Author's Note:

I'm very glad to see all the people who're reading the story so far. Don't forget, leave a review if you can! I'd really appreciate it.

"While in the merry month of May, now from me home I started, left, the girls of Tuam were nearly broken-hearted! Saluted father dear, kissed me darling mother, drank a pint of beer, me grief and tears to smother! Then off to reap the corn and leave where I was born! Cut a stout, black thorn to banish ghosts and goblins! A brand-new pair of brogues to rattle over the bogs, and frighten all the dogs on the rocky road to Dublin…"

"A-one, two, three, four, five! Hunt the hare and turn her down the rocky road!"

"And all the ways to Dublin, whack, follol de-daaaah!"

The sun beamed down on the men as they made their way back to their encampment, bringing along their prisoners. Cu Chulainn had had yet another successful expedition and his large Irish army were quite happy with their haul, singing merrily as they marched through the forest. They'd intercepted not only an important message for the King of the Monsters, the "King Under the Mountain" himself, oh no…they'd gotten the messenger too, a FIRE ELEMENTAL. And not just any fire elemental, but Sir Grillersby, better known as Grillby.

The burning, fiery monster was currently clad in cold iron chains around his arms and legs, being shuffled along with other random monsters that Cu Chulainn's scouting platoon had picked up as they continued to sing, arriving deep, deep inside the recesses of the dark forest they were camped out at. As the sun softly filtered in through the canopy above and shadows danced and twirled upon the forest floor, Grillby took notice of just how many humans were there, and not only that, how many civlians.

Civilians. Of all things. Clearly, Cu Chulainn had brought along not only a horde of men to do his work in the continuing struggle for dominance over Ireland that was the greatest struggle monsters and men fought in. No, he'd brought in all their family and friends too. Grillby's yellowish eyes blazed a bit as he looked over at a large table, where Cu Chulainn was slowly cutting up a large roast and giving out piece after piece to various women and their children.

One of them looked very special indeed, she and her child both had vibrant eyes of icy blue, and the child unmistakably had the same ears and mouth and nose of Cu Chulainn, though his eyes were that of his mother's, and his hair, though long, was the same oddly milky shade of brown as hers. She held out her plate as Cu Chulainn carved some slices of the roast for her with a rather sharp dagger.

THWACK.

Grillby gaped in surprise as the other monster prisoners whispered and murmured among themselves. Several rabbit-like monsters were amazed, an unfortunate mer-woman cringed, going "ooooh'. A short, more humanoid monster with reddish hair on his head and his arms and legs, a rare leprechaun, went "Holy shit" as he gazed on this, turning to the only monster among the prisoners NOT tied up…a cute little faintly doggish, cat-like thing with black hair flopping down its head, white fur, a little white tail, and cute little paws and black nose and eyes.

A Temmie.

"Did you see that?" The leprechaun asked as the Temmie, who was currently being gently petted by a human, nodded a bit.

"A most surprising thing." It said, Grillby staring. Temmie almost always didn't speak like that! They spoke in rather garbled English, and frequently remarking on how they were all "Temmie", and "Don't forget mah fren" and said "Hoi" to greet you. This Temmie evidently spoke perfect English. It was really astounding. "She's in quite some trouble."

Instead though, the humans around just rolled their eyes, a few sighing or chuckling and some quietly shaking their heads as Cu Chulainn closed his eyes a bit, then cut up a much larger piece of roast for his wife and child. "Is that enough?" He inquired.

His wife nodded. "Much more like it. You should know by know a growing boy needs to eat!" She told him, putting the plate in her son's hand as he found a spot at a table to eat and began to carve the piece up. She tugged on Cu Chulainn's ear, but he just took it, staring back into her eyes as she went on. "Think of your son more, Cu Chulainn! If you thought half as much about how much your son doesn't see you enough than you do about battle plans, you'd be a far better father."

With that, she went to go sit with her son as Cu Chulainn sighed and finished up carving the roast. Not much was left, but he passed out the remainder of it to, of all things, the prisoners, urging them to come over one at a time, pointing quickly with his gauntleted finger, one after the other, Grillby saved for last.

"I don't really "eat"." Grillby told him. "You can give it to someone else." He said, keeping his gaze firmly set into Cu Chulainn's eyes as the Irish war hero nodded curtly, and then walked up, stepping away from the table and moving over towards a nearby tree where a skeleton was tied up. Grillby flinched. Oh dear, it was Courier from Asgore's 1st Platoon. The poor skeleton was nervously clutching at his neck, missing a few ribs, and both feet, one leg, and one arm…all of which little kids were playing with, whacking at each other as they wore food bowls atop their heads.

