grinning when the whole group waved back.

Hyrule stopped in front of the biggest building in the town, hesitating for a split second before knocking. The Links clustered behind him. A woman dressed in purple answered the door, light spilling out from the crack in the door and glinting off the polished wooden porch. Her eyes widened when she recognized the figure at her doorstep.

"Hello, Link! Oh, you look so tired! Do you need a place to stay, darling?"  

"Yes, ma'am," Hyrule said, "and so does my family."  

Chapter 3 of my Undertale fanfic! You can read the story here on AO3 as well! 

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"Asriel, there are still monsters in there. A lot."

The Prince tried to swallow a sigh. There wasn't any point in arguing with Chara's observation. Bright light oozed out of Grillby's windows and pooled onto the sparkling snow outside, the friendly halo around the building only emphasizing the liveliness within. The sound of clinking glasses and raucous laughter could be heard all the way from Snowdin Town's welcome sign, where a shirtless goat and disgruntled human stood side-by-side.

"Gosh, I, aha, musta misjudged the time. I-I thought the place would be a little closer to closing time and, uh, there'd be fewer monsters. Sorry." Chara gave him an unimpressed look. The goat boy cringed and scratched the back of his head, wincing when his claws snagged on a knotted snarl of fur. He muttered some more apologies and offered to pop into the adjacent shop to buy them a few sandwiches. His companion said nothing. Their eyes were fixed on Grillby's.

"Go-lly, Chara. I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to upset you! I know that you're probably not comfortable being around other monsters yet, especially that many. I really wouldn't have suggested we go there if I knew the place would be this packed. If we, I mean, if you want to go on the ferry now, we can." Asriel's apologies were addressed to the snow under his feet - he didn't have the fortitude to look his friend in the face.

There was the sound of rustling cloth and muffled grunts.

"Take your jacket."

Asriel looked up to see his sweater dangling in front of him, collar pinched between Chara's thumb and forefinger. The goat boy blinked twice then shook his head vehemently.

"Please, Asriel. Take your jacket. I don't need it anymore." Chara's voice had dropped an octave lower, soft exhales of air mingling with the words themselves.

"What do you mean you don't need it anymore? We're still in Snowdin."

A cheerful, wet breeze sent an armful of snow in their faces as if to assert the fact.

Chara sighed. "What would people think if Asriel, Prince Asriel, walks into Grillby's shirtless, soaked, and shivering? There's no way that story can sound good, especially with a human in the mix."

The sweater fluttered in the breeze.

"Walk into Grillby's…? I thought you didn't wanna go there."

"You want to go there, so that's what we'll do."

Asriel was about to explain he didn't care much for the place and that the sacrifice was unnecessary, but the look on Chara's face murdered the words in his mouth.

The human's eyebrows were pressed together in concern, eyelids lifted just high enough for Asriel to glimpse the earnest look in Chara's eyes. Almost imperceptible shivers betrayed the fact that the human was already missing the second layer of warmth but had no intention of reclaiming it.

Chara cared.

Something in Asriel's SOUL stirred, and his resolve weakened. The human took a step forward and draped the limp jacket over Asriel's shoulder. Without another word, Asriel slipped it on.

"Thanks, Chara."

"Thanks? It's not my jacket, Azzy."

"No, I mean, thanks for agreeing to go to Grillby's. I promise we'll have a great time."

Chara placed a small, delicate hand on Asriel's shoulder.

"I trust you, goat boy."

Asriel snickered and blinked away happy tears. He slung his arm around his friend's shoulder, smiling to himself when the human visibly relaxed, and sauntered towards Grillby's.

»»-««

A sudden wave of curiosity hit Chara as the pair crept into the bustling restaurant. He stared at the lively scene through his bangs, wordlessly drinking in the scene. An army of anthropomorphic dogs stood crowded around a long table, barking and yelping loudly as chips and cards were tossed in the air. Lanky, serious figures sat silently at the bar. A mosaic of empty glasses stood at simpering attention in front of them, and their grave, hushed muttering was hardly audible. And was that...a family of bunny monsters sitting at a half-moon table? Chara’s eyes widened. It was as if a hundred different worlds and lifestyles converged at one venue. So many monsters!

So many monsters.

So many...

Blood clambered to the human's face. His fingers shook. Chara unrolled the turtleneck collar of his knit sweater and pulled it up to his chin, combed his bangs in front of his eyes, and held onto Asriel's hand even tighter. He let himself be pulled in a direction he only hoped was away from the other monsters. His blood screamed and pulsed at the back of his head.

"Don't worry, Chara," the goat boy said, "nobody even saw us come in."

"Hey, guys! Is that Prince Asriel?" a high-pitched voice cried out.

The entire restaurant went silent.

And then immediately erupted in cheers.

"Yo, Prince-boy! Tell your dad I say hi!"

"Hey, little dude! How's life treatin' ya?"

"Aww, he's made a friend! And they've even got matching sweaters!"

