Author's note:

So I had this AU idea in my head for a few days, and after going on a long walk, this scene came into my head and I had to write it down. I know a fantasy setting for Undertale isn't exactly a new concept, I'm definitely not the first, but I hope you guys find this enjoyable. I wanted to try to explain the world's concepts as best I could, and I CERTAINLY want to explore it more.

I would DEFINITELY like some feedback on this, if possible. I would like to know if this is a thing people are interested in, since…well, I really want to do more as well.

Thank you for reading! :D

It was colder now, and raining. It always seemed to rain right when the situation called for it the most.

The party stood outside of the cabin, scattering around, most of them taking care to not step out into the rain. The cabin itself was modest, having been carved out of the trunk of one of the largest trees in the kingdom. A single lantern flickered its light through the window, occasionally blocked by the shadow of Lady Toriel, overseeing her charge this night.

Undyne, in all her pride, found herself at a complete loss. The Captain of the Royal Guard sat on a stump in the yard, freshly cut, as the rain plinked on her steel armor. Her head hung low, her red hair becoming matted to the side of her head from the showers. Her spear was planted firmly in the ground, its blue glow seeming to all but disappear amidst the downpour.

Sans kept the hood of his thick, fur-lined blue robe over his head and leaned against the side of the tree. There were many opportunities for him to strike up a conversation, crack a joke or two. Maybe use his magic to pull a prank on his brother. But not this time. The sorcerer kept his tricks to himself. This wasn't the time. Even as much as he loved picking on Undyne for being a meathead, he still had a heart, he couldn't do this now.

Frisk sat opposite of the doorway from Sans, huddling down and pulling her purple robe tighter to keep the warmth in. It wasn't the weather that gave her the chill, it was the overpowering gloom. She'd never seen the hotheaded Undyne like this, even though she'd only met her a couple of months ago. She was used to her ally being a boisterous hothead, an impulsive, passionate soul.

She drifted a glance over at Sans, brushing her wet, brown hair out of her face. He nodded, and gave a forced smile. She forced one back at him. It took awhile for them to get to this level of camaraderie, but it was clear that they were both glad they'd gotten here together, despite facing the inescapable.

She never got used to the idea. She hated death. She feared it.

A red, gloved hand came to rest on her right shoulder. She leaned into it, nuzzled it gently with the side of her head, and closed her eyes. Protection. Preservation. Patience.

That's Papyrus.

Gold-trimmed silver armor clanked and clamored as he sat down on the ground next to Frisk, his hand never leaving her shoulder. She leaned it further, allowing the skeleton to wrap his arm behind her back, hugging her closer. He fluttered out his red cape and blanketed his human friend with it. He always could feel when somebody needed a hug.

She wondered if he knew just how long she'd need it for.

They were so lost in each other that they didn't see it, but Sans was giving them a genuine smile. Papyrus was the one who brought him and Frisk closer together in the first place. Her brave, foolish stunt that could have cost her life, it saved him. In a way, saved them both, as Sans had often feared living in a world without his brother. All the magic in the world couldn't bring him back from the void. Sorcery was useless against the hereafter.

Now he was starting to feel the same way about Frisk. He almost found it something to laugh at.

Maybe he was more like his brother than he thought.

The cabin door creaked open, as Lady Toriel stepped out, closing it and folding her arms. She had seen this time and time again, faced death head on like a champion. Her stoicism was almost inspiring.

"Undyne," she said.

The captain slowly rose.

"Tell me he's going to make it."

Toriel sighed. "Undyne, Gerson is...too old. The fact that he's lived almost three hundred years is a miracle in itself, and-"

"That's not what I wanted to hear!"

A clash of thunder. Perfect timing from the divine.

Toriel stood firm. "Undyne, Gerson is falling down. At this rate..."

"S-Shut up!"

It was hard to determine which of the droplets on Undyne's face were tears, and which ones were from the rain. She marched right up into Toriel's face, grabbing her by the collar.

"knock it off!" Sans shouted, surprising everybody.

"Stuff it, magician! Toriel can cure him! Toriel's the strongest Curate in the kingdom, she has to get back in there and do something!"

Toriel just shut her eyes. She endured, like she always had. "Undyne, Captain of the Royal Guard, you will unhand me now."

"Fix him!"

Undyne slammed Toriel into the door.

"Do it!"

"I can not."

"You have to!"

"I can not."

"You have to bring him back! He's the freakin' Hammer of Justice! He doesn't deserve to just-!"

The human stood up, clenching small, shaking fists.

"Stop it!"

There was always something about Frisk that brought out the best in everybody. Her voice was gentle enough to comfort any weary soul, but it was firm enough to demonstrate the incredible strength of her Determination.

Papyrus stood up as well. "FRISK..."

"...Sorry," she said, relaxing her hands. "but...getting angry isn't going to..."

She wiped away a tear of her own.

Undyne released her grip on Toriel. "...Sorry," she mumbled.