"I am Gladiator Maximus!" One of the kids proclaimed, holding up poor Courier's left leg as another child held up Courier's left ARM, Cu Chulainn setting the plate of roast boar down in front of the skeleton monster for him to eat, turning to glance at the children playing at Greek gladiators.

"No fair, I wanna be Gladiator Maximus!" the second kid bawled.

"Too bad, I called it!"

"You got to be it last time!"

"Then you can be Minimus!"

"You take that back!"

"Minimus! Minimus!"

"I said take it back!"

"They cannot even fight without fighting." Cu Chulainn intoned as Courier nervously munched on his meal, looking up fearfully at Cu Chulainn. "Be glad they find you entertaining. The alternate would be making you dust." He told the skeleton monster as he made his way back to Grillby, looking him over, folding his arms over his chest. "You and the other prisoners, save for the Temmie, will be kept in the western wing, along with our women and children. As evidenced by my wife, you can see she's more than a match for any of you. It was HER idea to keep prisoners there."

"So she insisted she could handle it? Why do you allow her to push you around so?" Grillby was truly confused. "You're Cu Chulainn. Shouldn't she be doing what you demand?"

"She's my wife. I don't need any other reason." The long-haired Irish hero intoned. "Cooperate and you won't die. Try to run, try to hurt any of us, and you suffer." He added, speaking to Grillby and the other prisoners before him. "Your lord and his men have no idea we're here. Asgore doesn't know. Nobody knows but us, and we aren't going to let you go until your lord surrenders at last."

"You will call him King Maecoal." Grillby growled out, a bit of sparks rising off his frame.

"Where's his castle? Where's his lands?" Cu Chulainn inquired, raising an eyebrow up. "I'll tell you what I told him when we first met on the field of battle, when he lost them both, and was left with only his subjects; "Where's your crown, King Nothing?"

Now it was Grillby who lashed out, swinging his chained-together hands at the fiery-haired Irishman, everyone else gasping as he smacked across Cu Chulainn's face. The cold iron may have clearly heavily dulled the power Grillby had, but even so, it felt like being struck by a very hot glove left to burn over a fire. Cu Chulainn slowly turned his head back, looking into Grillby's face.

"Sir Grillersby." Cu Chulainn murmured. "That was your one. I promise, you won't get another free hit on me." He added. "Don't make me angry."

With that, he headed off to his own tent, being handed the Temmie to take with him, Grillby and the other prisoners sent away as Cu Chulainn sighed and sat down in his makeshift bed, putting the Temmie down next to him.

"I'm very surprised you're so well behaved. I thought you'd burst into a rage."

"You thought I'd get angry." Cu Chulainn remarked and he slowly closed his eyes, and gripped his knees tight with his gauntleted hands. "Let me let you in on a little secret. I'm always angry."

He, however, was not the only one suppressing a burst of rage. Tobias clenched his fists tightly around the books he had as he made his way out of his father's study, yet another homeschooling session completed once again. Such policy was commonplace in the city, but Tobias hated it. It wasn't that his father was a dumb man. But he was a very ignorant one. Tobias had never heard such misinformation in his entire life.

The problem was that he kept hearing it every single day. He wished his dad would, for once, stop talking about monsters.

"You take what I've said to heart, son." Tobias's father insisted warmly, giving his son a pat on the head as Tobias grunted a little and headed down the stairs, to his bedroom. He tossed the books against the wall and they flopped down onto the floor as he dusted himself off, and went to the door. CLICK! He locked it, and then slid out the window, making his way across the sidewalk and off for the park.

And for Toriel, who was helping him learn basic blue magic. She smiled soothingly at him, seeing his exasperated face as she sat down with him under a tree, soft wind blowing through her fur as she ruffled his hair. "Another one of those days?" She asked. "My dearest sympathies." She told him as he, in turn, smiled back in that way he always did. "I know you'd like nothing more than to run away from your father, but it isn't a good idea right now."

"Especially since he could just pay people to drag me back." Tobias grunted out, burying his face in his hands. His father was very rich, after all, because his brother was the lord of the town. It was HIS fancy manor up at the hill that overlooked everything, his tax policies, his will that decreed who could and couldn't build anywhere. And unfortunately he wasn't any better than Tobias's father. He'd insisted that monsters couldn't build any houses on the innermost sections of the city, they had to live on the outskirts or else pay an exorbitant fee and hire guards.