"Drinks on Asriel?"

"Drinks on Asriel!"

"Shut up, Jeremy. He's literally a kid."

"Nice one, Doggo."

"Wha- ugh! That was not intentional."

"You heard it here first, guys! Doggo is a secret comedian!"

"You better shut your stupid, noodle-arm, UFO, saucer-lookin' a-"

"Language!" A feminine voice exclaimed, "the Prince of the Underground is right there!"

Asriel glanced at Chara and inhaled sharply, letting his chest swell with the restaurant's confident, greasy air. He cleared his throat and gave the crowd a friendly wave. "Howdy, all. My friend and I are just here for a snack. How's everyone doing tonight?"

Chara's eyebrows shot up into his forehead. He hadn’t met this assertive, charismatic Asriel he was seeing just now.

"Very well, sir!"

"Better, now that you're here!"

"Jus' fine, lil' dude."

"Yo, Princey! Who's your friend? Never seen 'em around before."

Asriel squeezed Chara's hand tighter and gave the crowd a patient, practiced smile. "I would introduce him, but Mom expects me to be home in about an hour. Y'all know how it is. Didn't mean to cause a ruckus - just wanted to grab a bite and slip out."

Clever. The human was impressed.

"Aw, shoot! Didn't mean to hold you up."

"Mama Goat is gonna be real mad, lil' dude! Better get chomping."

The apologies and friendly noises continued, but Asriel was already leading Chara to a booth nestled in the corner of the restaurant. The human clambered onto the plush seating and pressed himself next to the window. A hushed sigh escaped him as the glass cooled his inflamed cheeks. Asriel gave the crowd one last wave before sidling up to his new friend. Chara stared at the frozen world outside. There was something ethereal about the way the restaurant's lights illuminated the lazy snow flurries outside. Each snowflake sparkled a bombastic yellow, delighted to have a spotlight on them for a mere second before they joined their brothers below. It seemed that Snowdin Town's beauty could only be appreciated when isolated from its weather.

Growing tired of the endless expanse of white, Chara focused on the scene within the building. With careful, squinted eyes, the human scrutinized the restaurant with the sort of acuity only comparable to a fascinated tourist. So many monsters, so many voices...so much friendliness crammed into one place.

Asriel made a grunting noise, the sharp tinkling of metal on wood bringing Chara's attention back to the table.

"Cripes. I've only got ten gold."

A jerk of Asriel's chin directed Chara's eyes to the tabletop, where ten dime-sized pieces of metal lay scattered. Asriel was holding a little brown pouch in his hand, pinching the bottom and shaking it over the table in hopes that more "gold" would drop out. Nothing did.

"Well, that should be enough for maybe a small fries. Or one milkshake. Ugh, but if we eat sweets before dinner, Mom will be very angry." Asriel huffed and scooped the pieces of metal back into the pouch, then turned to face Chara. "What would you like?"

"You'll get in trouble if you eat any sweets?" Chara whispered, rolling his collar back down and staring at Asriel in earnest.

"Well, yeah."

"Oh." The human combed his hair back with his fingers and gave an exaggerated sigh.

"D-did you want something sugary? It's not a problem! Mom's rule only applies to me, I'm pretty sure."

Chara placed his head in his hands, wincing as the dried skin on his cheeks and fingers tore from the movement. He resisted the urge to itch and focused instead on keeping his voice as somber as possible. "No, don't worry about it. I want the same thing as you. Get whatever you like."

Asriel stared at Chara through squinted eyes, then shook his head and crossed his arms. "N-nope. We're getting the biggest, sweetest, milky-est milkshake Mister Grillby will give us for ten gold. No friend of mine is going unsatisfied - not on my watch!"

As the goat boy walked away, chin high and chest puffed and money pouch dangling from a claw, Chara smiled.

That was much easier than he'd expected.

»»-««

It was difficult to surprise Grillby.

This was probably the natural consequence of being a father, entrepreneur, and local confidant. The three facets of his life, all unpredictable and untameable, had taught his SOUL to live peaceably with the unforeseen. A lifestyle of living on one's toes had a way of nurturing a harmonious relationship with a tumultuous world.

He was the embodiment of calm waters. Metaphorically.

Having the Prince of the Underground walk into your restaurant on a Saturday night with a disheveled shadow clinging to his paw, however, was undoubtedly an occurrence worthy of the epithet "surprise." He'd been thoughtfully remolding a highball glass Jeremy shattered, listening carefully to a customer's drunken monologue, when someone announced the Prince's arrival. Shocked, he'd lost control of his flames for a split second and liquified the glass shards in his hands. The surprises kept coming, however. Upon realizing what the lanky, shaggy-haired figure hovering behind the Prince was, he accidentally set the wood beneath him on fire.

Now the floor behind the bar was scorched, and there was a red, goopy mess on his bar top he didn't know how to fix.

And there was a human in his restaurant.

