Royal Blue

Dust and Fresh Air (Chapter Four)

"Is it time already?" Asgore asked, tone taut and composed. Pouring the last drops of water over a patch of golden flowers.

He took a long breath. The air was clear, a slow draft moving through like the wind itself were giving a long and dreary sigh.

Steadfast, the figure behind him did not move.

"Thank you for coming," Asgore spoke, voice low and soft, addressing the stout, obdurate presence that had appeared behind him. The waft of icy, displaced air following his arrival, was nothing, in comparison to the chill of one of his oldest, chattiest's friend's total silence.

"I know it goes against..." He looked down, not bothering to turn around, honestly scared to see his friend. A man he had assumed dead for nearly a hundred years.

"Against everything you promised her."

There was a pause, Asgore lifted a hand to his chest, where a slow sinking feeling had taken to his soul. Just as a black hole tugs on a faded star, he felt it's pull.

There was the familiar sound of clinking metal, a single footfall on the damp dirt that moved the figure only a step closer. Asgore turned his head an inch, and watched from the corner of his eye, barely brave enough for just that.

His oldest companion stood, old armor glinting in the light like a knife's well maintained edge, eyes swallowed by the shadow of his helmet.

Asgore blinked, his eyes keeping closed for nearly ten seconds of total silence.

Memories came to his mind's eye, scenes unmoving, like polaroids. The ones he had framed, kept in the light of his mind, were smudged by sun and faded, second-guessed blurs of color and emotion.

But the ones pushed to the back of his mind, the ones kept in the darkness were crisp. The ones he never wanted to see again left stark and clear.

"I've lost count of all the promises I've broken," he spoke, voice deliberate, throaty and slow.

Asgore nodded. He couldn't deny that those promises had been broken in his name.

"I know..." The king swallowed roughly.

The roof of his mouth tasted just like the truth. Bitter.

"I know."

There was the sound of something shifting from behind him, in his peripherals he noticed his friend kneeling, the plates of his armor shifting and clanking to the ground.

"My liege," his voice was so sincere, tinged with levity...

"Zero," Asgore said, he nearly smiled, but with a tight jaw he turned his head away. The memories the soldier reminded him of...

He gestured for his friend to stand.

"You know that you, of all people, don't have to bow-"

Asgore paused, stiff, as a sound echoed through his castle's empty hall, clanking and heavy, drawing ever near.

Footfalls, quick and metallic, but heavy, approaching his door and stopping at the open frame.

There was a moment's pause.

"Asgore? The troops are awaiting your address." The light but scratchy voice spoke.

"Undyne?" Asgore asked quickly.

He turned toward the door with two slow steps, noticing that the room was devoid of any soul but his own.

He almost smiled; of course Zero would...