"Sooo?"

Fuck! Not now!

Jyuona saunters up and snags a stool right in front of Toriel. "How was your date yesterday?"

"Horrible. Never gonna see him again. Never want to see him again." Toriel slaps the wet towel in her hand over her shoulder as she finishes cleaning the last tankard. "Never want to talk about it."

Jyuona isn't convinced, because of course she isn't. "Sounds to me like it went a bit too well for the two of you."

"No!"

The few patrons at this hour crane their neck to Toriel leaning over the bar with both her hands slammed down on it. Her muzzle is taught into a snarl while her eyes pierce through Jyuona like a pair of burning spears. She's cowering away from Toriel, almost falling off her bar stool in the process.

"I. Do. Not. Want. To. Talk. About. It!" Toriel pushes away from the bar, and with a quick, but firm, glance across the tavern, the patrons return to their meals, almost as if forced.

"T-Toriel?" Jyuona sits back up, clearly afraid, but not for herself. "D-did something..." She leans forward so that she can whisper. "D-did something happen? D-did he do something to you?"

Toriel's never seen Jyuona this terrified, and even seldom about Toriel. Did Toriel go a bit too far. No, but to understand why Jyuona needs context, and that's not something Toriel has the luxury of giving her. Not in a million years, not even to her best friend. She sighs tiredly as she rubs her face hard with both her palms. "No..." She inhales carefully. "Nothing happened, Jyuona. I'm fine, I promise. It's just that...He lied to me, that's all I'm gonna say."

"Did he promise you something?"

"No, he just lied, that's all. A pretty big lie."

Jyuona thinks for a bit. "Was he a she?"

"No, Jyuona!" Toriel throws her baffled arms up high, almost knocking down the tankards hanging to dry. "That's stupid! Of course he was a he!"

"Sorry." Jyuona squirms uncomfortably in her stool. "It's just…well, I don't know what else to guess!"

Toriel can see a pair of tears form in Jyuona's eyes. "Oh...Jyuona."

She snaps her head down. "I thought..."

Toriel hurries around the corner to embrace Jyuona.

"I thought something had happened to you!" Jyuona cries out as she pulls Toriel closer. "I was the one that pushed you to go out with him. If he had done something..."

"He didn't, Jyuona. It's not your fault, I promise."

"With you lashing out like that..." Jyuona chokes on her words, only producing short gasps. "I thought..."

"He didn't. I'm fine. As if he could hurt me."

Jyuona's scoff knocks some tears onto Toriel's dress. She'll just pull her apron over the stains, no need to worry about those.

"You're right." Jyuona takes some calming breaths through her nose. "You're right, Toriel. It's just..."

"I shouldn't have screamed at you like that." Toriel hands Jyuona the towel on her shoulder so that she can clean herself up. "It's the lie he told, that's all. Nothing to do with you."

"You sure? Promise?"

"I'm sure, and I promise."

"Alright." Jyuona blows her nose with the towel. Not really what Toriel expected her to do, but that's fine. She'll just grab a fresh one later. "I trust you, Toriel."

"Of course you do, Jyuona. Not like you can trust yourself."

The two friends share a friendly laugh. It's an immense relief to them both. They spend a couple of seconds with their eyes just meeting each others. Just to feel safe about what they've just said. Jyuona eventually turns her head around to the door. "I have to get going to work now."

Toriel nods. "You do that, Jyuona. I'll talk to you later."

Jyuona leaves the tavern with a friendly wave. Toriel can tell that she is still a bit shaken though. To be fair, so is Toriel.

She still can't think of something else. It's been screaming at her ever since she scrambled down the roof and ran home.

He was the Prince.

/

"Your aura is clouded, my Prince."

As if saying that would help!

"Even more so now."

Gah!

"What is it that clouds you, my Prince?"

Asgore breaks away from his meditative position, uncrossing his legs with an annoyed sigh. Guess he was wrong in that he would be able to just think it away. He sighs again, extinguishing the candles in front of him, and knocking off the hood of the priest accompanying him. The priestess is understanding though, and tucks her ears back inside her hood before pulling it back up again over her scaly head. She extends her talon carefully.

"Would you like me to link my soul?"

Asgore shakes his head. "No."

The priestess retract her hand. "As you wish, my Prince. I do advise you to, it would help me help you if you shared with me your troubles. I am under oath to never speak of your troubles outside this room, as always. Is it more troublesome to you than the first time Gerson shaved your beard?"

Asgore's seething look could torch even the wettest of ice into a roaring fire, and the priestess bows her head deep. "I understand, I shall speak of it no further."

Asgore nods without mouthing a thanks. He crosses his legs again, painfully so. Despite the flexibility he's built up during the years he's everything but built for this sorta position. He's learned to focus past that though, but it's but the length of a seed of wheat compared to the vast field that he has to focus past.