The bartender let out a subdued crackle that could only be interpreted as a sigh.

He was glad that none of his customers had recognized exactly what "Asriel's little friend" was. There were only so many angry dogs and scared rabbits he could placate with his near-inaudible voice, even less when his whirlwind of emotions made controlling his flames an uncelebrated feat.

Saturday nights were relentless in every sense of the word.

He'd just supplied Jeremy with his third basket of cheese fries (and a set of napkins in vain hope the saucer-shaped monster would take the initiative to clean up after himself) when an unmistakable voice diverted his attention.

"Howdy, Mister Grillby!"

Grillby looked down. Asriel looked up.

"Sorry to cause such a, uh, fuss. I thought there would be fewer people or something at this time…"

The bartender folded his hands behind his back, waiting for the little Prince to find the words he needed.

"I, uh…"

The Prince heaved a quivering sigh and looked around. His eyes seemed to be looking for something, be it relief, words, or confidence, but they quickly dropped back to the floor.

An emotive, inebriated speech on the other side of the restaurant had just tapered off, and the ensuing volcano of applause caused the Prince to wince. With a wide, blank look in his eyes, he suddenly turned away and hid his head in his paws.

"I, ah…"

It took a few seconds for Grillby to notice the nearly-imperceptible shaking of Prince Asriel's shoulders. Muffled hiccups accompanied hushed, watery inhales. He knew that sound exceptionally well - what father didn't?

Grillby's metaphorical heart broke.

If this was because of the human…

He shook the dark thoughts out of his head. Yes, it was a human. But it was also a child .

"Your Majesty."

Asriel turned around in surprise. To hear Grillby talk was a phenomenon that must be seen as well as heard, regardless of how teary-eyed and snot-nosed one was. The bartender suppressed a smile at the Prince's exaggerated reaction - now wasn't the time - and made a waving motion urging the Prince to accompany him towards the bar. After effortlessly weaving through the crowds and casting the occasional backward glance to ensure that Prince Asriel hadn't drowned in the mob, the bartender ushered the goat behind the bar.

Anticipating the Prince's confusion, Grillby held up one flaming finger to indicate that he would only be gone for a second. Asriel watched silently as the elemental ducked into the back room and emerged with a spare stool and chocolate bar that, somehow, retained its solid form despite its handler. The bartender set the stool next to the Prince and motioned for him to take a seat, handing him the chocolate bar when he did. The goat looked at the candy in his paws with a distant air of awe. It was king-sized.

"Thank you, sir."

The chocolate bar remained untouched and unopened, but Grillby nodded his head in recognition anyway. He couldn't help but wonder what had happened to get the Prince so shaken up. Nobody in the restaurant had treated Prince Asriel with even the slightest amount of disrespect, so it couldn't be that. And aside from looking cold and a little bit wet, the Prince didn't seem to have any injuries. The bartender rested an arm on the counter and leaned onto it. No need to rush an explanation.

"Excuse me, Mister Grillby," the Prince started up again, "d-do you have milkshakes that cost ten gold or less?"

Grillby dipped his head towards his chest in incredulity. He nodded slowly but said nothing. There was no need for anyone to point out that milkshake prices weren't to blame for the Prince's current emotional state. His flames swelled when he traced the Prince's gaze over to the booth where the human sat. Old grudges clambered at his throat. Grillby pushed them down with practiced expertise.

"My friend is real hungry. H-he hasn't eaten anything in a while." The Prince gave the bartender a cloudy look and dropped his voice further. "I know he wants a milkshake. But he's too afraid to ask for it because I told him Mom will be angry if I eat something sweet before dinner, and I only have money for one thing. And, you know, I just want him to be happy. But I don't want to disappoint my Mom either."

Ah. This made a little more sense. Grillby had always known Asriel to be on the delicate side, both physically and emotionally, so his desperation to please was understandable. After all, validation from others was, unfortunately, the cheapest way to heal temporary cracks in one's self-esteem. Grillby sighed again, his thoughts weighing heavily on his shoulders. The Prince of the Underground was so unsure of his worth that the mere prospect of rejection was enough to make him cry. He stifled the urge to place a hand on the Prince's shoulder - children didn't usually take well to being too close to a fire elemental.

At least there was something he could do to make the situation a little better.

Waving away Prince Asriel's proffered money pouch, Grillby disappeared to the kitchen. He emerged minutes later with two massive hamburgers dripping with translucent yellow grease, balancing the plates on his shoulders as he twirled the utensils between his fingers. The steam from the burgers clouded up his glasses, forcing him to set down the dishes on the bar and wipe the lenses. He motioned for the Prince to follow him, the plates returning to their perch on Grillby's fingertips.

Anxious footsteps echoed after Grillby's. "Sir, I can't pay for that! Please, Mister Grillby!" The Prince's anxious bleating drew the attention of a few customers who looked at the scene and burst into laughter.

"Lookit, Saint Grillby is back at it again!"

