Patience
The stone floor clacked nicely underfoot. Each step echoing down the barren, grey hallway. Somewhere in the distance, he could hear birds chirping. Before him breathed a tall archway. Beyond, a soft yellow glow radiated. Slowly, carefully, he made his way inside, stopping each few steps to listen. If nothing else, the boy was endlessly patient.
All the way through the underground, through his journey, he had been careful, pensive, holding self control above all else. Each monster he encountered was met with an stoic figure which would move only to evade their attacks. When their frustration or fatigue piqued, they would find themselves countered, struck down in one fatal blow. In his mind, all else was agitated, quick to lose their disposition, and thus easy to outlast.
It was this mindset he fastened to himself as he entered the final room of his journey. Weeds crunched underfoot as the boy's eyes adjusted to the light. Golden flowers covered much of the floor, stunning in the sunlight which poured through the windows. A grand throne sat in the room's zenith, a deep purple cushion flanked by gold trimming, clearly befitting of royalty. Beside the throne knelt a monster, broad shouldered, donning an enormous royal robe, a crown sitting neatly on his head, framed by two large curved horns.
The boy had not been noticed, the gentle sound of secateurs pruning, and the soft humming of the monster filling the room. He took stock of the situation. This was undoubtedly the monster's leader, the one Toriel had warned him of so long ago. So the child waited. He simply stood there, immersing himself in the ambience of the room, biding his time until he was noticed. What would he do from there? The boy had no clue, but he had all the time in the world to think about it.
Eventually the monster rose up with a sigh, laying the secateurs upon the arm of his throne, wiping his forehead. He exhaled deeply as he turned around, calming himself. For a moment, the King's expression was unreadable, a mixture of confusion and surprise playing upon his face. A gasp slipped from his lips, and his visage immediately became grim.
Silence hung in the air.
"Oh."
The King adjusted his robe awkwardly.
"Hello there!...I trust your journey has been exciting? This must all be so new for you."
The King tried his best smile, a facade of warmth; shallow and illegitimate.
Silence reigned again.
"I see. …. Are you aware of what happens next?"
The boy nodded his head lightly.
"Good. Good."
Silence.
"Are you ready? If you have any unfinished business, I understand if you wish to go back."
The boy shook his head.
"I see."
For what seemed an eternity, they stared at one another, unblinking.
"Are you sure you have no loose ends? No friends to bid farewell….no….family?"
He shook his head.
"Alright. When you are ready, step forward."
Sweat ran down the King's forehead as the boy took a slow, tentative step forward.
"Human. Your journey is finally over….I'm sorry."
The King's eyes fell, his crown slipping down over them. For what he was about to do, he could not bear meet the child's eyes. He reached into his robe, pulling out a large red trident in the blink of an eye.
The boy simply stood there, staring at the King, at the monster who refused to meet his sight. Not for a moment doubting himself.
The King noticed that the child had not moved. His mouth ran dry, sweat piling on his forehead as his stomach plummeted. Hands trembling, his trident flashed blue. In a lethal arc, he brought it down at the child, passing harmlessly through him. He breathed out a short, staggered, fearful sigh of relief.
Yet the boy did nothing. Standing still. Simply waiting for the King to tire, for his opportunity.
The King looked upon the child once more, lip trembling. He had still not moved. Fearful, his trident flashed blue twice more, each strike passing harmlessly through the boy. The King could not bring himself to do anything more. He knew the boy would simply remain still no matter what he did. He didn't want this. If anything, he wanted a fight, someone who would strike back, who would dodge. Not this.
Blue strike after blue strike passed straight through the boy, no other attack even hinted at. So he stayed patient, stayed still, settled in for the long haul, as he had done with all the other monsters. Why should this one be any different?
The King exhaled deeply. His hands trembled more after each swing. The gratification of each missed strike crippled by his sins weighing upon him, the grim recognition of what must eventually happen. He couldn't give it up now. His people had put so much confidence in him, all of their hopes, all of their dreams. This was his duty. It wasn't for him. It wasn't for any voyeuristic pleasure, but for them.
He bit down. raising his trident in the air once more, eyes closed. The cold feeling of a single teardrop running down his face was all that accompanied him.
The trident flashed orange.