God dammit, how could he have slipped up this badly?

"Would you like some incense, my Prince?" the priest offers gently. "If anything to be alone for a while as I fetch it?"

Asgore's not in the mood to call the priestess out on that, but she's got a point. He nods. "Rose and mahogany, please."

"As you wish." The priestess stands up before bowing, and then gently walks out of the room. Her robe don't move at all as she walks, in stark contrast to the amount of times Asgore almost tripped over as his knees tangled up in the fabric. She doesn't seem to be wise to Asgore having worn it yesterevening, and for that Asgore is grateful.

He's got enough on his mind as is without having to explain that he's been using her robes. She did raise an eyebrow to it being a bit more looser than she's used to it being, but she's probably chalked that up to it being badly washed, or something.

She wouldn't be wrong, Asgore probably did wash it pretty badly earlier.

He'd wish she'd stop calling him prince for the moment being. Asgore knows she's being courteous, on top of following her duties, but it's done nothing but worsen Asgore with every mention that she's done. He sees her lips move, but it's not the priestess voice that he hears speak the word.

It's Toriel's.

The venom, and disgust, her tongue spouted as she realized, it's not something Asgore could ever prepare for. He's never felt as soar as after that, even if Gerson were to combine all of his training into one grueling session he wouldn't even had come close to the punch in the gut Toriel gave Asgore.

Why does she hate him so?

What has he done to deserve that?

Well...he did lie about who he was…

That's true, but what could he had done? Told her that he was the prince from the get go? No, that would've been worse!

Argh! If she'd just not run away Asgore could explain! He'd planned to confess to her later when he saw it fit to do so. She could've listened to him, she could've heard him out. He risked so much going out to see her, if she'd only-

"Your aura is filled with anger, Asgore."

He sighs deeply, putting his hand up to his forehead that he rubs tiredly. "Gerson..."

"You mind if I join you?" Gerson sits down before Asgore can answer. "It's quite seldom that you call for this arrangement when you meditate." He crosses his legs and rests his arms with his palms facing up on his legs. "Share with me."

"You're the one wanting me to be more independent, Gerson," Asgore returns with curled lips. "Leave me alone to ponder."

Gerson peeks one eye slightly open. "It's obviously not working, which is why I am here, Asgore." He closes it again and shuffles his legs a bit to be slightly more comfortable. "Pretty sure even the humans to the west can feel your aura. That's not what we need from a future king. Focus your emotions, Asgore. Share with me if you feel they're too much."

Asgore cocks his head to the side while huffing.

"None of that, boy. This is for your own good, and you know that by now. Your emotions are getting the better of you." Gerson shoots over an intense look. "Focus! If you want to be angry we can do some more sparring for you to work some of that off of you."

The gust created by Asgore standing up as quickly as he can sweeps across the intimate room, plunging it into total darkness.

Through it he hears Gerson's clothes shuffle as he stands up as well. The familiar sparking sound of his magic echoes loudly, and the room is instantly drowned in a sharp blue light as a hammer forms in his hand. The deep shadows on his face move like thick tar as he utters stoically, "After you, prince."

/

"You've had a shadow pushing in that beautiful face of yours all day, Toriel. Is it something you want to talk about?"

The makeshift chair from an upside down bucket creaks as Toriel heaves a heavy sigh. She reignites the fire it put out in the stove with a quick snap of her fingers.

"Jyuona sounded quite distraught earlier. Don't think I've ever seen her act like that before."

Toriel shakes her head silently. "No, she hasn't. First time I've seen her act such as well."

Another chair is made from a smaller upside bucket next to Toriel. "What happened last night, Toriel?"

She doesn't move her eyes from the stove. "He lied to me." She's still handed a freshly peeled potato that she puts into the simmering water.

"Lied, how?"

"About who he was."

"In what way?"

Toriel hesitates with putting in the second potato into the water. It's the prince of potatoes again in her hand. "In the way that made me not want to see him again." She flicks potato prince into the boiling water where he belongs.

She can even imagine the bubbling sound he'd make. That doesn't bring her lips into a smile though, quite the contrary, since it means that she's still thinking about him.

"Are you absolutely sure that you're fine, Toriel?"

She nods. "Yes, I am. I wouldn't be here if I didn't feel fine."

"You wouldn't have screamed at Jyuona if you did feel fine, Toriel." A small hand is gently put on Toriel's shoulder. "So I'm gonna ask you again, Toriel. How do you feel?"

