Chapter 58: Okay, Now What?

"Remind me again why we're leaving Snowdin?" asked Flowey, glaring behind them at the peaceful town as if it were a personal offense in some way. "Isn't the mystery machine in the basement?"

Frisk shifted their grip, from one hand to the other, so they could tuck their chilled fingers into the long sleeves of their sweater. Whether the snow down here was real or magic, it was just as cold as the stuff topside. They looked down to the flower they were carrying—soft yellow petals and vibrant green leaves—then up to the thickly falling snow that marked the boarder between Snowdin and Waterfall.

"Will you be alright, Flowey?" they asked.

"I'll be fine, it's just a little snow." He sniffed disdainfully, but did coil down closer to the soil in his makeshift pot. "Now answer the question."

"We're meeting them halfway. It's a diplomacy thing."

"Is that usually intended literally?"

"Sometimes?" They shrugged. "And we're not even going that far, really."

Setting a paw on the human's small shoulder, Toriel offered a reassuring smile. "Given the tensions between the Royal Scientist and our floral companion," she remarked, "I am certain that neutral ground will help."

"Yeah, it's totally all for me and the doc," the flower scoffed. "Not to help keep you and King Fluffybuns from lighting the place up, not at all."

That was probably a valid concern, but…

"Well that's another reason Waterfall is a good option," Frisk murmured softly.

Flowey snorted.

"I admit, I am… concerned about this meeting." It was quiet when she paused, the only sound being the crunch of snow underfoot. "But no matter what happens, I'll keep you safe, my child."

Their conversation drifted into silence as they walked, muted by the thick snow falling and swirling and generally making it hard to see. Toriel focused on a flame cupped in her palm, holding it for warmth as much as for the extra light. It was hard to see the path with all the snow blowing about.

Frisk didn't need it, though. They knew the route by heart.

After a minute or so walking, the snow under their feet became slush and the sound of rushing water took over the frozen quiet. Soon enough the air cleared of white entirely, the chill blues of Snowdin had been completely replaced by the dark purple tones of Waterfall. The flickering glow of Toriel's fire glinted off the surface of puddles, off the river flowing to their left, and off pillars of water cascading down from somewhere far above.

It was beautiful.

And empty.

Not that there weren't monsters around—it wasn't the heartbreaking silence of an Underground made barren, thank goodness. Frisk could hear monsters in the area, their murmuring voices mixing with the sound of rushing water.

But there was no soft chuckle, no low voice quipping about legally-required breaks and planning to head to Grillby's bar.

No glimmer of a star, promising as many chances as they might need.

Frisk paused, eyes flicking between the blank stretch of stone and the vacant sentry station—one loss they were thankful for, and the other one that they were determined to set right. Their grip on plastic tightened.

The group continued on.

When they came upon the first wide stream of water flowing over the path, Toriel simply scooped up Frisk and waded through—and then just didn't set them down. Flowey grumbled about being double carried, but it was really nothing more than a token protest.

There was no sign of Undyne.

Papyrus had made a tough call, choosing to forgo joining them on this venture in order to head her off: they were going into Waterfall, after all. Undyne either needed to be stalled temporarily or brought up to speed right away. For either route, Papyrus was undoubtedly the best choice.

Other than Alphys, of course, and obviously the Royal Scientist needs to focus on other priorities right now.

Like the upcoming meeting.

Which Frisk definitely isn't worried about.

At all.

The phone call had actually gone pretty well, after all, even despite its rocky start. So surely they don't need to be concerned about discussing the same sorts of topics in person.

Right?

Right.

"Here we are, my child."

Frisk startled, glancing around to confirm that, indeed, they had arrived. Very gently, Toriel set them down in the middle of the large room with four budding bridge-seeds and a scattering of luminous mushrooms.

"It is a nice place to meet, isn't it, my child?"

"I guess," they answered, taking in the drippy room.

It's peaceful and quiet, at least, and there was plenty of water around in case of any argumentative fires: Frisk thought it'd probably work out pretty well. Although, for being in a cave, they felt a little exposed. They couldn't help but think the small chamber tucked away around the corner and across the water would be even better—there was a bench back there and everything.

