"Again."
Asgore takes the outstretched hand in his. He's helped up on his feet, and pointed towards the other side of the sparring ring.
"Come at me from the right side this time!"
Once back to where he began not but five seconds earlier, Asgore readjusts his grip on his training staff while breathing out some of the previous attack's impact. He collects some air, circles his foot backwards to get into the proper stance, and lunges forward.
The dust his foot dragged up barely has time to settle before Asgore lands hard on his back again. He coughs from the hard fall, and heaves an involuntary grunt from landing on his training staff.
"I'll go get the shearing scissors," Gerson informs with a disappointment smile as he leans over Asgore's head. "You clean yourself off. Scrub hard so that maybe you'll get some of that patheticness off. Right now the dust on the ground is more worth than the dust making you up."
"Are you gonna take it all away?" Asgore asks with worry trembling like an earthquake throughout his entire sentence. "It's finally starting to thicken up from last time."
"Don't give me more reasons to shave it all off, prince. We made a deal, remember?"
"B-but," Asgore pleads, "I did my best."
"So did the animals you have for dinner when you're visiting the humans, but you still eat them, don't you? Not talking about the snails, although those might be a closer comparison to your performance right now. Are you perchance sneaking a couple away to snack on, my dear prince? Are you rewarding yourself despite not earning it? No wonder that you're curling up like one right now!"
Asgore looks away with his lips trembling. It only summons a hearty laugh from Gerson. "Once your skin gets as thick as you want your beard to be you'll get to keep it," he offers as he shoves the end of his staff underneath Asgore's back and bends it up. "Now up with you."
Asgore sits up as the stick pushes uncomfortably against his spine. He rubs the spot with his hand. "How long are we two gonna train like this?"
"Until you're a king, whelp. From what I reckon though it might end up to be my life's work. Literally. Sometimes I curse the length of my life, especially when I'm asked to shape thunder out of a snail filled pillow. Make sure I don't regret it even more, Asgore. Dismissed!"
With heavy steps Asgore makes his way across the training yard. A small sob catches Gerson's ears, and he throws his hand up in the air while sighing loudly. "Don't clean yourself off with your snot and tears! Use the bath instead!"
Despite his best effort to hide it, the clearly visible flinch from Asgore has Gerson sighing one more time. He rubs his forehead. "They say that the king has the greatest weight on his shoulder, but no sympathy is spared towards the monster that made sure those shoulders are fit to handle it!"
"With all due respect, sir," voices a nearby guard as Asgore closes the door behind him, "you're pretty rough against him. He'd beat any of us one to one as he is, and he's only-"
With a quick and loud snap of his finger, Gerson silences the dog. "You preface with respect, but you speak up against a superior, which is the complete opposite of respect. I thought that was the first thing you were taught in basics. Seems to have slipped you. Allow me to remind you." Gerson spins his staff around, and thrusts it towards the dog's muzzle. He stops it barely a hair's length from hitting the monster. "You will refrain from questioning my role," Gerson informs with a voice so filled with authority that it almost drowns the quivering dog, "and you will have faith in how I proceed with it, understood?"
"Y-yes!" The guard takes a bow. Gerson manages to tilt the staff away just before the dog hits her head on it. "Sorry, sir!"
"For me to mold a king I first have to break him down. I have to find where things hurt on him so that I can steel him. Steel isn't even enough for him, he has to be nothing less than diamond sturdy. Once he can take all of you down with as little as a soft look is when I might start thinking of giving him some room to breathe. Only to take the proud air right out of him."
The guard keeps her bow. "I understand, I was mistaken in questioning you."
"No, you weren't." Gerson beckons for the guard to stand up straight. "You witnessed what you thought was a transgression in the protection and furthering of Asgore's training, and you voiced it to the one responsible for that action. That takes vigor."
"T-thank you, sir!"
Gerson pats the dog's shoulder as he walks by. "Report to the arresting officer on duty tomorrow morning."
"W-what?"
