Part 2
The Warrior
Chapter 21
The knots in her stomach tightened. Her throat burned. The sick taste of vomit lingered on her tongue and the inside of her cheeks even after she finished emptying the contents of her stomach.
"What on earth were you thinking, Frisk?" Alice asked as she rubbed small circles on Frisk's back as the human hovered over the toilet, arms wrapped tightly around the porcelain god.
"I was thinking it would be a good idea to eat something," Frisk answered before she started dry heaving. The lack of vomit made the pain in her stomach even worse. In the back of her mind, she was extremely grateful she wasn't wearing the locket at this moment.
"You were literally dying two weeks ago," Alice said, her tone soft but scolding. "You spent ten days battling a poison nobody but you has ever survived, and now not even ten days later you're trying to return to life as if you were never so much as sick to begin with. Frisk, you know that's not how this works, do you?"
"Please don't lecture me when I have throw up in my hair, Alice." Even though she tried to keep her hair pulled back, some strands still managed to fall over her shoulders and get in the way. Frisk, disgusted, was ready for a haircut now more than ever.
"I'm just saying that maybe you should stick with soup and crackers and not the cheese and ham omelets Peter made for breakfast."
"I need to regain my strength."
"Yes, but there's a right way to do that. This isn't the right way."
As much as Frisk wanted to argue, she didn't. Of course, Alice wasn't wrong. However, whenever Frisk looked at her pale skin and boney limbs, she was gripped with fear of what happened to her. Not the almost dying like everyone else believed. What had her waking up in the dead of night, heart ready to explode as dread paralyzed her in place, was actually dying.
Not the dying and the day immediately resetting.
The dying and staying dead.
How dark and lonely death truly was.
Her weakened body was a reminder of that. Not just in appearances, but in the lack of strength in her legs to carry her or her arms to lift anything heavier than a paperweight. Frisk still wouldn't look into a mirror; the first and last time she did since waking up, she screamed at the top of her lungs and passed out from shock.
Frisk looked utterly pitiful. Skin and bones. Flesh without color. Hollowed cheeks. The darkest of circles under her brown eyes. Despite being human, Frisk believed she was scarier than any monster she could ever encounter in all of the Underground.
She didn't want to think about how much worse she could be if not for Beatrix's and Alice's healing magic.
"I just want to be me again," Frisk said, slowly easing down so that she was lying on the floor. "Or at least look like me."
Alice stroked Frisk's cheek. "It will take a long time, if ever, for you to return to the way you were before. If you try to rush the process, you will only make it worse on yourself."
"I wish you weren't right," Frisk muttered.
"Are you tired?"
"No." Yet as she said the word, Frisk's eyes were heavy. Her whole body was heavy. Everything was heavy.
She heard Alice respond, but she couldn't understand the words. The realms of unconsciousness pulled her in. Frisk fell under to the sound of Alice's voice.
"I almost died from poisoning once," Chara told Frisk as she sat alone in her room, bowl of soup in hand. Not wanting to eat in front of the others, Frisk brought her dinner to her room. Now alone with no company save Chara, Frisk realized she didn't want to eat at all.
"Are you actually telling me something about yourself, Prince Chara?" Frisk tried, but there was no bite to her words.
"Apologies for trying to make you feel better." His sarcasm was thick but not mean-spirited.
"Never would I have thought you of all people would try to make me feel better," Frisk mumbled. Chara didn't reply. They stared at each other for a moment before she returned to gazing at her food.
Try as Frisk might, she didn't know what her and Chara's relationship was. Certainly not friends, but not enemies either. They cared about each other in their own twisted way, but Frisk knew she disliked Chara more than she liked him. It was the same for him. Regardless, Frisk knew she couldn't continue on her quest without Chara there to verbally abuse her along the way.
It worried Frisk how addicted she was to this toxic relationship, yet at the same time, she couldn't bring herself to care beyond acknowledging their relationship for the unhealthy one it was.
"Why were you poisoned?" Frisk asked, genuinely curious. It wasn't often Chara revealed anything personal. She wanted to take advantage of the moment while she could.
"Long story short," Chara answered, "buttercups are not a substitute for cups of butter in a recipe."
Frisk snorted. "Some cook you must have been."
"I was eleven. Cut me some slack." When Frisk didn't respond, Chara pointed at the bowl and said, "You really should eat. Surviving death does not mean you need to look like it."
"Chara," Frisk called.
"Yes?"
"I hate you."
He didn't miss a beat. "I hate you too, Stripes."
While she drank the broth from her bowl, Frisk felt the corners of her lips rising against her will.
"This is stupid," Undyne muttered as she and Sans walked through the town. "I don't need a babysitter."
"These people don't trust you," Sans replied, barely looking her way.
"But they trust you?"
"About as far as they can throw me, but that's still a lot more than they trust you." Undyne growled, and Sans said nothing else.