The Curate walked over toward the human. "Frisk. I...would ask you to Save him."

"I..." Frisk hesitated.

"HOLD ON, LADY TORIEL. FRISK IS A FULLY TRAINED CURATE NOW, JUST AS I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS AM A FULLY TRAINED PALADIN, BUT...FRISK IS CLEARLY NOT READY FOR THIS RESPONSIBILITY!"

Sans chimed in. "i agree with my bro. frisk doesn't wanna do this, do you kid?"

Frisk shook her head. "I'm...I'm not ready. I've never done it before, what if...what if I screw it up?!"

Toriel knelt down and placed her hands on Frisk's shoulders.

"Frisk. A Curate's power is the power of Determination. It allows us to heal, it allows us to protect. But this, Saving the fallen, is our most sacred duty of all. When a monster is Saved, they will not become a Fiend once they have fallen, instead turning to dust. It is important to keep monsters from becoming Fiends, both for their sake, and for the sake of the entire kingdom. Do you understand?"

"I do," Frisk nodded, "But...I just...I can't. I knew what I trained for, I just..."

"My child, a Curate must perform this duty. All must learn to harness their Determination. Your soul, your Determination, is the strongest of all, even stronger than mine. You can do this."

Frisk bit her lip and shut her eyes. For a second she'd hoped that when she opened them again she'd be back at the inn, sharing a room with the skeleton brothers. She hoped that she'd wake up and giggle as Papyrus struggled to get her lazy brother out of bed, just like this morning. Just like...well, every morning.

She opened them again. She was here, and she nodded.

"ARE YOU SURE, FRISK?!"

Frisk looked back at her guardian. "Yeah, Pap. I'm sure."

"Are you freakin' kidding me?! Gerson's not gonna die, you understand?! He's not!"

Frisk headed toward the door and opened it. Papyrus followed shortly after, but was stopped as Toriel grabbed him by his bracer.

"No. She must do this alone."

"TORIEL, WITH ALL DUE RESPECT, I AM A PALADIN, AND FRISK IS MY CHARGE. YOU YOURSELF MADE ALL OF THAT POSSIBLE, AND I WON'T SHIRK MY DUTY NOW!"

"Paladin Papyrus!" Toriel commanded.

He'd heard that tone of voice before. Before, when he was only a knight-errant, a Royal Guard aspirant, he adhered to those words down to the very letter. That tone meant that she was serious, it meant that she was going give him orders.

He'd been a Paladin for only a couple of weeks, and he was already facing the greatest challenge of his life.

"NO, I AM SORRY LADY TORIEL. YOU ARE NOT IN COMMAND OF ME ANY LONGER. FRISK IS MY CHARGE. SHE GIVES MY ORDERS."

"Papyrus..." Frisk pleaded. "...I want you to come with me."

Toriel gave the human a stern glance. "My child, you must learn how to do this on your own!"

"That's not how it works!"

Another thunderclap. Heaven was laughing.

Frisk rubbed the back of her neck. "This...power. I can do it on my own, but...when I'm with all of you, especially Papyrus, it's...stronger. Maybe his Determination helps mine work better, I don't know. But I will say this. Either he comes with me, or you'll have to do it yourself, Toriel."

"tori," Sans spoke up again, tugging on her violet robes, "papyrus made a sacred oath to protect frisk with his life. i was there, and i've never seen him say anything more meaningful or serious in his life. i dunno what undyne thinks, but i'm not gonna let you tear them apart now. he loves frisk, just like we all do. what right do any of us have to tell them 'no'?"

Toriel folded her hands and gave a solemn nod. Frisk wasn't just an older teenager, she was clearly becoming a young adult.

Frisk fought back a smile. "C'mon, Papyrus."

"RIGHT BEHIND YOU."

It felt like they'd entered a completely different world once they shut the door.

The lantern's fluttering light perfectly lit the humble cottage, most of it seeming to have been carved by Gerson himself in his more laid-back days. Shelves set into the wall were lined with numerous knick-knacks, trinkets, and artifacts. Undyne told them all stories about Gerson's expeditions into ancient ruins, she told them about his harrowing adventures as the king's right-hand man, the former Captain of the Royal Guard, and more.

All coming to an end.

All according to some twisted sense of fate.

Frisk hated it. Papyrus could feel that.

The two moved over toward the bed, finding Gerson already covered up and resting peacefully. His breathing was almost nonexistent, taking in air only once every thirty seconds or so. Even then it was beginning to slow further.

He really was falling down. There wasn't much time. Maybe a day at most.

"FRISK..."

"Yeah?"

"DETERMINATION...YOU CAN FEEL IT IN OTHERS, RIGHT?"

"Yeah. They taught me that anybody who can use it can feel others around them."

"IS THAT WHAT THIS IS?"

"What?"

"IT...SOUNDS LIKE A HEARTBEAT. OUTSIDE IT SOUNDED LIKE SEVERAL, BUT IN HERE..."

