![Wither | <a href='/c/undertale/tag/LoveNT/'>#LoveNT</a> | Story-[IMG=13L]
Art credit: http://underguo.tumblr.com/ (thank you, ACT!)
[I]Greetings! (Good morning!)
[I](https://image.staticox.com/?url=http%3A%2F%2Fpm1.aminoapps.descargarjuegos.org%2F6814%2F128db6b62c2caa57112493086579a0b432a3c109v2_hq.jpg)
Art credit: http://underguo.tumblr.com/ (thank you, ACT!)
Greetings! (Good morning!)
This is a story I wrote overnight for the prompt Buttercups and Tea and the #NTcollab.
It’s an Asgore story, so you’re mainly going to see Asgore in there (obviously).
Enjoy!
•.:°❀×═════════×❀°:.•
“Nice day today!” was written in ink.
It wasn’t a lie. Sunlight, let in by the barrier, shone inside the Underground, giving warmth to all living beings.
The flowers were just approaching full bloom. They all grew simultaneously, not one ahead of the others, in perfect synchronicity.
The king wasn’t doing what most would expect from one. He was watering the myraid of golden bloom in his throne room. He was humming a cheerful song he’s heard last time he has descended to the Underground from his palace.
It’s his daily routine. One could say, that he’s been doing so for eternity. Mindlessly.
However, the king was all but mindless.
The water has ran out. He’s taken notice and stood up to refill the watering can.
His gaze has fallen upon a single flower. It was all alone. It was indistinguishable from the rest, yet…
•.:°❀×═════════×❀°:.•
“Asriel? Is that… you?”
“D-dad! I- I can’t feel! HELP ME!”
•.:°❀×═════════×❀°:.•
It felt, as if some memory was trying to resurface, yet it never got a chance. Assert itself back to where it belonged. There just wasn’t this chance.
The king has approached the well. No monster ever needed water. It was here, only because the flowers were. He’s reached into it and fetched a full can of sweet water.
•.:°❀×═════════×❀°:.•
“Oh, I’ve seen so much water, mister king!”
“In the Waterfalls?”
“Yes! In Snowdin, there’s only ice and in Hotlands it’s too hot for water! I really liked it in the Waterfalls! But…”
“Why the long face, child?”
“I lost my ballet shoes while resting in the grass. You were supposed to remind me!”
“I’m sorry, sis. I forgot.”
•.:°❀×═════════×❀°:.•
It was extremely clean. The king returned back to watering.
It was peace. Two butterflies flew through. They rested on the flowers, stayed a while, then flew away, lighty fluttering their wings.
The king tilts his watering can to give the flowers much needed moisture.
•.:°❀×═════════×❀°:.•
“Hm… I think I’ve seen this flower before.”
“How can you tell without glasses, bro?”
“It has a distinct smell - sweet, pleasant, perfect herb for tea.”
“You’re smart, bro. You are pretty great!”
“Oh, but you’re corageous and brave... You’re much more than me.”
“No, don’t say that! You’re at least as equally good as me.”
•.:°❀×═════════×❀°:.•
The butterflies fly a circle around the grand garden and fly away through the opened ceiling. The king looks after them. They’re free to go wherever they wish. He resumes his watering.
There’s a golden throne in the back of the room. It shines in the sunlight, light reflecting everywhere around. Velvet, purple cushion was heating up by taking the warmth of the light. There was a small place on the cushion, that was sawn together.
•.:°❀×═════════×❀°:.•
“Left, right, left, right, see how easy it is?”
“Hm, I see.”
“How did that happen, anyhow?”
“Ah. It’s a long story. In short, my… children. Have once taken interest in fighting with daggers.”
“Ah, I see! Where are they?”
“...”
“I’m gravely sorry!”
“That’s nothing. It’s history now.”
•.:°❀×═════════×❀°:.•
From high above, a pair of titmice fly on the throne. They begin to sing a morning song. The king knows these two birds very well. Chirping, jumping around.
•.:°❀×═════════×❀°:.•
“That is magical. And you make all that music just by your flute?”
“Yes she does! She is very talented!”
“Oh, thank you, but I don’t think I’m that talented. I just really enjoy playing it. The flute.”
“Speaking of music, I think the Underground should get something like… live soundtrack! It would cheer up everyone in the Underground very much.”
“Soundtrack?”
“Uhuh! I already have composed several pieces. I thought this one up while we were walking through the Core!”
“Tell me you aren’t talented one more time, sis.”
•.:°❀×═════════×❀°:.•
The king smiles. His smile withers, as they birds take flight. It is too silent in this place. He sees a flower with a stem. He takes a small dagger hidden in his armor, kneels down and cuts off the dead leaves.
He has heard the news. A human child has fallen, making their way through the Underground, alone. Should it cheer him up?
•.:°❀×═════════×❀°:.•
“So, the reason why some of my friends, my family and my friends’ family have died was because of the need of their soul?”
“...”
“I see. It is your duty after all, to lead your subjects as king towards the future. But I am not here to give you my soul. I’m here to avenge those, whom I used to know. You’re avenging someone, too.”
“Every time you rise your trident, you look towards the sky, seeking someone. I see it in your eyes.”
“I might have the fantastical ability to alter time, but… I know I can’t change the outcome of this fight. I will perish.”
•.:°❀×═════════×❀°:.•
He plucks one flower from the ground and touches her leaves. It’s smooth as silk and it’s fragrance is enchanting. Perfect herb for tea.
He hears footsteps. Is it the Knight, who has decided to make tea? Is it the Froggit, who needs reassurance in his future? Is it a Whimsun, who has overcame his frights?
He takes one more breath, inhaling the sweet scent of the golden flower. He turns around.
“Howdy! How can I-”
“O-oh.”
It is what he’s feared the most. He already knows he won’t win this battle. His will is too weak to endure the fight, he has no aspiration to hold onto anymore. He will perish.
There’s no use in talking - it just hinders the moment that has to come.
What if he will survive this fight? No. He won’t. The slim chance can be easily broken by one small stab of a blade. It has been planned.
What is there to live on for?
His sweet Toriel? She is gone forever.
His dear children? They’re gone forever.
His subjects, who have faith in him? In him, the disgusting murderer? In him, who couldn’t even protect his children? In the one, who has given up all hope, yet preaches tomorrow, like there’s never going to be one?
It’s already been decided.
May there come a king greater than me.
•.:°❀×═════════×❀°:.•
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Comments (15)
I was not dead I Will Survive
Amazing!
There's something in my eye...it's tears :cry:
Beautiful poem. And an incredible picture too.