"Don't' worry, lil' dude! Mr. Fire Man has got your back."

"Hey, Grillbz! If I told you I was Prince Asriel's long lost cousin, would I get a free hamburger too?"

Realization dawned on Prince Asriel's face, and a mirthful puff of steam escaped Grillby. The bartender believed with his entire being that too many good things were crammed into this small place. He was beyond grateful for his noisy, lively customers - they were as much a part of the restaurant as the burgers, fries, and drinks. Again, the Prince tugged on his pants. Once he knew he had Grillby's attention, the little goat spouted off a string of half-memorized reasons why he couldn't accept the gift. The bartender shook his head and walked briskly to the booth where the human sat, smiling as the Prince bounded ahead, untouched chocolate bar in hand, to give their friend a description of the developing situation.

Grillby almost set the entire building on fire when he saw a flash of pure fury on the human's face. It was gone in an instant, and the bartender reminded himself that this was a child , that he'd been working for hours and was probably seeing things, that there was no reason for a kid to be so ideologically opposed to the idea of a free hamburger.

Setting down the two burgers in front of the children and once again deflecting the Prince's attempts to pay, he gave the human his best impression of a smile. It tilted its head curiously. No further malice darkened its' face - no, no, not its , Asriel had said the human was a he. Grillby noticed coldly that the human had somehow taken possession of the Prince's chocolate bar.

After a few more increasingly half-hearted attempts at refusing the food, the Prince relented. Grillby took it as his cue to walk away. The sound of a raspy voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Thank you, Mister Grillby. We'll remember this."

The human.

Prince Asriel quickly echoed the human's sentiments, insisting that they both were extremely grateful and that he would ensure the Royal Family repaid him as soon as possible. Grillby turned around slowly, keeping a tight rein on his core temperature, and nodded curtly.

Jeremy's insistent cries for another basket of cheese fries were, for the first time, a welcome distraction.

»»-««

With a poorly suppressed burp, Asriel pushed his empty plate into the middle of the table. That was a good burger. He would have to convince Dad to bring him here more often. The Prince absentmindedly reached for a paper napkin and ran it over his muzzle, hoping it would absorb any traces of grease left in his fur.

"Howdya like the food, Chara?"

The addressed looked away from the window and down at their plate, which had hardly been touched.

"Wha-! You didn't eat anything!"

"Yes, I did."

Chara pressed the pads of his fingers delicately on the porcelain plate and spun it around, revealing the other half of the burger. Or lack thereof. It was exactly half-eaten, having been split cleanly down the middle. Asriel giggled, then turned red.

"That's real clever, Chara. Sorry that I yelled at you."

The human blinked slowly, then shrugged.

"No harm done, Azzy."

The Prince nodded and pillowed his head on crossed arms, giving Chara a stern look. With slow, carefully picked words, he explained that they would have to leave soon to get home. Chara was silent as Asriel summarized the geography of the Underground, from Waterfall to Hotland to the Capital, entranced with his descriptions of the monsters that lived in each place. The Riverkid, the Lab, the labyrinth of strange elevators he ensured his ward he knew how to navigate...Chara clung onto every word with wide, sparkling eyes.

The flash of heat and weight of another presence near them snapped Asriel out of his monologue. Chara was already staring with a curious expression at the bartender in front of them.

"Oh, howdy, Mr. Grillby! Thank you so much for the meal. It was delicious." Asriel patted his stomach to emphasize the point. No response. The air was curiously tense. Grillby suddenly inclined his head towards the Prince in delayed response and picked his empty plate off the table, sliding a paper bag meant for take-aways in Chara's direction.

Slowly, Chara bundled up his half-eaten burger in a carefully folded napkin and slid it into the bag along with the chocolate bar. He pushed the porcelain plate towards the bartender and pressed his cracked cheeks to the cold glass of the window until the elemental was gone.

"Alright, then. Let's go, Chara!" Asriel's whispered words were lost in the surrounding hubbub, but him sliding out of the booth and pointing towards the door communicated his intentions flawlessly. With the paper bag in hand, Chara eased himself off the leather seating. He tossed a suspicious glance towards the bartender.

Grillby stared back.

They both looked away, minds prattling off a practiced list of explanations and rationalizations. Asriel gave the bartender a friendly wave as he pressed his paw on Chara's back, utterly oblivious to the tension sparking in the air.

Chapter 2 of my Undertale fanfic! You can read the story here on AO3 as well :D

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Chara splashed the water onto his face, sighing as the icy liquid soothed his skin. The goat-kid, Asriel, had healed his shattered ribs, life-threatening concussions, snapped ligaments - but not his eczema. He cupped some of the stream water in his hands and tried to douse the dryness on his face again. The relief lasted only for a few seconds. One day, he mused, the two dry splotches on his cheeks would be rubbed raw and establish themselves as a permanent feature on his face.