Almost as if she'd had the same thought, Toriel picked up one of the pink bridge-seeds and carried it over to one of the river pools. The plant made a pitiful little squeak—either in protest or interest, it's impossible to tell—but she paid it no mind. With a gentle push, the bud floated along the water for a bit before coming to a stop against a short boardwalk, nearly out of sight.

"There is a bench on the other side of that wall," she explained with a gesture, and Frisk hoped they looked properly surprised. "It is mostly hidden, so you will be safe there while I confirm their intentions."

It was probably an unnecessary measure, but Frisk appreciated it nonetheless.

They only had one shot, after all.

Realizing they should probably ask, even though they knew the answer already, Frisk said, "What's with the bri- er, the pink flowers?"

"Oh!" Toriel smiled, taking another of the plants over to the water. "Well, these are bridge-seeds. When four line up, they will bloom and you will be able to walk across them."

Seeing as their hands were already full holding a comparatively prickly flower, Frisk just stepped aside. Three, then four bridge-seeds in a row: as soon as they brushed leaves, the flowers bloomed and their petals stiffened.

That was always fun to watch. "Weird."

The plants were sturdy and stable enough to stand on, but only to a point: for example, a small human child could cross safely. As lighthearted as Toriel could be, she'd probably sink them. As such, the motherly monster didn't follow Frisk when they walked across the now-blooming flowers.

First order of business then: they crouched to look under the bench.

Yep, quiche confirmed.

Toriel, leaning out around the corner to still see them, smiled encouragingly and waved them on before turning back out of sight. No doubt she was watching the far entrance to the grassy cavern, waiting for the other half of this "diplomatic meeting" to arrive.

Feeling suddenly more nervous, Frisk sat at the bench and set Flowey beside them.

"Do…" They swallowed drily. It felt like their voice didn't want to come out louder than a whisper. "Do you think this will work out alright?"

Past the other side of the bench, a blue flower nodded as the air shifted slightly. "I just wasn't prepared for the responsibility," it murmured, almost sorrowful.

Flowey scowled at the other flower. "Mo— Toriel can handle King Fluff-face, but I doubt that'll even be necessary." Then, purposefully loud, he added, "It'll be fine."

"Really?"

"It'll be fine," the blue flower echoed.

Frisk managed a smile, then sighed and pulled their feet up onto the bench so that they could rest their chin on their knees. "Still. I wish Papyrus was here,"

And sure, Papyrus wasn't exactly the most graceful conversationalist—but he did have a charisma of his own, and he always seemed to know what to do to defuse a tense situation.

But Papyrus wasn't here at the moment, and that meant Frisk would be flying solo in the role of mediator—on two fronts, no less.

(At least they had experience.)

Flowey folded his leaves, one over the other, and looked—shock of shocks—like he might actually agree. If he was planning to say something, however, he didn't get a chance.

"They're here," Toriel called out, her voice carefully pitched to be just loud enough for them to hear from the other side of the wall. "Do not be afraid, my child. I will keep you safe."

Flowey huffed, expression inscrutable before resolving to vague annoyance.

From the other side of the wall, they could hear some splashing and stuttered apologies waved off by a familiar regal (but fondly kind) voice. There were a few more sounds of motion, footsteps, and then it fell quiet—they'd seen each other.

"Dreemurr."

"Tori," that low voice answered. Then he paused and, sadly, corrected, "Toriel. It… has been a long time. How are you?"

For all her fire, her tone now was chill as ice. "You knew where to find me, through all these years, and you did not. So don't go acting concerned now, Dreemurr." There was a rustle of cloth, and it was easy to picture the stormy expression Toriel surely had as she crossed her arms. "We are here to discuss something altogether more important than our old disagreements."

"Y-yes, w-w-we need to… to go over what we know, " And that would be Alphys, stuttering and getting softer by the word. "About… S-Sans…"

Frisk stood up, snatching the tupperware as they went—Flowey hissed a quiet 'hey, watch it!' for their trouble—and then they walked over to the boardwalk on the water. They couldn't see around the corner, of course, but they could hear a bit better.