As it turned out, the new hideout for the denizens of Snowdin Two was a small, isolated village on an island in Waterfall. Their escape route led them to the river, and the Riverman ferried the monsters to the island. Beatrix's sister Honey was a resident of the town and had received message of Snowdin Two's mass exodus. When the monsters arrived, Honey and many other monsters stood waiting to welcome the fugitives and show medical attention to anyone who needed it.
Especially Frisk, whose identity as a human was kept from the Waterfall monsters until it could be decided whether or not the secret should be revealed.
As for Undyne, she was only allowed to roam with either Sans or Papyrus as company. Thanks to Peter's tethering magic, Undyne may have looked to be unchained, but she could not go further than five feet from Sans. Undyne didn't like it, yet even she admitted it was better than having her head chopped off her neck.
"What are you doing, dummy?!"
Both Sans and Undyne turned their heads towards the sound of the voice to see Mon yelling at a collapsed Frisk. The armless monster was certainly not as nurturing as their rabbit friend. Mon poked Frisk with her toes. "You can barely walk. Why did you try to run after Carla?"
"Just wanted to see if I could do it." Frisk pushed herself upright and blew her bangs out of her eyes. Her face had dirt on it, and she appeared to have scratched up her arms and knees from her fall.
Unable to look at the frail human any longer, Sans turned his attention towards Undyne. He was surprised to see her observing Frisk. Snarling, Undyne turned away.
"You know she demands I train her to kill Mew Mew," Undyne stated as she and Sans kept walking. Neither feared being overheard. All the other monsters were trying so hard to avoid the duo it was unlikely any were within earshot.
Sans did know that. Frisk was sneaky, but not sneaky enough to make sure he didn't follow after her after their talk that night. "What did you say to her?"
"I said, 'No way, punk. Look at you. You're so weak, all anyone would have to do is walk past and the breeze would knock you over.'"
"She held her own against Mew Mew until the poison took effect," Sans reminded Undyne. "The human can't be all that weak."
"Maybe before, but not now," Undyne returned, "and considering nobody before the little punk has ever come close to surviving deathlust, we don't know if she'll ever recover to half of what she used to be. Even if I did agree to train her, it would still be sending her to her death."
"Since when did you care about the human?"
"Oh, trust me, I would still kill her if I didn't owe my life to her, but I don't train soldiers I don't expect to survive. Either I train you to take down opponents three times your size, or I send you home. I lost enough people as it is, and I don't plan on losing anymore."
To that, Sans had no response. He returned his gaze to Frisk and Mon, Papyrus now joining them. His twin and the girls were talking and laughing. Papyrus ruffled Frisk's hair, and she smiled as she playfully swatted his hand away. Without calling it out, Papyrus was being gentle to Frisk in a way that didn't make her feel fragile.
Ever since she woke from her coma, Frisk had been met with almost everyone treating her as if she would break at any moment if not handled with care. That was probably what helped convince her she needed to push herself the way she did in order for the others to think she could still take care of herself. Papyrus didn't do that. He might have had Frisk convinced he was too oblivious to notice the state she was in, but Sans knew better. As if it was effortless for him, which maybe it was, Papyrus treated Frisk as if nothing was wrong.
Unlike Sans, who could barely look at Frisk in this state because he knew in so many ways, this was his fault.
"Let's go," Undyne said, not noticing the shame Sans hid over Frisk. "I'm hungry, and I don't see standing how here is going to make a grilled cheese sandwich magically appear."
Although she acted otherwise, Frisk knew that Sans and Undyne were watching her and the others, and she knew when they left. After they were gone, she could breathe easy again. Despite trying to restore some type of relationship with Sans, Frisk still felt awkward around the skeleton monster. Then there was Undyne. If Frisk was being honest with herself, she was still a little scared of Undyne despite demanding the monster train her.
"I swear, if I have to eat your spaghetti one more time—" Mon was saying before she cut herself off. "Yo, Frisk, what's the matter?"
"Nothing's the matter," Frisk tried.
Papyrus wasn't fooled. "The Great Papyrus can tell something weighs heavily on your mind, human. Why not share? The Great Papyrus is a great listener."
"Yeah," Chara prompted, standing a few feet away. "Tell them, Stripes."
Taking a deep breath, Frisk said, "I really want my hair cut. Everyone has been so busy, I can't bring myself to ask anyone to take time out of their day to help. I'd do it myself, but I know I'll mess up."
Chara and Mon both snorted. Mon replied. "You know Alice would do it if you just asked. It wouldn't bother her to spare a few minutes to do a friend a favor."
"The Great Papyrus can do it for you," Papyrus offered. "Perhaps cooking isn't my calling after all. Perhaps I'm meant to be a hairdresser!"
"I'll just ask Alice," Frisk immediately said, hands flying up as if to ward off Papyrus and his imaginary scissors.
"You could have just asked, you know," Alice said that night, unknowingly repeating Mon. Paws combing through Frisk's hair, Alice asked, "How much do you want cut off?"
"All of it," Frisk answered.
"All of it?"
"Yes. I've been thinking about it, and I want my hair cut off. We don't have time to trim it regularly. Cutting it short is the most convenient way to go."