Fantastic. As if he didn't already look ghoulish enough. Chara grimaced as the water trickled down his neck and into his sweater, dampening the cloth underneath. He sat on his knees and looked down at the lazy stream in front of him. His pale visage stared back quietly, flinching when Asriel's reflection crept in from the right.

Even though he knew the goat kid was now standing right behind him, hearing his sudden tidal wave of anxious bleats startled the human anyway.

"Golly, Mr. Chara! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to scare you! But I saw you drinking from the stream and remembered that I didn't even think to offer you a drink, or snack, or, or anything!" Asriel stuffed his paws into the tuft of hair sitting atop his head and screwed his eyes shut. "Boy, aha. You fell from angel knows where, probably haven't eaten or rested in ages, and I end up giving you a tour of the Ruins instead of watching out for you." The goat buried his face in his hands. "I suck at my job."

Chara leaned back on his hands and gave Asriel a half-lidded stare. An earlier bladder-related debacle had spared the goat-child from having to ask the awkward pronoun question (with the side-effect of embarrassing Asriel enough for the both of them). Frankly, the social faux-pas had hardly perturbed Chara - privacy was a luxury who's denial he was familiar with. For some reason, though, the prince's forced formalities and habitual self-shaming had settled on the wrong side of Chara's stomach.

"What do you mean, you suck at your job?" the human muttered.

The Ruins hummed with distant piano music; the room's twin streams gurgled happily. Chara cocked his head to the side, waiting for an answer.

"Well, I should be keeping you safe! I mean, I'm Asriel Dreemurr," he said with an exaggerated rumble and half-hearted paw flip, "I'm supposed to keep monsters safe! A-and humans! Anyone in the Underground that I can keep safe, I should. B-but, I mean, l-l-look at you! I tried to heal you, but your cheeks are all raw, and your hands are bleeding, and you're probably so hungry and thirsty that you'll dust before we get to the end of the ruins!" Asriel had been pacing over one of the little wooden bridges in the room and nearly slipped into the stream beneath trying to punctuate the last word with a stomp.

Something in Chara's heart burned. He pushed the feeling aside and got to his feet, intending to express in explicit detail how misplaced Asriel's concerns were.

Chara's weakened body had other plans, it seemed. A sudden feeling of lightheadedness exploded in his temples; he must have stood up too quickly. His legs swayed drunkenly.

"A-aw, jeez! Aw, man!" The goat boy bleated.

Asriel sprinted to his side, threw an arm over Chara's shoulder, and waited anxiously for the human to regain sovereignty over his own body.

"Gosh! That was scary! We really need to get some food in your stomach and sleep in your bones!"

"I'm alright, Asriel."

The goat child started to say something, searching his companion's face for emotional purchase, but the only sound that came out was a sigh. He gave Chara a timid, disbelieving smile.

Froggits croaked, leaves rustled, streams murmured. A Whimsun cried in the distance. Switches clicked and pressure plates hummed as Asriel led the way through the Ruins' puzzles. If the human was taking any interest in his surroundings, he wasn't showing it.

They walked on in silence.

Chara stifled the urge to shrug off the arm Asriel still had over his shoulder. Something deep within him recoiled at physical contact. He stared at the purple stone underneath him in hopes that it would give his mind something else to brood over.

It was too quiet.

Asriel was too quiet.

Why wasn't he saying anything?

His bangs slipped out from behind his ears and dangled in front of his eyes. The human didn't care enough to brush them away.

"Hmm. Mr. Chara?"

Dark, attentive eyes jerked upwards. Chara tucked his chin towards his neck and flicked his eyebrows into his forehead.

He was listening.

"You're new to the Underground, aren'tcha?"

A nod. Asriel tried not to cringe at his stupid question...what else would the answer have been?

"Aha. G-golly, you must be so confused."

Asriel didn't expect his reticent companion to giggle. He smiled involuntarily when Chara looked up at him and cocked an eyebrow.

"That's a bit of an understatement, Azzy."

Maybe it was the sudden use of a nickname or the unexpectedly positive response to his rambling, but Asriel instantaneously felt lighter on his feet. A stupid grin plastered itself on Asriel’s face. The Prince placed a paw on his chest and deepened his voice with grandiose confidence, insisting that someone ought to teach the poor human how things worked around here, and it looked like little ol' Azzy would have to do. Chara giggled louder. Asriel smiled wider.

»»-««

By the time the two stood outside the Ruin's doors, Chara's mind was swimming with stories of SOULS, monsters, humans, interspecies war, magical barriers, millennia-long imprisonments, and a royal family composed entirely of anthropomorphic goats. It all sounded like something out of some crazy video game.

His eyes flickered over his companion, who was scrutinizing the snowy wasteland with an unreadable expression.

Chara's mirth dissolved.

Why would Asriel, Prince Asriel, give a random human so much care and attention?