"We will do so," Toriel was saying, "as soon as I have your word—both of you—that you will not hurt my child, nor my child's… friend."

"That's me," Flowey whispered, with a smug grin.

Frisk returned the smile, glad that their kinda-mother would even acknowledge the flower as their friend. They could understand her caution, but they were also very glad to see how much it had waned since that first encounter in the Ruins.

Another sound of shifting fabric, probably the big purple cloak the king was always wearing. "You have my word, Toriel. I will do them no harm."

"S-same," added Alphys. "I'd never… uhm, I won't hurt them."

There was a long heavy pause before, unexpectedly, Toriel said, "…You're wearing the yellow sweater."

"I, ah, yes." Asgore sounded sheepish. "I thought it would be unwise to wear my usual… outfit."

"Your armor, you mean?" She scoffed but, surprisingly, it seemed that some of the standoffish chill was gone. "Yes, Dreemurr, that would have been dumb."

They heard a somewhat embarrassed chuckle.

"Ugh, c'mon." A leaf impatiently tapped at the rim of his plastic pot. Then, suddenly enough that Frisk startled and almost dropped him, Flowey shouted, "Are you guys done out there or what?"

That prompted a surprised squeak—probably Alphys—and a heavy sigh—definitely Toriel. There were footsteps, and then the kind monster came into view, leaning out over the bridge-seed flowers.

"Are you certain, my child?"

Frisk and Flowey shared a look that was more of a conversation, the flower sort of insistently gesturing with his petals while the human found themself hesitating. Then, holding on to their determination, they nodded.

Another sigh. "Alright. You may join us."

With a deep breath, Frisk walked to the edge of the wooden boards, crossed the sturdy pink flowers, and stepped back into the main room.

Asgore was… really big. That always seemed to be the first thing Frisk noticed, followed by 'fluffy'. The king under the mountain absolutely towered over everyone—not even counting his horns—and he had the broad shoulders to match. But even despite his understandably imposing stature, he was also just sort of… dorky?

The yellow heart-patterned knit sweater he was wearing under his long purple cloak probably contributed to that impression. Plus, he was a bit damp from all the water, and his fur was frizzing as it dried.

When Asgore spotted them, he froze.

In perfect contrast, after a moment's shock of her own, Alphys looked about ready to combust—fidgeting and turning and looking around as if she couldn't quite believe what she was seeing. It wasn't panic, but the short dinosaur-like monster was definitely freaking out. The large messenger bag she had slung over her shoulder swung a bit wildly as she turned, and ended up bopping her on the nose.

From their safe position behind goat-mom, Frisk gave a small wave.

Yellow claws scrambled to adjust taped-on glasses, eyes wide behind the lenses. "Oh my god—" she gasped. "You're a— a—!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Flowey bobbed side to side, a full-body flout. "We all have eyeballs, doc, we can see that they're human."

"How did, but I— oh my god, I was so distracted, I didn't even…" Alphys drifted off into rapid muttering, nervously chewing on her thumbclaw.

"My name's Frisk," they said, deciding that it was as good a time as any to start off the introductions. "And, um, this is Flowey."

The flower grinned, and with his usual unsettlingly false cheer, greeted, "Howdy!"

"…Howdy. It is good to meet you, Frisk, Flowey." Though he still looked shaken, the boss monster seemed to have found his footing again. Actually, he looked relieved. "I am King Asgore Dreemurr." With a gesture, he added, "This is Dr. Alphys, my Royal Scientist."

"H-h-hiya!" The aforementioned scientist was shaking in her lab coat. "I'm Dr. Alphys… um, but, I guess he just s-said that so… Uhm, t-this is a little random, but how did you and Sans know each other?"

Right into a hard question, so simple—so complex—and they still had no idea how to answer. Frisk hadn't known what to say when Papyrus had asked, they didn't know now, but they had to think of something.

So they did what they always did: kept moving forward.

"Sans… he saved my life." It was hard to talk about, even in vague terms. "I was stuck, and he saved me, and now he's stuck."