Really, it meant making a prison for any monster that did that, because you would always be spied on by the guards you'd just bought from the city.

"When you're old enough to strike out on your own, then leave, and never come back. Until then, try to make the best of what you have now."

"I do have you." Tobias confessed, sheepishly smiling up at Toriel as she warmly smiled back, and he kissed her on her hands. "I don't know what I'd ever do without you."

"If you were prince of the land, would you be happier, Toby?" Toriel asked him as he held up one hand along with hers, as she closed her eyes. It had taken her a lot of time to learn the basics of blue magic, she only knew a tiny bit, but that was good enough. Once someone with magical talent learned blue magic, it became almost instinctive, and Tobias would soon be good enough to-

There! There, a spark of blue light was often the best that Tobias could manifest in his palm but today, it glowed a lovely shade of blue indeed, and he giddily hugged Toriel tight, burying himself in her furry frame.

"Oh, if I was Prince Ms. Toriel, I'd give you ten thousand hundred gold pieces and I'd throw you a parade every day and I'd kiss your feet!" He proclaimed joyously. "Thank you, thank you! This is amazing! You're amazing!"

Toriel blushed a little. She knew what Tobias felt about her, and as flattered as she was, and as nice as he was and as intelligent and dedicated as he was, he was frankly just too young for her. She was, after all, a good ten years his senior. In monster terms, what he had was a baby crush. Maybe in another decade he might have been a very worthy suitor, but the thing was…and it was something she hadn't yet told him…she was secretly betrothed to another, to the son of King Maecoal, Prince Asgore.

She'd have to tell Toby eventually, she knew that much-

Then her eyes went wide as she gazed up the hill, her mouth agape. "Um…T-Toby…" She murmured aloud, gulping nervously. "…your, um…your uncle's mansion is…dear lord, the whole thing's on FIRE!"

Tobias immediately broke the hug, turning his face to look. Sure enough, the entire mansion was brilliantly ablaze! People were screaming, cries ringing through the air, a rotten stench like bad garlic and fat wafting through the air, a noxious cloud of black smoke billowing up from the mansion. Guards were racing as quickly as they could to carry water and put it out, and barely visible, out on the front courtyard, having just escaped, was a small group of humans who were being kneeled over by what was distinctly a ghost, who was tending to the wounds of a very small child, who appeared to be badly burned indeed.

"Happy, is your brother Napoli alright?"

"I don't feel so good…" The two young lads were in bad shape. They were still coughing heavily, covered in soot and some serious-looking burns all over. Their father had, in life, been the court mage until he'd tragically exploded on the spot during a regrettable magical incident. Now he was a ghost monster, all translucent and whispy and looking much like he did in life, but with very little clothing on, save for a simple shirt and pants. His hair hung down in rolls as he looked over young Happy and Napoli, poor Mr. Bloke sighing deeply.

"Oh, non bene." He murmured as people raced by with large buckets of water, trying to pour the fires out. He looked down at his see-through hands, cringing. He couldn't do green magic anymore, he could barely do anything but teach others how to do magic, and he'd been trying to teach his sons, but they weren't that good at it. "Mi dispiace, sons, but you two will have to heal yourselves. I've been showing you the technique for ages, time you put your skills to use! Pronto!"

"Whatever's going on?!" Tobias's father demanded as he raced up the hill to where the ghostly Mr. Bloke was, seeing the mansion turning into an inferno of fire that couldn't be fought off. "What happened?"

"Somebody evidently set some tapestries on fire, and when they went, FA-WOOSH!" One of the servants intoned, raising his hands up into the air. "The high beams went, everything began to collapse and burn up, especially in the main hall, we all had these gigantic kegs of fine wine and so it turned into a massacre of flaming death! It was awful! Awful!"

"The poor lord's head was split open by a burning, falling high beam." Another servant confessed. "Ironic that his gold will be fine, since he put it in that basement…this year was his greatest haul in taxes, and now he'll never be able to use it."

"I believe, sir, that you and your family are his only relatives. By law, everything shall pass to you." Mr. Bloke told Tobias's father as his eyes went wide.

Now Tobias really would be a prince. But he had no idea things were about to get much worse.

…

…

…

… "You're sure you can handle this, Leopold? We have been at it for a solid three hours now."

"I'm going to give it one more try. I can do this, Master Gerald!"