"You still spoke up against a superior," Gerson reminds without turning his head around. "I won't be questioned by a subordinate who clearly hasn't any interest in the history of her superiors. I will send with you a few books to study while you sit your day away in confinement. Some quiet peace for your reading. Before that, please make sure the prince takes his bath."
"Shouldn't-"
"Do you want more time to read more books, sergeant?"
"Having the opposite sex interfere in the prince's private matters is a question of common decency, sir!" the guard voices louder than previously.
"He better hurry up with his bath then," Gerson replies with an eyebrow raised. It drops back down instantly afterwards. "I am well aware of your concerns, but there's a thick wooden door between you and the prince. If you're implying that such is not enough for you to be isolated from him, then I will have to conduct further disciplinary actions. You will speak no more of his matter, for your own good. I have given you your orders, sergeant. Now execute them."
The guard huffs angrily as she marches through the same door Asgore exited from. Gerson shifts his head over to another guard that salutes. "You'd think she'd be all over that order considering what was found in her locker last inspection, but it seems she only wants what she thinks is the best for the prince."
"Still want to move her post, sir?"
"Yes, I do. I can't have those kinds of feeling from his closest guards. Too dangerous. Do delay my previous order about insubordination from the inspection to the arresting officer, she's cleared about that."
He halts the guard just before he takes off. "Her speaking out of her rank is still active, but I'll take care of it."
"Sir!" the remaining guard dog acknowledges before leaving through a door leading further away from the castle than the one Asgore used.
Gerson stands alone in the training yard and enjoys the quiet a bit. Asgore came somewhat close to landing a blow, but Gerson can't praise him for that. Not yet. Asgore still has a way to go before Gerson will allow him the satisfaction. Even longer before he gets to use anything sharper than the staff he just left lying in the middle of the ring.
With a pout on his lips, Gerson flips Asgore's training staff up in the air before catching it. He replaces the two weapons on their respective racks, and cleans his face with some cold water from a nearby wooden bucket.
At least he doesn't have to worry about that guard dog no longer. It's been a couple of sleepless nights for Gerson to try and figure out who Asgore's mysterious courtier is, but all the evidence points towards it being harmless. Better to move her away from Asgore rather than blowing it up further. Should she make more moves it might require Gerson to force his hand, but he'd rather keep it low for now.
She'll understand that she's been stepping out of line after some quiet reading in her holding cell tomorrow, Gerson will make sure of that.
He leans on his crossed arms as he looks out over the kingdom that he's preparing this young Asgore to rule.
He sighs, he's got a lot to work on. This gorgeous country, this marvelous kingdom which Gerson has given his all too, and gotten so much more in return. He's on the frontline in shaping its future, shaping Asgore to rule over it.
It excites him to his very core. His soul flutters with anticipation at the mere thought of improving upon perfection, sending a wave of pride throughout him.
He will do everything he can, and everything he can't, to make sure Asgore grows into the largest pair of boots this world has ever seen. A monster king to rival even the most powerful of humans. He will stand stalwart should war ever break out. Asgore will have the will to protect his kingdom, and he will have the soul to do it once Gerson is done with him.
Nothing less will Gerson leave to guard this realm that's cradled him his entire life. Nothing less will lead the monsters to a more prosperous future.
It's a bit of a shame that Asgore's father has ruled with such wisdom and courage. Not because it provides Gerson with a bigger challenger. Heavens no! If anything, Gerson welcomes the challenge with open arms.
No, it's a bit of a shame that peace is blossoming like the trees inside the castle garden. Gerson will never see the fruits of his labor if war is never an option.
Gerson's brow furrows as he's disgusted by these thoughts that he's allowed himself to indulge in. Nothing a quick toss with a summoned hammer can fix, and Gerson takes aim on the target on the far end of the yard.
The target shatters, just like Gerson's intrusive thoughts. Questioning the king? Bah!
Maybe he was a bit harsh to the kid?
Another target explodes into splinters as another hammer strikes it.
Never! Asgore needs to be strong, and Gerson needs to make him so. To build confidence, thick skin, and discipline.