Toriel's eyes start watering as she meets her boss' concerned expression. "I..." She looks down, tugging her dress hard in her hands. "I don't know how I feel. I'm angry, but when I think back on it I feel happy. I...I enjoyed talking to him, but all he told me was lies, yet I can't think of what he said as lies. It all sounded, and felt, like it was coming straight from his soul, like he felt the same as I do." Toriel snaps her head back up. She draws a deep sob through her clenched teeth. "Was that a lie too?"

Her head sinks back down as she quietly cries. She's so confused! She's angry, sad, happy, fearful, everything! Her aura must feel like a damn mess to her boss. It's a miracle that he's not vomiting out of sheer confusion from it as well.

Instead, he puts his other hand on Toriel's shoulder, and gently embraces her arm. She leans into him with her muzzle. "There, there, Toriel," he comforts her gently. "Believe it or not, I've felt the same before. It's a part of life. Sometimes your plans don't go as you intend them to. Sometimes you stumble where you want to jump with joy. Your face slam into the cold ground instead of sampling the warm summer's breeze that you yearned for. It's what happens."

Toriel's only reply is another quelled sob.

"However." Her boss tries to tilt her muzzle up, but it's too heavy for him. Toriel does it herself. "That's only a small part of life, Toriel. There are times where you put your arms out against the jagged rock you think yourself falling into, only to be grabbed and pulled up by someone you never thought you'd meet. A certain young Boss Monster lady with a soul of gold, horns of crystal, eyes of-"

Toriel scoffs a chuckle. "Yes, yes. Stop it."

"You'll get through this, Toriel," her boss promises with a hand against his chest. "But you need some time for it. Be alone here with your thoughts for the rest of the day, alright? I know you want to pretend like this is nothing to you, but you don't scream at your best friend for nothing though. Even if it's someone like Jyuona, you just don't lash out with borderline hatred as you did. If you lie about your feelings you're no better than that Are, or whatever his real name is."

Toriel's shame burns hotter than the fire inside the stove. It's just…

No, it's not just. She shouldn't have done that to Jyuona, and to her boss. She has to calm down, she has to accept that she did a blunder. She gambled, and lost. She can't take that out on her friends. If they really are her friends then she'll do good in not lying about herself to them, or herself.

"I feel a bit better now." Toriel dries her eyes off. "Thanks."

"Anytime, child." Toriel's boss leaves her after a reassuring pat on her back. Halfway up the stairs he stops and turns around. "Was it you or Jyuona that blew their nose into the towel, by the way?"

"Jyuona, why do you wonder?"

"She might be getting a cold, at least if what she blew into the towel is anything to go by."

Toriel joins with her boss' chuckle. "I might set aside some soup for her then."

"You do that, but I didn't hear that, nor did the books. When-"

Toriel chuckles.

"T-Toriel?"

Why is he worried all of a sudden? "Yes?" she answers reservedly.

"D-did you send for the Royal Guard?"

/

Asgore dries off his mouth with a sharp drag of his arm. He spits out the dust that managed to find itself between his teeth, and takes up his staff again. His grip hardens to the point that the wood starts to creak, and he spins back around to face Gerson again.

"You're using your anger wrong, Asgore," Gerson scolds with some anger of himself as he flicks his wrist. The hammer in his hand sizzles away as he walks to the weapon's rack besides the training ring. He picks up a staff, and saunters back with his head low, shaking in disappointment. "You had your chance at the hammers, and you squandered it. Back to staffs with you until you show me you're worthy of them."

Asgore lunges at Gerson again, but Gerson just as easily blocks and steps aside from the attack as he just did.

"Focus, Asgore! You're letting your anger manifest outside of you instead of inside you!"

Asgore sweeps his staff against Gerson's legs, but it only hits the end of his staff planted down at an angle. Asgore feels his staff bend, and as he tries to push through Gerson's defense, it shatters in the middle. Asgore falls down again, with only half a staff inside his hand. His free hand balls into a fist, taking with it a handful of dust from the ground.

"Asgore! Your anger runs through your aura like a tantrum! You might be an adult in terms of years lived, but you'll never be an adult if you can't control your emotions and use them to your advantage!" Gerson shoves his staff underneath Asgore's stomach and flips him over on his back. He puts the staff and his foot down on Asgore's breastplate. "Why are you like this? Haven't I taught you anything? Has it just gone through one ear and out the other?"

Gerson swipes his staff towards Asgore's ear, but he catches the staff in the last second.

"So you have heard what I said, boy!"

Asgore rolls into the staff, bending it out of Gerson's grasp as he stumbles off Asgore. Asgore then spins around while on his knees and throws a strike behind him. Gerson kicks it back, forcing Asgore to drop it. The staff bounces away, creating small clouds of dust before finally rolling to a halt.