"S-stuck…" repeated Alphys, thinking. "Stuck where? Oh, you said, o-on the phone, that Sans is, um, 'outside of reality'? How did he get there?"

Frisk opened their mouth to reply, and found they had no more words. Because… they hadn't really thought about it before. They hadn't thought about how he got there, just that he had, and they had to get him back.

But they knew how.

Of course they did.

Both of them had died.

That wasn't unusual. They had died before—countless times—it had happened again and again (and again and again), because they couldn't stop.

But Sans had— for them—

The weight of a paw on their shoulder pulled them back to here and now, and Toriel gave them a reassuring smile. "I am here, my child."

"We'll say more when we know more," Flowey cut in. He shook his head, nearly whapping Frisk's nose with his petals. "It's a big load of time-space crap."

"So we've gathered," Asgore said, wisely moving the conversation along. "This machine you mentioned over the telephone, it could help?"

Taking a deep breath and manually holding their focus to the present, Frisk just shrugged. "Probably? I'm not that sure what it does."

"I, um, maybe could help with that," said Alphys, reaching into her shoulder bag to pull out a thick folder. "After the call, I spent a long time looking through the files in the lab. I c-couldn't, um, bring it all—way too much—but s-somebody working under the last Royal Scientist apparently did some research."

She held out the folder, and Frisk took a step forward to read the label: Anomalous Time-Space Readings, 7081, 9-15.

"There were some blueprints, too," Alphys continued, flipping the file open to show the top page. "Um, not complete ones, though. M-maybe they're related to the mystery machine?"

Frisk stared at the paper, at the inked and penciled notes in the margins that told of two monsters collaborating on the project. They didn't recognize the handwritings, but it was still familiar: both the tidy rounded print and the scrawl so messy it could easily be a different set of symbols altogether.

They'd seen it before, in the basement lab.

They weren't going to have to start from zero.

"Good, that's… that's good." Frisk sat on the damp grass, the nervous energy draining out of their limbs and leaving them feeling rather floppy.

"So, um, I was wondering if," the scientist-engineer hesitated, then pressed on, "if maybe we could see the lab t-today?"

Frisk just nodded, still somewhat dizzy with the relief that they had a starting point.

Toriel regarded them with concern, and—cautiously—crouched at their side. "My child, are you alright?"

They nodded. "Just…relieved. Tired."

The motherly monster gave a low hum, glanced over to the river behind them, then up to her once-husband. "Well. I suppose that I did wish to speak to you alone."

"Me?" Asgore has a low voice, a rumbling bass, but the word nearly came out as a squeak. Frisk had to swallow back laughter.

"Yes, you." Toriel turned back to the human child and asked, "Would you be alright traveling back by yourself, Frisk?"

"…Yeah, I'll be fine."

She frowned for a moment, looked at the river again, and stood. "You can take the boat back, my child. It will be safer, and faster."

Stiffening, Flowey yelped, "The boat!?"

"Okay," said Frisk, then paused. "Wait, but how…?"

Toriel reached into one of her pockets and pulled out a gold coin, still shiny under a thin coating of dirt. She took a moment to dust it off before flipping it into the pool, and it dropped into the cold water where the river stirred past.

The ripples shimmered.

Frisk blinked at the water for a long moment, wondering what that was about and feeling distinctly like they were missing something obvious. And feeling a bit peeved when, after a minute or so, they heard the tell-tale susurrus of a boat in the current heading their way.

Did it work like that this whole time, anywhere along the river?

They just had to drop in a coin?

Apparently they'd said that aloud, since Flowey twisted around to look up at them with something like surprise. "What, you never tried it?" he asked.

They just shook their head.

"I-if it's not too much trouble," Alphys asked suddenly, "um, do you mind if I join you? On the boat. I-I mean, assuming we can both fit on the boat? Which, uh—"

"It's fine," Frisk said, smiling. "Of course you can come."

"Assuming you fit on the boat," Flowey repeated back, half an honest stipulation and half a mocking jeer. "Why don't ya take my spot?"