He must want something. That's it. But what was it? His SOUL? How would that benefit him? Asriel didn't look particularly strong, at least in terms of combat, but his healing powers were exceptional. Didn't look like he needed the power. Then again, Chara didn't really have any reference to compare him with. Dark, calculating eyes stared blankly at the snowy forest ahead. He pulled his arms around the dip in his chest where he suspected his SOUL was.

"Boy, do you look cold! Here, Mr. Chara. Take my sweater, you'll need it more than me."

The humans' eyes flitted from a particularly suspicious-looking array of trees to Asriel's shirtless form. His train of thought was instantly derailed. What on earth was this goat doing? Taking off his sweater? In this weather? Did the biting wind and flurry of white slush around them not mean anything to him? Why didn't this guy at least have a shirt underneath? This was a sort of death wish, to be sure.

Chara recoiled and flicked his hand in refusal.

Asriel remained undaunted, holding out the striped green and yellow sweater with a determined air of insistence.

"Lookie here, Mr. Chara. I've got a literal coat of fur. I'm not cold at all!" A particularly bitter breeze weaved its way between the pair, and Asriel's muscles contracted sharply. Chara raised a singular eyebrow in silent protest. "Okay, alright. I'm a little cold, but I'll live. I mean, you're probably frozen half to death right now!"

Oh. That was actually true. Chara didn't notice how absolutely freezing he was until the fact was pointed out, and now it was unbearable. Taking the proffered sweater with an air of defeat, Chara tried desperately to remember what he was just thinking about. Something about Asriel…? He popped his head out the sweater's top and slid his hands carefully through the sleeves, absent-mindedly shuffling the two layers of cloth as he wracked his brain. Asriel looked on, a ditzy smile softening his fluffy features.

"Boy, you look comfy!"

Chara nodded in agreement. His skin was already starting to warm up.

"Well, come on, Mr. Chara! It's only a 20-minute walk or so to Snowdin Town, and from there, we can take the ferry home! The Riverkid's real nice, I think you'll like him. Anyway, though, Mom is probably whipping up some seriously mad soup as we speak, so you'll have something nice and warm in your stomach before you know it!"

Whatever Chara had been thinking about earlier, it couldn't have been as important as the prospect of 'seriously mad soup.' The human nodded to the goat, letting his hand dangle at his side in a silent invitation.

Asriel closed his paw around Chara's hand.

The pair shuffled onwards. A gust of wind whistled through the trees, an air of foreboding dripping from the ceiling. The starved, twisted corpses of trees long dead stared disapprovingly as the pair made their way to the town. It didn't take the human long to decide that he really, really didn't like this place.

"Ugh, I hate how the snow makes my fur so wet! " Asriel bleated. The human cast an anxious glance at his companion, noting the flattened, grey streaks of wet fur that crisscrossed his torso and face. Chara fingered the collar of the sweater uncomfortably. The goat boy shook his head. "You're keeping that. I'm not upset about my face or anything, and I'm seriously not that cold. It's my feet. The snow's got it all wet. I feel like I'm walking on, like, ugh," Asriel scrambled for the right words before slumping in defeat, "It feels like walking on something gross, I guess! Gosh. I suck with words!"

Chara giggled. He stopped walking, letting Asriel take a few steps ahead, and scooped an armful of snow into his arms. A fistful of the white fluff was crunched into something resembling a ball.

"Heads up seven up!" Chara shouted.

"Heads up seven wha-" Asriel shrieked as a crude snowball landed squarely between his shoulder blades. The prince squealed and twisted his hands behind his back, trying to brush off the snow before it could slip further. He turned around to come face to face with a smiling, no, beaming Chara.

Any anger he felt evaporated in an instant. Before he could put together a war cry or coherent battle plan, Asriel's paws were stuffed with snow.

"Try me, human!" the goat exclaimed, sending two irregularly shaped snowballs flying towards a fleeing Chara. A loud snort in the distance indicated that at least one of the snowhunks had found its target, and the prince grinned to himself. His victory didn't last long. A flurry of snowballs hit the goat child in the chest and stomach, one misfire whizzing above his head.

"Pride goes before the fall, Azzy!" A giggling voice asserted.

"CHARA! Get back here!" Formalities and hunger and cold forgotten, Asriel's entire mind was focused on the fight. He hastily constructed a snow fort (an expertly crafted structure consisting of a goat-made snowdrift and a shallow snowball pit) and dove inside. He peered above his safe haven for the elusive offender, absentmindedly crunching snow in his palms as he waited. A flash of yellow and green and brown flickered to his right, and Asriel launched half-a-dozen snowballs in that general direction. A grandiose squeal for mercy responded to his attack. The goat grinned, drew himself to his full height, and placed his hands on his hips. He tried not to flinch as the wind flopped his ears in his face. Chara resurfaced about thirty feet in front of Asriel's fort, hair, sweater, and skin darkened from the snow. Bangs fell over his face, sweeping over the flat bridge of his nose, and his face flushed red from laughter.

Something in Asriel's heart burned.