Gerson allows himself a chuckle. Maybe he should start with his own subordinates before tackling the prince. He didn't immediately pick up on the blossoming admiration, and that won't do. Especially in the future when Asgore gets more of a public presence.
Gerson will commission a full report, and learn from it the best he can!
There won't be another undeserving love under his watch ever again!
This he swears!
/
"Toriel?"
Toriel carefully turns her head around. "Yes?" she asks Jyuona jogging up to her.
"Oh, so it is you! You have new clothes! You look really good in them. Green is a good color on you."
Toriel feels her cheeks blush a bit at the warm compliment she wasn't at all ready for. "Oh, these? Yeah, it's my mom's. She said I've finally grown up enough to wear her old dresses."
"It almost looks like it could be one of those dresses the royals wear. If it were purple, that is."
Toriel's eyes shift over to the castle in the distance from her village. It stands tall, proud, famous, and splendid beyond belief.
"Although, you wouldn't want to be one of those pompous monsters living there, would you?"
Toriel's caught off guard by her emerging snicker. It causes a snortle from her, and she puts one hand over her muzzle. "Yeah, sure that I would ever find myself inside those halls. Don't think I would bear it even if I were lucky," Toriel throws her fingers up as quotation marks, "to enter. I heard they have to spend the entire morning trimming their horns, claws, hair, everything! Not to matter the hairstyles!"
"Yeah! I know! Look at me, I'm so big and important that I can't even do my shoes by myself since I'm too big and important to do something only the peasants do."
Toriel closes one eye while pouting her lips in an overtly classy manner. "Certainly," she says while holding an invisible glass that she sloshes around, making doubly sure to have her pinky finger extended. "And would you believe that I almost came into contact with one of those peasants? My child, I tell you! I spent the rest of the day having the help scrub me clean while reassuring me that it would be alright. I nearly fainted!"
Her friend mimics the faint. "My word, Toriel! How did you survive almost coming in contact with the lower classes?"
"I threw them money!" Toriel explains while flicking her fist open in a disgusting manner. "It's the only thing they want, see? Don't matter none that it's their taxes that pay us. Why would they want their money back if they're so willing to give it to us?"
"Well I never!"
"And you're lucky to never have come in contact with them!"
The two friends share a laugh while blowing raspberries towards the castle.
"Aren't you related?"
Toriel's tongue hangs outside her mouth in confusion. "Wha-" She retracts it with an audible slurp. "What?"
Jyuona runs a hand up and down Toriel. "You're a Boss Monster, right? Don't you have some Royal Dust in your soulline?"
Toriel does the same to her friend. "Don't we all? Just because I am one doesn't mean that I'm royal."
"I still think we should walk up to the castle doors one day with you in a purple dress to see if they let you in. You know, just for fun!"
Toriel scoffs. "Getting thrown in jail is not my definition of fun."
"So we'll run away! You think they would chase after us? And risk getting their shoes and newly oiled scale, fur, feathers, whatever, dirty? Their hands might fall off if they catch us as well!"
"They have guards, you know?" Toriel is quick to remind with a slight tilt of her head accompanied by a cocky eyebrow raised high. "Guards with weapons."
"So seduce them!"
"You do that!"
"Alright!"
Toriel freezes in place, her hand stuck in the air right in front of her half flexed. "What?" slips out of her frozen expression.
"Ha! Got you!"
Her friend manages a couple of step before Toriel unfreezes and catches up. "You were just kidding?"
"Of course I was! Yeah, the money is probably gonna be amazing, but those ponces are more see through than any skeleton monster around!"
"Hear ye! Hear ye!" cries a nearby town crier loudly, waving three bells in its orange tentacles. "The Royal Family wishes you a pleasant day knowing that with every day the prince grows stronger and wiser! A prosperous future awaits us all! Long live the Royal Family! Long live us all!"
Toriel shakes her head, mimicking her friend. Every single day the same speech. Every single day the Royal Family wishes goodwill only to slink in that tired boasting. The prince is growing one day older each day. Everyone must know! Everyone must care! Everyone must fall to their knees crying in bliss that the prince survived another day!