"Yes. That's Determination, I guess. You really can feel it, huh?"

"YES! ALTHOUGH...IT'S NOT STRONG ENOUGH TO BECOME A CURATE MYSELF."

"Sure, but it was enough to become a Paladin, right? Isn't that what you wanted? To protect people?"

"I SUPPOSE, BUT..."

"Papyrus...you don't need to feel bad about not having enough Determination to become a Curate. You're the first fully-fledged Paladin in...what, five hundred years? They wouldn't just revive an almost extinct profession for no reason. Toriel did it because she believes in you."

"YOU THINK SO?!"

"Of course. And...I believe in you, too."

"FRISK...THANKS."

Frisk gazed up into Papyrus' gentle eyesockets, nodding.

Gerson's breathing was even slower. Frisk's, however, was becoming shaky.

Another deep, quavering breath, and Frisk placed her hands on Gerson's blanketed body. She could feel it, the Pulse, as it was called. What Papyrus had just mentioned was his own experience in it. It was the heartbeat of every living being on this planet. A being with enough Determination could sense it, and Curates had the ability to control this pulse, whether that meant to heal, or to enhance a person's natural abilities. Frisk was good at all of those.

She was still hesitant about this.

The echoes of the Pulse spread out from the human. She could feel Papyrus right behind her, his heart beating strong. Even outside, she could feel Undyne's burning life force. She could feel Toriel's heart gently throbbing. Even Sans' Pulse, surrounded by arcane power, flowed into the very edges of her senses.

Gerson had almost no trace. Determination was powerful, but it couldn't give back once somebody was too far gone. There was only one option left. To Save. To pull away the Pulse from a dying monster, lest their stagnant Determination keep them alive, and mindless. A Fiend. A monster in a more literal sense, bent on feeding on more and more Determination by taking it from others, violently if needed.

Thank the divines that Papyrus was there that day. If he wasn't...

Frisk shook her head and focused on the remnants of Gerson's Pulse. There was a part of her that wanted to give her own power to his, give this old hero a few more years at the cost of hers. It's possible, it was at least theorized...

No. She had to perform her duty.

She focused on his Pulse again, and began to siphon it into her own. She could feel their hearts beating as one, and it felt like she was almost breathing it in. Breathing him in.

Her mind began to race. Three hundred years of memories flashed across her soul as she accepted this kindly old person's warmth into herself. It felt like an eternity, and to Gerson, it probably was.

When it was over, she gasped and opened her eyes.

Underneath the covers, and resting on the pillow was a small, kindly, modest pile of dust.

"I..."

"YOU DID IT, FRISK."

The human turned around to face Papyrus. Despite all of her Determination, despite all her training, she wasn't prepared for this.

Despite everything, Frisk was still Frisk.

And Frisk was beginning to cry.

The Paladin knew what to do. He'd known Frisk for only a few months, but he swooped into action the only way he'd ever known how. He grabbed her and pulled her in close, holding her head against his silver breastplate. She was only a foot shorter than he was now. Growing up far too fast.

The human's sobs shook the skeleton as Frisk wrapped her arms around him in turn, burying her face into his chest. Red-gloved hands gently stroked her hair as the bawling began to truly get underway.

"I KNOW."

"I...I don't want to do this again, I can't! Papyrus I can't do this, it's...it's so awful. His life, it was so..."

"I KNOW."

"...and...and he was just so kind, and we just talked to him last week and he seemed fine and..."

"I KNOW."

"Papyrus..."

"IT'S OKAY. I'M HERE."

"Pap..."

"IT'S OKAY. YOU'RE GOING TO BE OKAY, AND I'M GOING TO BE OKAY. WE'RE ALL GOING TO BE OKAY...OKAY?"

"Papyrus, I can't...I just..."

"FRISK, I'M ALWAYS GOING TO BE HERE. FOR YOU. OKAY?"

"I..."

"YEAH, I KNOW. IT'S...HARD. BUT...WE'LL MAKE IT THROUGH THIS. I'LL PROTECT YOU."

"I know."

He didn't let go. He didn't intend to, not until she was ready. He listened to the rain drizzling on the side of the tree-cottage, reminding him to wipe his own tears on the cloak draped around his shoulders. Still never letting go. His Determination could feel the Pulse, and how different it was to each person. Frisk's Pulse was so incredibly strong, but now. Now it was shivering. It was cold. He had to keep her warm, keep her safe.

Not just because it was his duty.

After a few minutes, the weeping slowed. The shaking began to quell, and Frisk finally pulled herself away from Papyrus, wiping her eyes on the sleeve of her robe.

"BETTER?"

"...Yeah. Thanks Papyrus."

"OF COURSE. C'MON. LET'S TELL THE OTHERS."

He placed a comforting hand on her back as she walked over toward the door. She rested her tender hand on the knob, hesitating to turn it.

There was no going back.

Time marched ever on.