The long, white hair of Leopold the mage flickered about in the swift winds billowing around him as he stood atop a hill not far from the city. He focused his eyes upon the straw dummy in front of him, gritting his teeth. He had no idea he was being watched from afar by W.D Gaster, the young skeleton monster having decided to follow Leopold and Gerald the day after the incident with the burnt-down house. Now Gaster stayed quiet as a mouse, black eyes gazing on as Leopold's body glowed brightly, shades of many colors flickering about. He was clearly skilled in far more magic than just blue! Most human mages focused on one or two types of magic, but the shifting colorscape of Leopold made it clearly he was more a jack of all trades!

But based upon the very small, puffy little fireball he'd finally made pop up on the straw man, Leopold was a master of none.

"Damn it all!" Leopold yelled out, groaning as he hung his head ."How degrading. This is the best I can do, really?" He muttered, as he shook his head back and forth.

"It couldn't be more pathetic." Gerald confessed. "…oh, wait, actually, it could. You could only be capable of making people's magic stronger and last longer for a good fifteen seconds." He added, gesturing at himself and giving Leopold a snarky look as the young man sighed.

"Yes, you're right, you're right. I'm sorry, Master Gerald. I'm just so depressed that I've not been able to make a single fireball bigger than a puff of smoke." The young man said. "The court mage named Bloke could summon fires as large as dragons themselves! Turn pebbles into gold! He could make things explode in a shower of sparks!"

"Yes, a feat he did to himself VERY nicely." Gerald intoned. "Did they ever actually find all the pieces of his body?"

"I heard no, actually." Leopold confessed as he shuddered in disgust. "The poor, poor man. Bits. Nothing but bits and a drifting soul left behind! Now turned into a monster, the same way so many dead become skeletons!"

"That's just not true!" Gaster found himself yelling angrily, stomping his foot as the two turned to look at him. "Yo-You take that back, I was not a dead kid, I was not, I was not!" He yelled, tears beginning to brim in his eyes. "Y-You don't know what you're t-talking about!" He said, balling his fists in rage, beginning to actually rattle his bones! They shook and quivered about as Leopold stared at him, then at Gerald.

"…it's the skeleton lady's son." He realized aloud. "You want me to take him home, Master Gerald?"

"If you could."

"Okay, c'mon, c'mon." Leopold motioned for Gaster to follow him down the hill, back towards town as Gaster gave him a dark look. "It will soon be dark, your mother is no doubt looking for you."

"You don't actually care, you think we're all revenants! That…that disgusting word!" Gaster snapped. "You have no idea what it feels like to be looked at as if you're just some dead body walking around, a living desecration of a child of all things! It's…it's just so-"

"Frustrating? Infuriating? Incredibly aggravating and angering and horrible and it makes you want to just scream in their faces until they stop believing it?" Leopold asked as Gaster stopped in mid-sentence and looked back at him, astounded. "I know how you feel. How do you think I was treated upon gaining magic? Like a freak. Something unnatural and creepy, and even worse than the abuse I got from the hair you see." He added, holding up a long lock of white hair.

Gaster had never really seen white hair on humans unless they were old. This young man wasn't even out of his teens. "How…did you get that white hair?" He found himself inquiring as Leopold sighed.

"What's your name?"

"Gaster. W.D Gaster."

"Well, Gaster, my name's Leopold. I was younger than you when, unfortunately, several monsters decided they'd had enough of my father. He had ventured upon insult, and they vowed revenge, and they tossed things through the windows of my home, drinking all the while, and because we were out in the farmland, nobody was around to help. It got worse, because then one of them stuffed a strap of cloth into one of the bottles they had and tossed it inside the home." Leopold grumbled. "They'd had enough of hearing my father and mother muttering cruel vulgarities and insults under their breath. Had enough of my dad stiffing them for payment on tilling the fields. They felt he didn't pay them as much as the humans."

"Did he?"

"No. He didn't. That was the sad thing. I'd thought that was wrong. It was harder for me to think that after they did what they did." Leopold muttered as Gaster nervously cringed, Leopold finally arriving a the city gates. "So, where do you live?"

"East and main, sir."

"Just call me Leopold. Or Leo."

"Leopold, then, what…kind of monsters were they? Merpeople? Puca? Elementals?"

"No. Skeleton monsters." Leopold said with a bit of a sad smile as Gaster cringed even more. "Their visage illuminated by the burning fire of my house was seared into my mind. I went white that day after barely escaping the house…and luckily for me, one of their compatriots who was standing by watching did the right thing, and helped get me to safety."

"No wonder you don't like my kind much." Gaster murmured. "I'm…sorry to hear that. But I've lost family to humans."