Before Asgore can stand up again Gerson pushes him down by the collar. Fury burns behind those eyes that were always calm, staring directly into Asgore's soul through his eyes. "You're so goddamn close now! We're staying here until you're done! No food, no water, no nothing." Gerson wrings Asgore's collar closer to him. "And no sneaking out to see her!"

He…

Asgore's breathing deepens.

"I know about her, Asgore. How could you ever believe that it could slip by me? She's gone now."

She's…

"I've disposed of her, erased her out of your life, Asgore! I did it. I gave the order! You'll never see her again, I've made sure of it. If it wasn't for her you would've managed this long before! She was nothing good for you. She only held you back!"

He didn't!

"Take hold of your anger, boy! Use it! Mold it! If you believe that I've wronged you, punish me! Punish me with a vengeance fit for a king! Show me that I haven't sacrificed my life training you for nothing!"

He...he's gone too far! Too far this time! Gerson can do all he wants against Asgore! What's he's done now, it's too far! She didn't deserve it!

Toriel!

Asgore's entire being focuses into his chest, into his soul, as he shoves Gerson off with all his strength. Asgore falls over on his hands and knees. His hand balls into a fist, and he throws it down into the hard ground. The impact surges through his body, into his soul again. It swells as if on the brink of bursting. It overwhelms Asgore, pushing out everywhere it can. He strikes the ground again, and the surge reverses, rushing back into his hand.

"Focus!"

Asgore's arm tenses as if struck by lightning. Through it he feels his anger flow like a roaring spring river, manifesting inside his hand. A red glow like the bloodiest of roses beings to pulsate, twist, and turn as it shapes itself.

Gerson tugs a smile, it forming quickly on his lips. He wipes his brow, and clears his throat. "That's it, Asgore."

The dirt cracks as Asgore heaves himself up while taking support on his manifested anger. It's buried deep, forming three distinctive holes that widen as his weight pushes them down further.

"You're finally an adult."

With a confident tug, Asgore pulls with him his newfound weapon summoned from himself. He rests it inside the palms of both his hands. It fits perfectly. Light, sturdy, a master craft summoned from the depths of his soul, made manifest through his anger.

A blazing red trident, glowing and crackling violently.

Gerson nods. "It'll serve you good throughout your years, Asgore. I'm proud of you." His warm smile shifts into a focus scowl as he forms a blue two handed hammer between his hands. "Now, show me that it's not just a tantrum."

"You killed her."

Gerson's posture relaxes. "Sorry?"

"You killed her!" Asgore throws his arm out, sending a fierce pulse that expands his trident.

"I haven't killed anyone, Asgore. Why would I want to kill a Royal Guard?"

"You..."

"I just sent her to another position closer to her home. It's best for her, and you."

Asgore blinks in confusion. "Who? Guard?"

"The one that had an interest in you, and which apparently you had as well. The one that used to guard over there." Gerson points to an empty spot behind and to the left of Asgore. "The dog with the dot over her eye."

Asgore continues blinking. "Who?"

Gerson silently waves a hammer in Asgore's direction. "You don't know her? You didn't have feelings for her?"

Asgore looks behind him and to the left. "No?"

"Then-" Gerson own terrified gasp interrupts his sentence. "No!" He puts the palms of his hands pressing hard up on his forehead. "Your focus, Asgore!"

An arcane and slightly sizzling thud steals Asgore's ears, and he looks down on his hand. What's left in it is a small broken piece of red magic, fading with each second. His trident lays on the ground in two large pieces, petering out with an embarrassing sigh.

An even deeper sigh comes from Gerson. He drags his hands slowly down his face. "It's fine," he tells himself after another heaved exhale. "It's fine, you've created it which is the difficult part. We'll get to work on you maintaining it later. I can see on you that it's taken a toll on your head. You can go back to meditating after you've cleaned yourself off, Asgore."

Asgore flinches as a hand is placed on his shoulder. He's so baffled he didn't even see Gerson walk up to him. "Good job, Asgore."

Good...job?

"Yes, yes. Wipe that stunned expression off while you're at it with your cleaning. Wahahahaha!" Gerson gives Asgore a proud tug on his shoulder. "Now we can finally get to the interesting techniques."

"Y...yeah, sure."

Gerson helps Asgore start his walk by gently coaxing him with his hand on his back. "Took a lot out of you, didn't it? Wahaha! It did so myself when I managed to finally summon my hammers. Don't you worry about it though, you should be back to normal after a nice bath and some meditation. I'll send your food up while you meditate. Sounds good?"

"Y...yes."

Gerson's laugh goes through Asgore's ear and out the other. He barely even registered what Gerson said before, it's only because of the volume of his laugh that Asgore is registering it as something.

The rest of his mind is filled with relief. Filled more than it should ever be.

Toriel is safe, and more importantly, Gerson doesn't know about her.

Asgore tugs a smile.

"Yes."