They wiggled a finger at him threateningly, in a silent reprimand.

The plain wooden boat came into view, rounding the dark corner and drifting peacefully into the still pool of water. As it drew alongside the bridge-seeds, they could hear the almost musical voice of the cloaked figure standing at the prow.

"Tra-la-la, so many passengers today." The River Person hummed, regarding them from the darkness of their hood. "Human, monster... Flower."

"Rude," Flowey muttered.

Stuttering another thanks to Toriel, Alphys stepped onto the small boat. After waiting a moment for the rocking to settle, she hesitantly offered a claw to help Frisk teeter their way onboard as well. They had good balance in general, but things were complicated with their hand full of plastic plant pot.

Frisk plopped down, ignoring the dampness of the wood, and held the tupperware between their knees. As soon as they were all settled—and said a few goodbyes, for good measure—the boat slowly turned, drifting out of the still pool and onto the river proper.

And then they noticed that Flowey was keeping his leaves well within the meager protection provided by the old spaghetti-stained bin.

"D-do you… not like water?" asked Alphys, trying to find something to talk about. "I mean, since y-you're—"

Before she could finish the thought, Flowey bristled—literally, with small red thorns dotting his stem. "Well excuse me," he hissed, "for not liking the idea of being dumped overboard."

Frisk frowned, just a bit. "I wouldn't let that happen."

The flower looked as though he wanted to scoff at that, but didn't actually know what to say. His face screwed up, closed down, and he turned away.

"U-uhm, I'm sorry, I, uh…" Alphys fidgeted, looking around nervously for a distraction. "I didn't mean to, um, w-worry you…"

He scoffed, but quietly, and didn't look at her.

"He can be a little… prickly," Frisk offered.

"No, no, I-I was pretty rude before. On the call." She wrung her claws. "I mean, I didn't know what to expect, s-so, um, it's fair that he doesn't either?"

The conversation petered to a stand-still at that, and the rest of the boat trip passed in a not-quite-companionable silence.

(Alphys plainly wanted to talk more, but didn't know how to start again.)

When the River Person finally pulled over a few minutes later, it was beside a bit of land between snowy trees that jutted out slightly into to the frigid water. Alphys stepped out of the gently rocking boat, took a few steps, then stopped—too hesitant to head into the small town, even if she did know the way. Which she probably did, actually.

A bit unsteady on their feet, Frisk followed her off the boat and started toward Sans and Papyrus's house.

"Tra-la-la…"

They paused, glancing back to the River Person. The cloaked figure was staring back at them, though Frisk couldn't actually see their eyes. Then, slowly, the River Person turned to look up to the cave ceiling far, far overhead.

"Somewhere, it's Tuesday," they said, ever vague. "So be careful."

"What the heck's that supposed to mean?" griped Flowey, still glowering at the water.

Frisk had no idea, so they simply nodded as if they totally did.

The two of them watched as the River Person steered back into the current, and the water carried the boat and its ferryman away into the darkness.

"That was kinda foreboding," Frisk finally remarked.

"Only for 'somewhere'," Flowey shot back.

Author's Note:

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Undertale.

Let's all just talk it out, like civilized monsters.

NOTE:
This chapter will be re-positioned from Chapter 62 to become Chapter 58 on Dec. 15th, so heads up! That's where it fits best, so that's where it'll be put.

It's now December!
Once again, I say—how?!

I wish all of you heading into finals the best of luck! I hope this update doesn't distract you from studying (too much, at least). And also, happy holidays!

As previously established, by the new update plan, the next chapter for this fic will be posted in February. Bit of a wait, but I am feeling a lot less stress writing these days; I am so glad I don't have to try and rush a chapter for the 15th.
Anyway, this chapter grew three-fold over the past two-week's delay, which I'd say was worth it! I had gotten stuck because I wrote the boat scene as the start of the chapter and then I couldn't figure out how to proceed, glad that's sorted.

Anyway, thank you again (a million, million times) for all the reviews, follows, and favorites!

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Stay safe out there! See ya on the flipside, everyone!