After discussing how to style it, the girls were silent as Alice cut Frisk's hair. Unable to help herself, Frisk watched as the brown locks fell to the floor. Her head felt lighter, and her neck chilled under this new and sudden exposure. In the world Frisk once new, this was considered a boy's haircut. Here in the world of monsters, it was a sign she was not the same person as before.
When Alice had finished and handed Frisk a mirror, Frisk studied her new reflection. Her locks were now a mere inch long. Her thick hair practically wrapped around her head.
"Thanks, Alice," Frisk said, showing her friend a warm smile. "It looks good."
"I'm glad you like it." Alice pat Frisk on the shoulder. "Dinner will be ready in a half hour. Be sure to wash up and dress for then."
As Alice left, Chara said, "Why didn't you just tell them the truth?"
"I did want my hair cut, so I didn't really lie. Besides, how do you know?" Frisk replied as she searched through her clothes for something clean. Her leggings were thrown out in case any deathlust lingered on them, but her shorts and sweater were still there. Had the weather not been so warm and humid, Frisk would have worn the sweater Toriel made for her.
The thought of her adopted mother sending a sharp pain through Frisk's chest, she swallowed and picked up the scissors Alice had left behind. Frisk carefully cut off the sleeves of her rose pink sweater with the light brown stripes. She took off the locket while she changed, and when she put it back on, she took the white ribbon Toriel had given her a year ago and tied it around her neck.
"A locket and a ribbon," Chara pointed out. "You sure like your neck decorations."
"Shut up." Frisk was about to leave the room when Chara called her. Rolling her eyes, she turned to look at him and was surprised to see him smiling at her. Not smirking or grinning or anything malicious. Just a simple smile.
"Happy Birthday," he said.
Frisk didn't know how Chara knew – perhaps Toriel had told Chara on more than one occasion while she was still alive – but it warmed her heart anyway that he remembered.
"Thank you," she whispered, and Frisk returned Chara's real smile with one of her own.
For the first time since they met, Frisk and Chara were getting along.
"I trust your travel here went well," King Asgore said, looking down on the queen. He didn't really like how she considered herself a queen in his kingdom, but he let it slide. After all, he would much rather have her as an ally than an enemy.
"It went very well, thank you," the petite monster said, taking a sip from her teacup. She and King Asgore sat at a small table in his throne room. A pot of tea and a plate of cookies were the only thing between them.
"You must be wondering why I personally called you here," was how King Asgore opened, cookie in hand despite making no move to take a bite.
The queen, all the while, helped herself to the treats. "I suppose it has something to do with that nasty human," she guessed. At King Asgore's tightening demeanor, she smiled. "Your captain of the guard failed to capture that human. What's worse, that same captain went missing before she was to be executed. Such a shame, Gorey, how little respect you receive in your own kingdom."
"I am respected plenty," King Asgore gruffly replied, knowing it was only half true. He wasn't blind to those who still followed the morals of his exiled wife.
"Tell me," the queen leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs, "why did you call me over? Do you want me to take care of our little pest problem?"
"If anyone can do it, I know you can." King Asgore finally took a bite of his cookie. "You have connections and eyes everywhere. My first mistake was not enlisting your help sooner."
"We all make mistakes, Gorey," the queen said, "but there's no mistake worse than not learning from it."
"Trust me," King Asgore replied, "I learned plenty from my worst mistakes."
The queen raised an eyebrow. "Do you not mean Prince Chara?"
"DO NOT SPEAK HIS NAME!" King Asgore roared. "Nor call him a prince. That human is no son of mine. My wife and I took him in, called him our own, and raised him alongside our son. How did he repay all the love and care we gave him over the years? He killed Asriel. How my ex-wife and half the kingdom refuse to see his guilt, I will never understand, but that doesn't change how the only good human is a dead one."
Gently setting the teacup down, the queen simply said, "Whether or not Prince Chara is guilty of killing Asriel is no concern of mine. However, I have my own grudge against humans. No need to convince me to take the job. I accept."
"Excellent," King Asgore muttered, calming down from his outburst. "I shall have the contract written then."
"Not so fast." The queen grinned. "In exchange for killing the human, I want a portion of the kingdom. Nothing much, just a small little patch of land for me and my people. I want to be queen over it. Not a self-proclaimed queen as I am now, but a true ruler acknowledged by King Asgore himself."
"If you can get this human's soul," King Asgore crossed his arms, "you can have the whole mountain for all I care."
This seemed to please the queen. Without taking her eyes off King Asgore, she called, "Honey, come stand beside me."
A monster who had stood silently in the corner of the room – so silent, in fact, King Asgore had completely forgotten about him – approached the petite monster.
"My Heart, my Queen," he said before taking one of her hands and kissing it.
The queen smiled endearingly at her lover and bodyguard. "We have a little pest problem," she said, holding her lover's fingers against her cheeks.
"I heard, my love," the other monster replied. "Do you want me to squish it, or spray it with poison."
Eyes gleaming, the queen looked at King Asgore, smirked, and looked back at her lover. "Surprise me."