"Of course you have. Skeleton monsters are quite rare. I don't want you to forgive me, just to understand what I feel. And I'm not MAD…at your kind. You scare me." Leopold said as Gaster whipped his head back in his direction as they finally reached East and Main, the quilt of night beginning to fall over the city, long shadows cast each way from the dimly lit lamps hung all about. "Monsters like you terrify me. Magic terrifies me. When I first got my powers, it was…" Leopold trailed off. He looked like he was suppressing a shudder. "I did feel like a freak. I was so scared. I felt like I wasn't a person anymore. Gerald helped me see otherwise, and even then, I…I get uncomfortable whenever he tries to pat me on the back, or hold my hand, or hug me. I can't help it. I just can't."

With that, he sighed, putting his hands in his pockets. "But the thing is, a brave man faces his fears and conquers them not by pretending they aren't there, but by acknowledging they are, and going forward anyway." Leopold told Gaster. "That's the first step to making things right. Acknowledging a problem."

"…goodnight, Leopold."

"Goodnight, W.D Gaster."

The two then quietly nodded, heading off for their own respective homes, one a little bit wiser, the other a little more relieved. After all, a problem shared was a problem halved.

Unfortunately for Elisud, his attempts to master his green magic weren't being helped by sharing his struggles with his friends at the castle he now called home. Toriel had tried to send back some advice to him, but despite his best efforts to try and make the shield form again, it wasn't really working. Lord Llywelyn, Bowen, Gawain, Arthus, Dylann, all of them sat around the open courtyard of the castle as Elisud focused as much as he could.

"RRGGH! C'mon! Come…on!" Elisud moaned aloud, clenching his fists tightly, brow furrowed, gritting his teeth. "Pop…up! Give me that…shield! Come! On!" He roared out.

But, alas, nothing doing. He flopped down onto his knees in his green robes, moaning, panting heavily as sweat dribbled down his brow, Lord Llywelyn Ap Iorwerth helping him up as Arthus gave him some water to drink. "We did see a bit of a green glow about you, if that helps."

"You're very considerate but…I'm afraid that no, that does not help. In fact, it makes me feel rather worse." Elisud mumbled. "I've been at this for days now. Evidently I can only manifest it if I'm truly in danger, or those around me are."

"Maybe if one of us swung a sword at you it would work?" Gawain suggested as Iolo gave him a whack over the back of his helmeted head with his gauntleted fist. A faintly coconut-hitting-sound rang through the air as Gawain chuckled. "I jest, I jest!"

"Let's do something more reasonable." Lord Llywelyn offered warmly as he placed a hand on Elisud's shoulder. "Elisud, your healing skills would be highly valuable at the front lines of our recent skirmishes with the monsters. I'm certain Maecoal wants to make the land of Ireland his, there's been more and more recent attacks there from Prince Asgore and other generals. All of their attention seems to be focused primarily upon Ireland, and my friend, Cu Chulainn, actually sent out calls for aid."

"Cu Chulainn called for help? Him!? The demon himself?" The men looked astounded. Hearing this was like hearing that the Queen pooped out the window. It was just…inconceivable! Furthermore, the Irish did not like the English. At all. They hated the English more than monsters! At least King Maecoal was a puca, an Irish monster himself! The English, though…over and over again it was the same complaints and raging.

"They should all go back to where they came!"

"My grandfather and his father and his father's father suffered and died at English hands. I'd drive them all into the sea if I could."

"They're stuck up, pompous, arrogant, pretentious and I can't stand them!"

"They can go f—k themselves. Literally. I hope they make up some kind of apparatus that allows them to literally f—k themselves."

"He must be very desperate to call on us." Elisud remarked aloud as he rubbed his chin. He hesitated though, glancing at his friends. "…I don't know, though. I mean…I may be called to the front line. I don't want to truly hurt anyone."

"You won't have to. All of us here will do much more meaningful work on the front line than you could. Your hands are meant to heal, Elisud." Lord Llywelyn Ap Iorwerth told him, picking up the young, faintly bearded man's hands as he nodded down at him. "You'll be able to save many lives. Let us risk ours freely as we were asked to do…and you'll be waiting for us to return from the field, with a green balm and big smile in wait." He offered.

"Well…" Elisud hesitated again, but then he looked around at his friends. He'd been with them for such a long time now, and they all seemed to really need him. If they were going off to fight monsters, he couldn't just let them go just like that. They'd need the aid he could give them. And besides, Ireland wasn't too far away, his letters to Toriel wouldn't take that much longer to get to her with him being in the land of the green.

What was the worst that could happen?