"Poor mortal! Clearly, you have no chance against me. For this reason, I, Prince Asriel Dreemurr, elect to grant you MERCY!" The Prince extended his hands out to the side in a caricature of a hug, tilting his chin backward to complete the flamboyant image. Chara shambled forward, muscles still quivering from his laughing fit, arms pressed to his chest.

"Oh, Azzy!" the human taunted, "doncha know that in this world, it's kill or be killed?"

Before Asriel could realize his mistake, a snowball splattered against his exposed stomach. He fell backward with a dramatic cry, pressing the back of his paw to his forehead.

"How could I have been so easily defeated?" he lamented when his body hit the white fluff underneath.

Chara exploded in laughter, clutching his sides as he ran to the fallen prince. The human crouched down next to Asriel - who was splayed out ridiculously in the remains of his ruined fort - and brushed the excess snow from his face.

"I got you pretty good, didn't I?" Chara boasted as he helped Asriel to his feet. The goat rolled his eyes and gave the traitor a casual grin.

"That was a real dirty trick you pulled there, Chara. I don't think I'll be able to forgive you." Asriel said, hands on hips, "if something like this happens again, I might be forced to banish you to the island of perpetual tickling!"

"Well, Your Majesty, I'll have you know tha-" a low rumble interrupted Chara's plea for mercy.

"Dude, what was that?"

"I think it was my stomach," Chara muttered, sending his midsection as pointed a glare one could give an internal organ. Asriel ran a paw down his face, smoothing out cowlicks and rouge clumps of wet fur. He looked incredibly guilty for someone who hadn't done anything wrong.

"Aw, man. Chara, I'm so sorry. Getting you all tangled up in a snowball fight when you don't have anything to run off of - I shouldn't have done that."

"Asriel, it's alright. I'm not really that hungry." Chara insisted.

Right on cue, his stomach let out another temperamental wail. The goat boy gave Chara a frustrated snort. The latter shrugged.

"T-there's a restaurant in Snowdin Town," Asriel began. "It's a pretty nice place. We can pick up cheese fries or onion rings o-or maybe milkshakes? If you want milkshakes, we'll get milkshakes, you know. It's, you know - whatever you want, Chara." The goat's chin was tucked against his neck, a familiar hangdog look already darkening his features. Why on earth did Asriel feel guilty because he was hungry? Chara wondered. Maybe he was hungry too? So many things about this kid didn't make sense. "It’ll just be something small to tide us over during the ferry ride," Asriel continued, "the ferry ride - it's about an hour, maybe? Yeah, you gotta eat something before then. But anyway it's pretty late, we might need to hustle if we want to get to Grillby's before closing time."

Chara tilted his head to the side. His bangs slipped across his forehead.

"Let's get going then, shall we?"

The human's hand dangled by his side, wet and puffy from the snow. As if it was some sort of age-old habit or natural instinct, Asriel slipped his paw into Chara's hand.

Something in their SOULs burned.

Chapter 1 of my Undertale fanfic! Also available here on AO3 

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He was falling.

Defeat is a mindset, he reminded himself.

Chara wasn't defeated.

He'd made an...unsavory decision, yes.

But not out of weakness.

So his conscience was clear.

The sky tumbled upwards, and Chara tried not to scream as gravity forgot him.

»»-««

Asriel had always found a peculiar solace in the Ruins. Maybe it was the mysterious music floating through the halls, or the friendly burbling noises the Moldsmals made when he came by, or the way the crimson leaves crinkled cheerfully under his feet.

Or maybe it was because there was nobody around to be disappointed in him.

He started walking a little faster, trying to leave the bad thoughts behind. He told himself that he liked the kids in New Home and that the kids in New Home liked him. Mom was proud of him. Dad was proud of him. The scientists always told him he was a bright boy, that he would one day make a great king. He ordered himself to stop stressing - there was nothing to be fretting about in the first place! How often was it that Mom would let him come all the way to the Ruins, by himself, to just enjoy the day? He shook his head subconsciously, cringing as toxic thoughts crept under his fur.

The prince hardly had the presence of mind to stifle a bleat when a Froggit sidled up to him.

"(Prince Asriel? What are you doing here?)" The Froggit questioned the flustered prince with a curious air of urgency.

"Just visiting." It came out much calmer than he'd expected. Asriel folded his paws behind his back and puffed his chest in imitation of his father. He hoped he looked a little more prince-like that way. "How are you today, Mr. Froggit?"

The froggit blushed deeply and gave the prince what was probably supposed to be a smile. That was another thing his dad did, make everyone feel important by calling them sir or ma'am or mr. or mrs. Asriel had deliberately picked up the habit.

"(Well, Your Majesty, I'm very glad you came around.)"

Asriel's eyes sparkled.

"Go-lly! Really? Like, actually?"

Silence. The froggit looked away.

Of course. The other monster was just being polite, pretending to care, just like everyone else. The prince blinked quickly and preemptively swiped his sleeve across his nose.