Why should everyone be so proud that he survived another day? Is he really that strong and wise if everyday the Royal Family is so amazed that the prince woke up that morning? If he's so powerful, why does he need guards around him constantly? Why is he talked about so much, yet seldom shown?
Every single day with this! It's like white noise at this point. The town crier must be bored out of his mind doing this every single hour of every single day. Unless he enjoys his work.
In which case he's an idiot in Toriel's book.
Yes, she'd love to see what's inside the palace wall, but who doesn't? That's where all the power is, that's where all the money is. It's not for any good reason though, just greedy ones. The best education, the best training, the best food, the best protection. It has to come with a price.
A price called pure boredom!
At least, that's what Toriel tells herself. She couldn't settle down like that. She would go insane the first week! All those restrictions. Living a life that you're told to live, not one you want to. What if the prince didn't want to be a prince?
Too bad! He's the prince. Before he was even born he was the prince. As soon as his parents got married he was a prince. Not to mention the King and Queen!
Doesn't take inside knowledge of nobility to understand that they're in their positions because someone else told them to be there, because their soulline destined them to be there.
Toriel won't deny that the wedding must've been absolutely fantastic, if her old 'Nan is to be believed. But what is a royal ball, anyway? After all, it must be frightfully dull, a-and boring, and completely…
Nah, just those two.
Sure, once it gets started it must be the party of a lifetime, but afterwards? Nah, back to the dull days of living a life handed to you, and not one carved with your own volition.
"Toriel, are you thinking about the castle again?"
Toriel blinks out of her thoughts. "Sorry?"
Jyuona waves her hand in front of her own face in a circular motion. "You get this smirk on your face, like you've just figured out the biggest heist to steal the crown or something. Are you gonna march up there and blow kisses to the prince? Your dear Boss Monster prince?"
Toriel shoves her friend's shoulder aside. "There are like four more Boss Monster families in this city alone, and those are only the ones I know of. There's probably tens of more closer to the castle! There are more Boss Monsters than there are skeletons, for crying out loud!"
"There are?"
"I don't know," Toriel admits while throwing her hand up against the castle. "My point is that just because I'm a Boss Monster doesn't mean anything. We've probably had a king or queen that wasn't a Boss Monster before. Wouldn't we be called Royal Monsters if that wasn't the case?"
"Sorry," Jyuona puts up her hands over her chest, "sorry. I was just kidding. Did I strike a nerve?"
"Everyone asks me sooner rather than later, that's it." Toriel hangs her head as she heaves a heavy sigh. "Sorry, didn't mean to get so upset. It's just, people assume, and when I say no, they look so disappointed, like it's my fault or something. Sorry I'm not a contender to the throne? Sorry my soulline is as normal as yours?"
Jyuona offers Toriel a supporting arm over her shoulder. "It's fine, Toriel. You're just a peasant like the rest of us!"
Toriel cocks her head up with brow furrowed low.
"I did not mean it to sound like that," her friend says in defense. "I was just trying to cheer you up."
"Thanks, but you could've worded it differently. Maybe if you actually went to class today?"
Jyuona lets Toriel go as if she suddenly turned into acid. "Whoa now! Calm down a bit there. Let's not suggest something crazy!"
"Like me heading up to smooch snootles with that pretentious prince?" Toriel shoots back with a vicious stare.
"You'd have to navigate your tongue around all those silver spoons in his mouth. Must taste horrible. Unless he's used to the taste of metal after having them in his mouth for all his life."
Toriel's brow sinks down in disgust. Her head moves silently from side to side. "No," she mutters. "Why would you say that? My tongue just curled up."
"Uncurl it so that you can-"
"Stop!"
Toriel's friend bursts out in a laugh. She pats Toriel on the back, "See you after class!" and heads off into a fork in the road away from where Toriel's going.
"Say hi to Asgore from me!" she shouts before rounding the corner.
Toriel throws a rude gesture after her friend along with an extended tongue. Once she returns it inside her mouth, she thinks she notices the slightest taste of metal. She spits it out, and dries off her mouth.
"As fucking if."