Chapter Three: It cries out in the darkest night
The ceremony was not that much different than a human one, save it was older – much older. Serving as Queen and King, Toriel and Asgore stood at the dais as Frisk and Asriel walked arm-in-arm between the rows of incredibly full benches. Asriel was shaking, but Frisk's warmth at his side made him strong despite it, and he focussed on her. Their parents wore traditional robes, complete with the Delta Rune and armour, Asgore holding his trident, while Toriel held a sword – something gone long unseen since the beginning of their banishment.
When they reached the dais, everyone sat down, and Asgore crossed his trident with Toriel's sword, both of them serious, though neither could hide the glow in their eyes. The sun shone brightly down into the throneroom, giving everything a beautiful golden glow that also glinted off their weapons.
Wordlessly, still linked at the arms, Frisk and Asriel knelt down before their parents, and Toriel said, in a voice that hadn't been heard in so long, "You come to us with the desire to be mated for life. Is this truth?"
"Yes," they said together.
"You come to us with the desire to be linked in both body and soul for life," Asgore said in a similar voice. "Is this truth?"
"Yes."
Both the trident and the sword slammed down at once before them, centimetres from their knees, but neither flinched, which was a good sign. Wordlessly, Frisk reached up and took hold of the handle of the sword, but did not pull it free, as Asriel did the same with the trident.
"Do you take these weapons as promise to protect your mate to death?" Toriel asked.
"Do you take these weapons as promise to defend your love to death?" Asgore asked.
"We do," they said, their eyes meeting.
"Then do so, and rise as mates for life," Asgore concluded.
They did, and at once the entire room flooded with joy. Toriel placed her hands upon Frisk's shoulders, as Asgore did for Asriel, and all four grinned, the sombre mood vanishing at once.
Especially when Asriel whispered, "Dad, this thing is so heavy!"
None of the Dreemurrs could hide their laughter at that.
"Fucking awesome!"
This time, when Undyne and Alphys hugged them, they were prepared, and even Asriel laughed. The laugh became strained when Mettaton joined in, but it was still quite wonderful.
It was moments before the Puzzle Dance, many of Mettaton's "cutie-cronies" moving the benches to make room for it. Frisk, having taken much of Toriel's advice, still felt quite nervous about the entire prospect, unsure if her new husband would use puzzles or magic, but Asriel looked excited, which only added to that nervousness.
When everyone was allowed back onto the floor briefly, they were hugged again and again. Papyrus declared, "WHAT A WONDERFUL, WONDERFUL MATCH!" before bursting into happy tears.
sans extracted his brother from them carefully before he, to the shock of everyone watching, hugged Asriel, who was so surprised, himself that he forgot to hug back. That is, until sans said, in a strangely hoarse voice, "take care of her, weed, or you'll regret it."
Asriel snorted. "Like you did? Please, bastard."
That oddly satisfied sans, who let him go with a pat on the back. Then he hugged Frisk, who smiled and hugged back.
"protect him," said sans softly. "he needs your strength, frisk."
"I know," she agreed. "And I will. With my life."
He hugged her for longer than he did Asriel, and when he let go, he was already looking away. Frisk noticed, but before she could ask after him, her parents were there, beaming.
"Ready?" Toriel asked, her hands clasped before her. Frisk felt a wave of butterflies assault her, but she nodded, glancing at Asriel, who was now grinning.
Asgore waved them to the floor, raising a hand to silence the onlookers who now crowded along the walls. Slowly, Toriel and Asgore led their children to the floor, then left them alone to face each other.
Asriel and Frisk stared at each other, waiting for either on to make a move. Then, Asriel crouched into a stance, his hands igniting at once. Frisk waited, her hands behind her back (people could see they were empty). Asriel came forward, flinging swirls of magic in her direction, an she felt that tug to her heart like she always did – so familiar with Asriel, and her soul responded. He threw easy marks fist, and she barely had to move to avoid them.
When he grinned, she grinned back, and that was when Asriel became serious. The fire he summoned next were twirling circles of beaded flame, the gaps within so narrow Frisk had to work to avoid them. But once she had, and when she remained standing there without a fight, Asriel looked confused – until her smile crept into something devious. Then he understood.
With each increased volley of fire, she spared him, barely moving, her hands still behind her back after the attack finished. The monsters (and humans) who watched were rather shocked by this; humans couldn't use magic, true, but they at least expected Frisk to use a weapon and not spare Asriel every time.
Asriel was growing more and more tired. He had practised the entire time preparations were being made, but even at his best, still she spared him. (Toriel was grinning, and upon seeing this, Asgore understood at last, and was very proud.)
When he grew breathless, his determination dim, she walked up to him and stood a half-metre away. He attacked again, but she easily avoided it. When it was her turn, this time instead of sparing him, she reached out and, with one hand, and pushed him to the floor. He dropped like a stone, both from shock and exhaustion.
"Uh… Frisk wins?" Mettaton announced, sounding as confuse as Asriel felt. "Asriel is the loser until next year's anniversary, in which he'll be given a chance to prove his worth…?"
Asriel groaned and lay down on his back, shutting his eyes, all of his plans for the evening evaporating. Frisk knelt beside him and whispered, "Trust me, love: you wanted me to win."
"No," he growled tiredly.
"Oh yes," she corrected with a wink. "You did."