"(Somebody fell.)"

All the bravado Asriel had scraped together dissipated at once.

"Someone's fallen down? Oh gosh! T-that's not good. I'll, uh, I'll go get my dad right away, Mr. Froggit! J-j-just wait here!" The prince turned to leave, fragments of a plan trickling down into his consciousness. From Snowdin he could ask the Riverkid for a ride, and then get someone at the lab to call his dad, wait, maybe he should go to Snowdin Town and let one of the sentries know ab-

"(Your Majesty!)" The froggit shouted after him. The prince stopped running but didn't turn around. "(Your Majesty! It's not a monster.)"

"What? I mean, ugh," Asriel ran an anxious paw through his fur and turned to face the froggit, "pardon me? I don't believe I understand you, Mr. Froggit."

"(Whatever it is, Your Majesty, it fell from the Surface.)"

"The Surface?"

"(Come with me.)"

The froggit was already leaping away toward the darkened stomach of the Ruins, and Asriel found himself running right behind it before his thoughts could totally be collected. Well, at least no monster had fallen. But what exactly could this froggit be talking about? The Surface? Something falling from The Surface? Maybe a plant or big vine of sorts had been knocked over and fallen in. It'd happened before. Perhaps that was all it was, and the monsters mistook it for something more sinister. He prayed that it was so. His offensive magic was still woefully underdeveloped, and the little prince wasn't sure he could defend citizens of the Ruins if something dangerous had actually fallen from Above.

A snort of a breath forced itself from his snout as he bumbled over a set of spikes noticed too late. Only a few HP lost, no big deal. He brushed himself off, wincing as just a bit too much pressure was placed on freshly-bruised flesh, and continued sprinting after the froggit. His claws clicked on the stone floor like some sort of morbid metronome.

It felt as if he was counting down to something.

Asriel smiled in spite of the grim situation. Boy, he should get out more! Being cooped up in the Castle all the time had really done a number on his brain. Really, what's the worst thing that could have fallen from that little sliver of a hole atop the mountain?

»»-««

The Afterlife was extremely dark, extremely quiet, and extremely painful. Chara's eyes refused to open.

He wondered, for a second, if this was Heaven or Hell.

He suspected the latter.

With his head pillowed in his arms, Chara fought the mounting urge to breathe. He already knew his chest was swollen with shattered bones, and trying to fill his lungs with air would bring more pain than relief. With cold indifference, he suspected that his arms and legs were in the same state as his ribs. The pain must be a form of eternal, divine punishment, or perhaps a clever cosmic prank. If he had the strength to, he would have laughed. But even the slightest twisting of his features made his face burn. Chara already knew where the skin was flaking and cracking and bleeding - it was always the same spot on the fullest part of his cheeks. Apparently his eczema had decided to tag along with him to the Afterlife. He couldn't complain, really. At least something had remained constant. Familiar.

Something in the distance ribbited anxiously. Dirt crumbled. Footsteps approached. A barely-audible voice tightroped over the silence.

"It sounds like it came from over here."

The footsteps, soft and halting, grew louder and closer until they were next to Chara's ears. There was an exchange of words and croaks he couldn't understand, the lingering of someone he couldn't see. It took the Fallen Human only a few seconds to realize that the voice and the footsteps most likely belonged to the same person, and a small one, at that.

"Oh! You've fallen down, haven't you?" The little voice queried.

Chara suddenly considered the possibility that he wasn't dead.

"Are you okay?"

The voice trembled but managed to keep a sliver of iron around the syllables, an attempt to communicate kindness and strength at the same time. Well. It was a valiant effort.

There was the shuffling of dirt and cloth and then the sudden weight of a presence next to him. A pair of hands - no, they were much too soft and heavy to be human hands - pressed against his spine.

Chara screamed.

No sound came out.

And then the pain was gone. Healed, in an instant.

It was then that Chara decided that he was definitely still alive.

"Here, get up…" the voice urged.

Chara drew in a massive breath. The air tasted weird. He pulled a leg underneath him and splayed his fingers in the grass to stabilize himself. Acid dripped into his throat. Bangs slid in front of his eyes. The world - green and grey and yellow - filtered through razor-thin brown bars. He tucked the hair behind his ears, trying not to wince as freezing fingers grazed a throbbing forehead. A vertebra popped as his spine straightened.

He was standing. And in front of him, only two or three paces away, stood a humanoid goat child.

Um. What ?

The fur around the goat's mouth crinkled in concern. Deep, quiet eyes flickered from Chara's torn sweater and scuffed boots to pale, frightened face. The goat pressed one of his paws to his chest and held another one out in front of him, tentatively, as if he was afraid to reach out. A silent invitation to do...something? Chara wasn't sure.

The human felt a hot, warm feeling deep in his chest. He pressed a finger over his sternum and forced out a single word.

"Chara."

"Chara, huh?" the goat-thing murmured, "that's a nice name. My name is Asriel."